I realized something was wrong with the woman sleeping next to me. Whenever I tried to get close, she was cold, unresponsive—like a corpse. I told myself it was just the slow fade of a long marriage, the novelty worn thin. Then I overheard my wife talking to her hot-as-hell best friend. “My husband sleeps like the dead,” she’d said. “You could put an actual body next to him, and he wouldn’t even stir.” So my wife was swapping herself out... with a stand-in? 1. I jolted awake, pulled from a deep sleep by a faint sound drifting from the living room. It was a soft, rhythmic sound… like a pained gasp, or a stifled moan. In the pitch-black dark, a chill crept up my spine. I instinctively reached out, nudging the woman beside me. “Honey, I think someone’s in the house…” I shook her again, then a third time. Nothing. She was completely out. She must be exhausted from the day, I reasoned. I decided not to wake her. I slipped out of bed, my hand closing around the heavy ceramic vase on the nightstand. A burglar? Tiptoeing, I eased the bedroom door open. The living room was an inky void. I hesitated, then, steeling myself, crept to the kitchen and armed myself with a chef’s knife. The cold steel in my hand gave me a sliver of courage. I felt for the light switch by the door and flipped on every light in the house. The living room exploded in a sterile, white glare. I swept my eyes across the room, then checked the others. No one. Nothing was out of place, not a single valuable missing. I stood there, a fool in the blaring light of an empty living room, the knife feeling ridiculous in my hand. Had I just imagined it? The next morning, I found my wife, Sophia, already at the breakfast table, a radiant smile on her face. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she chirped. “Breakfast is ready!” Sophia was stunning. Tall, with curves in all the right places, and a face that could stop traffic. We were a whirlwind romance—married within a month of meeting. But it had been a good marriage. She’d been with me through the lean years, from nothing to me becoming the managing partner of my own company. I was the envy of all my friends. She’d quit her job to be a stay-at-home wife after my business took off. The one shadow in our perfect life was that after six years, we were still childless. We’d seen doctors, run tests—we were both perfectly healthy. Just bad luck, we’d always said. Or maybe the timing just wasn’t right. I finished brushing my teeth and sat down, taking a bite of the warm sandwich she’d made. “Hey,” I started, remembering the night before. “Did you hear anything strange last night?” Sophia rolled her eyes, a playful annoyance in her tone. “Alexander, you were probably dreaming again.” I was about to press her, but she was already standing up. “Come on, you’ll be late for work. Finish up. I’m going back to bed for a bit. I’ve been so sleepy lately, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” She stretched, her body arching like a cat’s as she walked past me toward the bedroom. As she passed, a faint, unusual scent clung to her, something I didn't recognize. I dismissed it as a new perfume and finished my breakfast before heading to the office. The next night, it happened again. I woke to the same disturbing sound, louder this time. I got up, checked the entire house. Again, nothing. My skin crawled. If it wasn't a burglar, then what? A ghost? I’m not a superstitious man, but no other explanation came to mind. Then, for the next two weeks, silence. The house was quiet, and the nights were peaceful. I started to believe it was all over, that whatever it was had passed. I was wrong. It was just the beginning. One night, I was in the throes of a dream, a hot, vivid fantasy starring Sophia and me. I woke up right at the peak, my body still humming with unspent energy. The residual heat of the dream had me on fire. I moved closer to Sophia, my lips near her ear. “Honey,” I whispered. “Are you awake?” Silence. Just like before, she was utterly still, so unresponsive it was unnerving. She felt like a stranger. 2. But I was too far gone, lost in a haze of desire. I wasn't going to let her go that easily. My whispers turned into gentle shoves. “Sophia. Wake up.” Just as a dark, unsettling thought began to form in my mind, she finally stirred. Her voice was a low, groggy murmur. “Go to sleep.” “No way,” I breathed, pressing against her again. “It’s been too long. Let’s have some fun tonight, okay?” My hands began to wander. She didn’t push me away, so I took that as a green light, growing bolder. But her skin felt… wrong. Cool to the touch, not the familiar warmth I knew. And that strange scent was there again, different from her usual perfume. It was an odd, almost clinical smell, but in my aroused state, it felt like a strange sort of novelty. Just as my hand was about to cup her breast, she suddenly grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “No… wait. I—I need a shower first.” Before I could process it, she scrambled