Zero: God Of Mercenary

Chapter 2: Painful Truth

The woman’s voice was polite but firm.

Beneath it all, there was an undeniable excitement.

Clearly, she was very, very happy to see Oliver.

But Oliver wasn’t paying her much attention. He thought she must be joking.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for games.”

All he could think about was Teresa and Anthony’s bitter words from earlier.

He didn’t want to doubt his wife, but her behavior had been strange lately. 

Anthony’s taunt had only scratched at a truth he’d been afraid to confront.

Before Oliver could walk away, the woman called him from the back.

“Please, come back, Commander! You’re destined to lead an empire, not live like this!”

At the word “Commander,” Oliver hesitated. 

There was something familiar about it, something that tugged at a distant memory.

But he shook it off.

"I'm leaving if you're not here looking for my trouble. Don't follow me." Oliver said. His demand sounded unfamiliarly firm.

And weirdly, the woman listened to his order, stopped behind him.

He headed straight to the Henverton Mansion.

When he stepped through the door, a heavy silence hung in the air, making his chest tighten with unease.

Then, from upstairs, he heard sounds coming from the bedroom.

“Oh… yes, yes! Denver, I’m almost there!” a woman moaned.

Oliver froze. He recognized that voice.

Denver. It was Trisha’s boss.

His hands shook as his mind went blank. When he finally managed to take a step forward, the only sounds left were heavy breaths.

“You’re amazing, baby,” Trisha murmured. After a rustling of sheets, she spoke again.

A man’s voice grinned. “Am I better than that loser?”

“Please! There’s no comparison. He’s never even touched my bed.”

That was it. Oliver kicked open the door!

There lay his wife, Trisha, sprawled on their bed. With another man worn nothing.

“Oliver?!” Trisha screamed, scrambling to pull on her robe, “Damn it, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the market?”

"Why am I here? That’s all you have to say to me?” 

Oliver’s voice shook with a fury, practically sparked in the air.

“What else do you want me to say? Isn’t it obvious?” 

Trisha’s shock faded quickly, and she regained her composure.

With a smirk, she pulled on a flimsy lace in front of him, a mocking smile curling her lips.

Oliver stared, his heart going cold.

“I can’t believe you’re cheating on me,” he finally managed to say.

“Cheating on you?” Trisha spat, her voice like a hissing snake. “That’s what you deserve, you worthless fool!

“I thought you’d bring me wealth and status! you seemed like you knew something at first!”

“But I end up stuck in this pathetic, ordinary life. because of you,” 

Trisha crossed her arms, fury flashing in her eyes.

“I mean, look at us. Look at you. I thought I was marrying a man who could give me everything, but instead, I got… you. Did you really think I’d stay faithful to someone like that?”

“So now you’re running to someone else for what you want?” Oliver’s gaze shifted to Denver, his jaw clenched.

“Oh, please.” Trisha rolled her eyes. “Not now—forever. I’m going to marry him.”

“What?” Oliver stared at her in disbelief. “How can you say this to your husband?”

“Husband?” Trisha’s eyes filled with scorn as she looked him over from head to toe. “You?”

Confusion crossed Oliver’s face. “What are you talking about?”

“I only pretended to marry you to get my father’s inheritance. Once he died, I stayed because you were so loyal, like a dog clinging to its master.”

Trisha spat out the words with venom.

“But you know what’s even funnier?”

She stepped closer, her gaze cold as ice.

“Legally, you were married to someone else. So tell me, Oliver, who’s the real cheater here?”

Oliver’s eyes went wide, but he gritted his teeth.

“You’re just twisting the truth to excuse what you’ve done!”

“Oh, Oliver. Didn’t you hear her?” Denver’s smug voice cut in as he sat up, pulling on his boxer shorts with a smirk.

“But hey, before we get hitched, you’re welcome to join us for one more round. We just finished the last one.”

Denver stood tall and muscular, not an ounce of fear in his eyes when it came to Oliver.

Oliver clenched his fists, his expression shifting from rage to a calm eeriness, like the quiet before a storm.

“What? You want to hit me?” Denver’s voice dripped with contempt.

To his surprise, Oliver’s expression was the same.

“Yes, I want to hit you,” Oliver said through gritted teeth.

A split second later, before Denver could react, Oliver’s fist connected with his jaw, knocking him flat to the floor and out cold.

The last expression on Denver’s face was one of utter disbelief. 

He couldn’t comprehend how this “nobody” had knocked him out with a single punch.