When My Agent Wife Betrayed Me, I Faked My Death to Escape

After the secret agent squad finished their mission, I heard the team teasing Scarlett Grey, "Scarlett, you and the captain take it easy this time. Don’t toss the bed until it falls apart again."

"You should tell Carter to be gentler, not me." Scarlett wore a sly smile, "And don’t go spreading nonsense in front of my husband tomorrow."

Seeing her take out her cell phone, the team members exchanged knowing smirks, "What’s for your husband is love, but what’s for Captain Brooks is desire. Scarlett, you’re truly diplomatic."

The next second, my phone buzzed.

Listening to Scarlett talk about how much she missed me, my heart sank to the depths.

She didn’t know I had secretly joined the squad as their intelligence analyst, accompanying her on every mission.

I hadn’t closed my eyes the entire night when she and Carter Brooks shared their first night together.

After ending the call with Scarlett, I dialed another number. "I accept your offer. I’ll leave the squad and settle into a quiet life."

A clear, calm voice replied, "Good. After the success of the decapitation operation, we’ll leave the country together. Just three days from now."

——

Meanwhile, Scarlett and Carter swere still flirting in the team’s group call as if no one else existed. The others laughed, calling them ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ like it was an inside joke everyone was in on.

Carter had joined the squad three months ago. During a mission, he’d been drugged. Scarlett, ever impulsive, stepped into his room. Three whole days and nights passed before Carter emerged from the room, looking deeply satisfied. Behind him, Scarlett had a flush of shame on her face.

Not long after, Carter became the squad’s captain—thanks in no small part to Scarlett’s influence. On every mission, they were inseparable, sharing rooms at every opportunity.

I’d known all of this for a while now, but today, I still couldn’t stop the ache in my chest. With a trembling hand, I pulled up the surveillance feed of Scarlett’s room.

In the highdefinition footage, she was pressed against the floortoceiling window by Carter, a layer of mist fogging up the glass. The two were entangled, seemingly inseparable. It wasn’t until four or five hours later that things finally came to an end.

Scarlett walked into the bathroom, and Carter tried to follow, only to be unceremoniously shut out, "Stay away from me!", she said coldly. "I’m going home, and I don’t want my husband to smell someone else on me."

Carter’s voice dropped, "I’ve been with you through life and death, but I’m still not as good as that useless man?"

Scarlett pulled Carter’s collar close and left an ambiguous kiss on him. But her words were like ice, "I only love my husband. Don’t dwell on it—it’s undignified. And don’t forget, we agreed from the start: no strings attached.".

Carter held her tightly, "I regret it. I want all of you."

But Scarlett’s resolve didn’t waver. Her face turned cold as she pulled away, "I promised Henry I’d stay with him after this mission."

Without a second glance, she left.

When Scarlett came home, I was sitting on the couch, reading a book. She smelled of the light, fresh perfume I’d personally chosen for her—an accomplice now, masking her guilt. But as she approached me, I caught the faintest trace of something else—something that belonged to Carter.

No matter how thoroughly she washed, there were always lingering signs of another man. She straddled me, her hands sliding under my shirt, signaling her intentions.

“Honey, shall we make a baby?”, as Scarlett whispered, her warm breath tickling my skin, I could no longer keep up the facade.

Without a word, I gently pushed her away and rushed into the bathroom. Scrubbing every inch of skin she had touched until it was red, I finally slumped against the wall, my body trembling.

A child? Did she really think I didn’t know? Inside her, she was already carrying Carter' child. What made her think I’d ever be willing to raise another man’s child?

After what felt like an eternity, I stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a mask of calm. Feigning concern, I asked, “When’s your next mission?”

“In three days. It’s a big operation.”. She hesitated, then added apologetically, “Honey, I’m so sorry. It’s on our anniversary, so I won’t be able to spend it with you.”

I forced a smile, “It’s okay. Just try to come home early afterward. I’ve prepared a gift for you.”

Scarlett’s face lit up with an unrestrained smile. “Okay! I’ll be the first to rush back and see the surprise my husband has for me!”

I turned away, and my smile vanished instantly. Will seeing my lifeless body surprise you?

The next morning, Scarlett woke me up with her usual tricks, igniting heat across my body. “Hubby, the team’s having a gettogether at the headquarters restaurant today. Come with me. But for now, let’s... well…”

Pretending not to catch her hint, I got up and headed straight to the bathroom. A flicker of confusion crossed Scarlett’s face.

Later that day, using my cover as an ordinary civilian, I passed through the headquarters' security checks with ease.