out of bed, clutching the duvet around herself, and bolted from the room into the darkness. I was left there, confused and frustrated. But if she wanted to shower, I’d wait. I just hoped she’d be quick about it. Time dragged on. I was starting to doze off again when I decided to get up and see what was taking her so long. That's when I heard voices from the living room. To my shock, it wasn’t just Sophia. Her best friend, Chloe, was there too. I’d met her a few times—a bombshell in her own right, with a figure and face that could easily rival Sophia’s. Tonight, she wore a thin tee that clung to her curves and a pair of denim shorts that left little to the imagination. She was the kind of woman who turned heads and fueled fantasies. But Chloe looked pale and unnerved, her eyes wide with something that looked like fear. “When did you get here?” I asked, trying to sound casual. Sophia immediately linked her arm through Chloe’s. “Oh, just now! Her downstairs neighbors are being super loud again, keeping her up all night. She couldn’t take it, so I told her she could crash here.” I nodded, accepting the explanation. As I turned to go back to the bedroom, something clicked. “Hey, honey,” I said, turning back. “Weren’t you going to take a shower? Why are you still dressed?” Sophia hadn't just thrown on a robe. She was wearing a tight, form-fitting dress and high heels—an outfit for a night out, not a night in. She didn't miss a beat. “Well, Chloe called right as I was about to get in. I had to go downstairs and let her in, and I couldn't exactly do that in a towel, could I?” It made sense. I let it go and went back to the bedroom. The heat I’d felt earlier was gone. It was late, and I had an early meeting. The unfinished business with my wife would have to wait. I fell asleep, never suspecting that Chloe’s sudden appearance was anything but what my wife had said. 3. A week later, I finished my work early and ended up falling asleep in my office. After a long nap, I felt surprisingly rested. That night, because I’d slept so much during the day, I was only in a light doze when I woke up and realized Sophia wasn’t in bed. I figured she was in the bathroom and was about to roll over and go back to sleep when I heard it: the soft murmur of whispers from the living room. Is she on the phone? A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. It was the middle of the night. Why was she sneaking out of our room to make a call? Was there something wrong with our marriage? I crept to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. It was Sophia’s voice, low and urgent. “Chloe, please, just help me out one more time. I know your company hasn’t paid you in months. I’ll add another thousand… no, two thousand dollars. How about that?” So she was talking to Chloe. I felt a wave of relief. But then I heard Chloe’s voice, and it wasn’t tinny or distant like it would be over a phone. She was right there, in my living room. “No, Soph, I can’t,” Chloe pleaded, her voice trembling. “Even if I need the money, I can’t do this again. He almost found out last time…” I froze. Almost found out what? “That was a fluke,” Sophia insisted. “It won’t happen again, I promise. Look, if you agree, not only will I give you the extra two grand, but I’ll get Alexander to hire you at his company. The pay will be way better than that dead-end job you have now.” There was a long pause. Chloe was clearly tempted. I was completely lost. What extra money? What was Sophia asking her to do? And how was I involved in all of this? Finally, Chloe spoke again, her voice full of a weary resignation. “Soph, I just don’t get why you’re doing this. It’s so obvious Alexander adores you. Why don’t you two just have a kid already? Maybe that would change things for you.” My blood ran cold. Sophia’s reply was quiet, but laced with a casual cruelty that cut me to the bone. “A kid? So I can turn into some frumpy housewife? No thanks. I want to have fun for a few more years. You have no idea… I’ve been taking birth control pills in secret after every time we… you know.” She let out a soft, dismissive sigh. “I can’t live without the thrill of those young, hot bodies out there. I just can’t.” The strength drained from my legs. I nearly collapsed. My stay-at-home wife was living a double life, sneaking out to party and cheat. And our six years of childlessness… it wasn't fate. It was her, deliberately, secretly, making sure it never happened. Betrayal, agony, and a white-hot fury surged through me. I wanted to rip the door open, to slap that smug look off her face, to demand to know why. But then, I heard her wheedling voice again, directed at Chloe. “Come on, it’s fine. My husband’s been so stressed lately, he sleeps like the dead. You could put an actual body next to him, and he wouldn't even stir!” A bolt of lightning seared through my mind, and a horrifying theory took shape.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393858", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel