Alex waited in the foyer for his troubled fake wife. She entered the room and looked tired and distressed. Probably tired from the days of playing with his nymphomaniac friends. And that includes the sex addict lover.
"So, you are always away," Alex mumbled.
"You were always away too." She gritted her teeth toward him, answering coldly.
"Well, at least I am doing a real business. Then, how about you?" He smirked. "Why are you always flustered, Margarette?" He stood from the sofa with a martini glass in his hand. What's bothering you?"
"What's bother me?" She snorted. "You never treated me like your wife. Or even fuck me?"
"Why?" He scoffed. "Why would I fuck someone as dirty as you? Aren't you satisfied with the gigantic penises that you fucked every night?" He smirked. "Or you like the small white one?"
That made Margarette confused at the moment. Just how did he know? What else does he know?