As I entered the restaurant, I could hear snippets of conversation among the team, “The intelligence analyst isn’t coming again, huh? He’s way too mysterious.”

“Yeah, we’ve been working with him for three or four years now, and none of us have ever seen him. All I know is that he’s young.”

“In my opinion, that analyst has feelings for Scarlett. Every time there’s intel, she’s always the first one he informs.”

I lowered my head, hiding my expression. They weren’t wrong. I had joined this mess because of Scarlett.

She’d been determined to become an agent, and I couldn’t bear to stand in the way of her dream. So I had accepted the Secret Service’s invitation, with one condition: whenever there was intel, I’d be the first to relay it to her squad. And that was how I first learned of her betrayal. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Scarlett, noticing my change in demeanor, turned to the team with a sharp glare.

“What’s with all this nonsense?” she snapped.

The team members scrambled to their feet like schoolchildren caught misbehaving.

“Scarlett, we didn’t mean anything by it! Please don’t take it to heart, brotherinlaw.”

“Yeah, everyone here knows Scarlett only loves you. Every time she’s on a mission, she always takes your picture with her.”

“Exactly! She calls you whenever she can. You’re all she thinks about!” Their earnest faces would have convinced anyone. Anyone who didn’t already know the truth.

Across the room, Carter sat in the corner. Slowly, he stood, his face smug with satisfaction. “Henry,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Our eyes locked, and the undisguised hostility in his gaze was palpable. If Scarlett weren’t here, he wouldn’t have bothered to put on the charade.

At the dinner table, Scarlett played the perfect wife, peeling shrimp for me, filling my plate, and speaking with a sweet, gentle tone. The rest of the team cooed and teased us like we were a couple from a romance novel.

But Carter’s expression darkened as he drank glass after glass of liquor, his mood sinking further with each sip.

After three rounds of drinks, even I felt slightly lightheaded.

Carter stumbled out of the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Moments later, Scarlett received a message. She abruptly stood up, her cheeks and earlobes turning crimson.

When she noticed my questioning gaze, she quickly composed herself, forcing a calm tone.

“Honey, I was injured during the last mission, and the doctor advised me not to drink. I’ll head to the infirmary for a bit. You stay here and enjoy yourself with the others.”

With hurried steps, she left the room. A soft vibration came from my pocket—her message.

[Come to Room 302. There’s a surprise.]

The tone was cold, unlike Scarlett's usual warmth. Was it Carter’s provocation?

I lowered my gaze and ignored it, quietly pulling out my phone and accessing the intranet’s surveillance feed instead. The scene unfolding on the screen was nothing short of debauchery.

Carter, now dressed in a sheer, watersoaked shirt, leaned against Scarlett with predatory confidence. His toned muscles glistened under the light, exuding an allure Scarlett couldn’t seem to resist. Her flushed face and dreamy gaze betrayed her eagerness as she lay on the bed, waiting.

Carter grinned, satisfied, as he leaned in closer. But today, Scarlett seemed more impatient than usual, urging Carter to hurry up. She had no time for foreplay or idle talk—she was focused only on satisfying her desires so she could return home to play the role of a “loving wife.”

But then Scarlett’s eyes caught something on her phone—a message Carter had sent without her knowledge.

Her blood ran cold. The haze of passion dissipated in an instant. Scarlett shot up from the bed, her voice sharp and laced with fury. “You’d better hope my husband didn’t see this, or I’ll make sure you regret it!”

She stormed out of the room, ignoring Carter’s desperate pleas to stay. Her heels clattered loudly against the stairs as she rushed down, nearly twisting her ankle in her frantic pace.

But the fear of what awaited her if I had seen that message far outweighed the pain. Terrifying thoughts raced through her mind. “Did Henry see the message? Did he go to Room 302?” The consequences were too awful to imagine.

When Scarlett finally pushed open the restaurant door and saw me sitting calmly at the table, she exhaled a long breath of relief.

She threw herself into my arms, gasping for air. “Honey… you didn’t see the message I sent, right?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “My phone died earlier. What message? Was it important?”

Relief flooded her features. Her voice turned syrupy sweet, like honey dripping from a comb. “It’s nothing. Just having you by my side is all that matters.”

The other team members chuckled and began to tease her.

“Scarlett, the tigress, has turned into a kitten!”

“Henry, you have no idea. Scarlett is the strongest, scariest woman on the team. But today, she’s all soft and sweet!”

“Tsk, tsk. Henry, you should come around more often. Maybe Scarlett will stop scolding us so much!”

