The Mistress In My Nursery
Language: en
The blue light from the laptop screen was the only thing illuminating the dark bedroom. My fingertips trembled as I typed my husband’s name into the county property records database. When the first result popped up, I managed to keep my breathing steady—it was our current home, the one we’d shared for five years. But the second entry hit me like a physical blow, the red text searing into my retinas. Unit 1103, Building 17, Riverview Estates. Registered date: three years ago. The autumn before our wedding. This wasn’t a mistake. That luxury condo in the city’s top-tier school district—the…