Chapter 3My Wife Tried to Kill Me For Her Paramour's Dog

Daniel POV

Hannah followed my gaze, her face changing. She instinctively turned sideways, shielding Mason's wrist.

"How much longer are you going to humiliate me like this?" she hissed, her voice low and filled with disappointment. "That watch was covering this year's HOA premium! For the VIP parking spot! Do you have any idea how many dinners I had to sit through with the board president just to get our family into the inner circle here? What do you know about building real connections?"

She turned, putting on a wronged expression, and started explaining to the surrounding neighbors:

"What's wrong with me lending Mason, the President, my watch for a few days? He's helping us appraise it! Besides, if it weren't for him, would we have gotten an 80% discount on our property fees? Would we have priority in choosing a parking spot?"

"Do you even understand networking? You fool!"

She made it sound so reasonable.

Embezzling her husband's millions to lavish on her lover, all packaged as a strategic investment in networking for the family's social climbing.

She was enduring humiliation for this family, and I, apparently, was ungrateful.

The surrounding neighbors chimed in, accusing me of being ignorant and unworthy of Hannah's painstaking efforts.

Mason chuckled at an opportune moment, flicking some imaginary ash from a cigar. "Hannah, it's fine. If Mr. Owen is so possessive, I'll simply return the watch. To an artist like me, such things are merely decorative."

He made a show of taking it off, but his movements were slow, his eyes full of provocation, as if to say:

I wore it. What will you do?

I found it utterly laughable.

Before, to protect Hannah's ego, I played the role of the mediocre husband in this house, letting her use my money to keep up appearances.

She thought I was a moocher who couldn't survive without her.

I pulled the divorce papers from my briefcase and handed them to her.

"Sign it. The house is already listed. The agent will bring potential buyers tomorrow."

Hannah froze.

The crowd of onlookers froze too.

"Selling the house?" someone whispered. "It seems the Owens are really broke if they're liquidating their home."

"Daniel, have you lost your mind?" Hannah hadn't even had a chance to react when the ballroom doors burst open.

My parents stormed in, clearly Hannah's backup.

Eleanor, my mother, snatched the papers from the floor without reading a word and flung them against my chest.

"Daniel! Have you forgotten everything this family stands for?"

She pointed a trembling finger at my nose. "Do you know how much Hannah has had to swallow just to make you look good in front of these people? And you repay her by humiliating her the moment you're back on your feet? Selling the house? Have you thought for one second about what her parents will say about us?"

I remembered her carrying me for miles to the hospital when I had a fever as a child.

Back then, she loved me. Now, she stood by the woman who nearly killed me.

Hannah had completely brainwashed my parents.

She was the model wife, sacrificing herself for the family, and I was just an oblivious simpleton, ignorant of social graces.

A sudden dog bark interrupted my thoughts.

Snowball, Mason's poodle, barked wildly at me.

Kyle, Mason's assistant, immediately cried out. "Oh, Mr. Owen, please don't scare Snowball! She's descended from champion dogs, very timid!"

My mother instinctively reached out to comfort the dog.

"Oh, Snowball, don't be scared, Grandma's here. Don't let this unfilial son frighten you."

In that moment, my heart turned cold. Even a dog was more important than me.

Kyle, seeing the situation, spoke with a sarcastic tone. "Mr. Owen, you need to look at the big picture."

Kyle held up his wine glass. "President Mason is an artist, and his son is a future genius. If a genius's skin even gets a little red, it's a loss to the art world. Compared to that, what's a little allergic reaction of yours? Wouldn't everyone agree?"

A chorus of agreement rose around us.

"Exactly, Hannah is so understanding."

"Disrupting community unity over such a small matter is just selfish."

Seeing the public opinion turn overwhelmingly against me, Hannah seized the opportunity. She reached out, trying to grab the briefcase from my hand.

Her movements were practiced and natural, just like the countless times she'd taken my credit cards.

"Honey, stop causing a scene. Give me the papers, we'll talk about it at home."

I dodged her, tapping the documents again.

"I don't explain the law to those who don't understand it. Sign it, or I'll see you in court."

Richard, my dad, slammed his cane heavily on the ground, producing a dull thud.

In his eyes, discussing court in front of such a crowd was airing our family's dirty laundry.