The room erupted in laughter.

Moments later, Carter entered, his face composed, though the flicker of bitterness in his eyes was unmistakable. “Yes, with Henry here, Scarlett seems so… different,” he said, his smile just wide enough to mask his spite.

He raised his glass in a toast. “To Henry—take good care of Scarlett. There are quite a few folks in the General Agents Department with their eye on her.”

I played along, feigning interest. “Oh? Is that so? Who in particular?”

Carter raised an eyebrow, his grin turning smug. “Well, there’s someone on this very team who admires her.”

Scarlett’s face darkened instantly, her smile faltering as panic flickered in her eyes. She forced a laugh, her tone overly light. “Don’t be ridiculous, Carter. Honey, he’s just joking.”

Carter leaned back in his chair, his expression defiant. “Of course, Henry, it’s just casual talk. Don’t read too much into it.”

But his tone betrayed his intentions—he wanted me to doubt her. Scarlett, clearly rattled, quickly tugged on my arm, her voice trembling slightly. “Let’s go home, Henry.”

I nodded, rising to my feet. The air between us felt heavy with unspoken truths as we left the restaurant together.

As we left the restaurant, I caught Carter' gaze lingering on me—a deliberate provocation, a silent dare. The drive home was tense, the car thick with unspoken words.

Scarlett tried to break the silence, her voice overly cheerful as she talked about mundane things. But I didn’t respond, keeping my eyes on the road, my grip on the steering wheel tight.

Later that night, as we lay in bed, Scarlett curled up against me, her slender arms draped across my back.

It was then I spoke, my voice soft yet cutting. “Scarlett, why do you smell like someone else? A scent I’ve noticed before... but not on you.”

Her body stiffened instantly. She shot out of bed, retreating into the bathroom so quickly it was almost comical. “That must be the disinfectant from the infirmary!” she called out, her voice trembling. “I’ll just take a quick shower. You don’t have to wait up, honey.”

I lay there listening to the water run, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. Two more days. Two more days, and this will all be over.

The next day, I woke to the scent of food wafting into the bedroom. It was nearly noon. Scarlett entered with a radiant smile, her voice sweet as honey. “Darling, wake up. I made all your favorites!”

At the dining table, she sat across from me, her eyes glued to my face as I ate. “I’m staying home today,” she declared. “I want to spend every second with you. Just you and me, together forever.”

For the rest of the day, she stayed true to her word. She clung to me like a shadow, ignoring her constantly buzzing phone.

We watched cheesy dramas, played old twoplayer games, and laughed at nothing in particular. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like the old days. Almost. But I knew better.

As night fell, the doorbell rang, breaking the illusion. Scarlett rose to answer, her voice light. “Who could that be at this hour?” Her tone shifted abruptly when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Carter’s voice followed, low and pitiful. “I had nowhere else to go. Won’t you let me in?”

When he stepped inside and saw me, his face lit with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Henry! I didn’t realize you’d be here. My hotel had issues, and Scarlett mentioned you had a guest room. I hope it’s not too much trouble?”

I glanced at Scarlett, whose face had paled, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Of course,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Make yourself at home.”

I excused myself to fetch some spare pajamas while Scarlett led Carter to the guest room.

Upstairs, I moved quietly, making sure to stay within earshot. I heard Scarlett’s sharp whisper, filled with barely restrained anger.

“Are you out of your mind? What do you think you’re doing?”

Carter’s reply was soft, pleading. “I miss you, Scarlett. I miss our child.” There was a brief pause before Scarlett hissed, her voice colder now.

“Shut up! The child I’m carrying belongs to my husband. Do you understand?”

But Carter wasn’t deterred. I heard the faint rustle of movement, the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

Perhaps the wedding photos on the walls had fueled his recklessness, but he was relentless, clinging to Scarlett as if she were his lifeline.

Their muffled whispers continued for several agonizing minutes before Scarlett seemed to regain control. “No,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “My husband is upstairs. This is insane.”

Carter chuckled lowly. “He’ll never hear us. The master bedroom is on the second floor, and we’re on the first. Come find me when he’s asleep.”

The sound of his arrogance made my blood boil, but I kept my composure. I knocked lightly on the door and entered.

“Captain Brooks,” I said, holding out a set of pajamas. “These were a gift from Scarlett. I haven’t worn them yet. I hope you don’t mind.”

Carter took them, feigning surprise. “If Scarlett picked them out, I’m sure they’re perfect. Thank you, Henry.” His eyes didn’t leave Scarlett, who stood frozen in place, her expression unreadable.

