The CEO Hid His Mistress Inside A Million Dollar Painting Chapter 01

The CEO Hid His Mistress Inside A Million Dollar Painting Chapter 01

My husband had recently become obsessed with collecting famous paintings, hanging a massive landscape right in the center of our bedroom.

He claimed it was priceless and warned me to be extremely careful with it.

The moment he walked out the door, I started cleaning the frame, only to hear sticky, heavy breathing coming from inside the painting.

I leaned in closer, and a flood of comments exploded before my eyes:

[This fool has been dusting the frame for half a year and still hasn’t noticed that under that crooked tree in the painting, her husband is going at it like crazy with his little assistant!]

[So dumb. The mistress is literally grinding on her husband’s waist like there’s no tomorrow, and she’s still over here wiping down the frame.]

[Ever since the ML exchanged for the ‘Painting Entry’ ability from the system, he’s been streaming non-stop, 24/7, doing it with his assistant inside the painting!]

I stared fixedly at the gnarled tree that the comments mentioned.

Nestled among the layered green hills was my usually reserved and elegant husband—eyes bloodshot, fingers digging into his assistant’s waist as they thrashed together with desperate intensity.

Feeling my gaze, the two of them even switched to a more intense position, as if taunting me.

I let out a cold laugh.

Turning around, I pulled open a drawer and pulled out a sharp utility knife.

***

The second the knife pressed against the canvas, a brute force struck me from behind, snatching the knife away in one go.

“Perla Flores, what do you think you’re doing?”

Hyatt Thorne’s furious voice boomed through the quiet bedroom.

I turned around, meeting his blazing eyes.

My gaze drifted past his face, landing on his forehead glistening with sweat, and the shirt… worn backward.

His suit jacket was slung casually over one arm, faint scratch marks peeking out from under his collar, bright red and jarring.

I calmly pointed at the spot with the gnarled tree. “There’s a smudge on the painting. I was going to clean it off for you.”

“Wasn’t there supposed to be an important meeting at the office today? Why are you back all sweaty?”

Hyatt’s eyes darted away, and he instinctively tugged at his collar, covering the red marks.

“I came back to pick up an important document.” He spoke with righteous confidence, slipping the knife into his pocket. “I called you several times, and you didn’t answer. I thought something had happened, so I ran back. What’s wrong with sweating a little?”

I swiped open my phone screen. The signal was full, and the call log was completely empty.

The office was ten miles from home. What a sprinter.

[Lmao, Hyatt’s heart is about to jump out of his throat trying to protect that whiny little assistant of his in the painting, isn’t it?]

[Perla really needs to step it up! She doesn’t even know—he just scooped up his little assistant from that creek in the painting, and the girl’s still got her pants around her ankles!]

[Look behind that crooked tree—the assistant is completely naked, making faces at Perla. They’re just waiting for her to leave so they can keep going at it.]

I narrowed my eyes, staring intently at the painting.

Sure enough, a slender figure flickered through the gaps in the leaves, vanishing into the shadows in an instant.

Seeing me still staring at the painting, Hyatt stepped sideways, blocking my view.

“There’s no smudge. You’re seeing things.” As he spoke, he roughly pushed me toward the door. “Enough. This painting is worth seven figures. One scratch and it’s ruined. Stay away from it from now on.”

“I need to find the document. Go to the guest room and don’t disturb me.”

“Fine.” I didn’t argue, turning away obediently.

The door slammed shut behind me.

Then came the sharp, hurried sound of locks clicking shut.

I stood at the end of the corridor. The soundproofing was excellent.

But the comments scrolled wildly before me, and I could almost hear soft giggles coming from the world inside the painting.

[As soon as Perla left, Hyatt spent points to go back in!]

[The “Painting Entry” ability is amazing. No need for a hotel room, no fear of paparazzi, and you can do it in scenery from thousands of years ago. I want this system too!]

[The little assistant is such a tease. She sits on his lap and asks, ‘What if your wife finds out?’ And he says, “That idiot? Just throw her a little household allowance and she’ll dust that frame for the rest of her life.”]

I leaned against the wall, my nails digging into my palms. The pain kept me clinging to my last shred of calm.

Over the years, for Hyatt’s ridiculous pride, I’d stepped back, stopped going to the office, and devoted myself to being the so-called “devoted wife” he talked about.

But it turned out, my family had funded him from a struggling student to a rising business tycoon, only to be called “that idiot.”

I turned to look at the paintings hanging all along the corridor.

Before, I’d thought he’d just picked up a new hobby.

Only now did I realize that every single one of those paintings was just another setup for him to hook up with Vicky Dawson.

We’d been married for three years. He’d always said he was reserved, only bothering with me once a month, barely going through the motions.

It wasn’t that he was reserved.

It was that he’d already drained himself dry inside those paintings.

A wave of nausea crashed over me.

I leaned against the wall, staring at the locked door, a cold smile tugging at my lips.

Since you two love thrills so much, I’ll make sure you get your fill.