Chapter 2My Wife Tried to Kill Me For Her Paramour's Dog

Daniel POV

The cleaning lady next door secretly called 911 and saved me.

I spent three days in the ICU. Hannah never called.

On my discharge day, Hannah threw a "gratitude party" to celebrate my near-death experience.

But the guest of honor was Mason.

I walked into the ballroom, my face still swollen.

Everyone was raising their glasses, celebrating. No one spared a glance for the man who had just returned from hell.

I walked to the main table, looking at Mason's perfectly maintained face, and with a flick of my wrist, I poured the dark red wine onto the carpet, where it spread into an ugly stain.

"I want a divorce," I said calmly, setting down the empty glass.

The ballroom went silent for a second, then erupted in laughter.

A few neighbors in custom suits pointed and whispered. "Did the anaphylaxis mess with his brain?"

"No sense of occasion," another murmured. "Absolutely none."

Hannah's face flooded with crimson rage.

She snatched an ornate cupcake from the table and hurled it at my feet.

"Daniel, what is wrong with you?!" Hannah looked absolutely furious. "It was one stupid shot! Are you really that petty? Do you have any idea who's here tonight? Mason is the HOA President! Are you trying to make me a laughingstock?"

I ignored the mess on the floor, my gaze fixed on Mason's left hand.

He was wearing a Patek Philippe.

But that was my watch!

I bought it at Sotheby's three years ago.

Hannah told me it was sent for servicing.

Yet here it was, on that damn neighbor's wrist.