Before I left, Scarlett practically shoved me out of the room, muttering excuses about needing to show Carter around.

That night, Scarlett waited until she thought I was asleep before slipping out of bed. She left the bedroom quietly, the soft click of the door closing behind her barely audible.

I didn’t follow. I didn’t need to. Under my roof, in our shared home, their betrayal felt more brazen, more deliberate. Perhaps the thrill of getting away with it was part of the appeal.

But the clock was ticking. Two more days.

The moment the door clicked shut, I opened my eyes. From midnight to early morning, the guest room had been alive with muffled sounds, their voices carrying through the silence.

I had spent the night sitting on the edge of the bed, a cigarette perpetually lit between my fingers. The empty cartons littered the floor, and the acrid scent of smoke clung to the room, making me cough until tears burned my eyes.

Tears—for her. Why? I didn’t love her anymore. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

When the first rays of sunlight seeped into the room, I wiped my face clean, collected the spent cigarettes, and threw them into the trash. Along with them, I tossed years of feelings I could no longer bear to hold onto.

By tomorrow—no, by the end of today—this would all be over.

Scarlett stood by the door as I prepared to leave, her reluctance almost tangible.

“Hubby, when this mission is over, I promise I’ll stay with you. Just wait for me!” She kissed me over and over, delaying until the last possible second before she finally ran out the door, afraid of being late.

I watched her car speed off, her words echoing in my mind, hollow and meaningless. I turned and climbed up to the roof. The waiting helicopter blades sliced through the air, a reminder that there was no turning back now. As I boarded, a faint, familiar scent drifted toward me.

Moments later, a woman stumbled as the aircraft made a sharp turn, falling into my arms. “Still time to back out, you know,” her voice teased, low and melodic.

I helped her to her seat and closed my eyes, feigning indifference. “Brigadier General Gardner, you’re unusually talkative today.”

Bianca, the Secret Service’s only female brigadier general, was known for her icy demeanor, her presence commanding respect and fear alike. Yet now, her laughter—soft and lilting—filled the cramped cabin.

“Henry,” she said, her voice lowering, “this operation is critical. Taking down this network will destabilize the underground forces in the southwest for good. But you’ve been handpicked to be the bait.”

She hesitated, her tone tinged with rare concern. “Promise me you’ll prioritize your safety. No unnecessary risks, understood?”

I nodded silently, securing my gear as the helicopter neared the drop zone.

The field command room was ready and waiting, but as soon as I stepped inside, something felt off. The third operator through the door didn’t act right. His movements were stiff, deliberate. Instinctively, I turned to retreat, but a sharp prick in my neck stopped me.

My vision blurred, and the world tilted sideways as I heard a voice, smug and triumphant. “Finally. We’ve captured the famed intelligence analyst. Inform the chief immediately!”

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When the moving vehicle finally stopped, a team of agents was already on its way. Scarlett frowned as she reviewed the mission details. “The coordinates are so precise. But didn’t all the informants we planted die?”

The First Captain, a woman with a crisp, commanding voice, replied calmly. “It was the intelligence analyst. He blended in and risked everything to transmit the signal.”

Her voice softened, laced with emotion. “Today’s mission isn’t just about crushing the enemy. It’s also about bringing him back safely. That’s not just the Administrator’s order—it’s my personal plea.”

Scarlett let out a small laugh, her tone casual. “Seems like you and this analyst have a special bond, Captain.”

The First Captain smiled faintly. “I’ve admired him for years. You’re a woman, Scarlett—you understand what it’s like to worry about someone you care about, don’t you?”

Scarlett’s response came swiftly, her tone light but pointed. “I suppose I’m luckier than you, Captain. I’ve been married to the person I love for five years now.”

Carter, who had been listening in silence, snorted derisively. “That analyst? The one who usually hides behind the front lines? Let me guess—he showed up this time because the prize money was too good to resist.”

The First Captain’s demeanor shifted instantly, her temper flaring. “Shut up, Carter! Without him, none of your missions would have succeeded. You wouldn’t even be alive to sit here and spout nonsense!”

Chastened, Carter fell silent, muttering under his breath. The team pressed forward, moving under the cover of darkness toward their target.

The initial attack on the enemy’s outer defenses went smoothly. When Scarlett and Carter’s group stormed the warehouse, they found the enemy leader slumped against the secondfloor railing, his breath shallow. Beside him, tied up in five separate ways, was a man whose face was obscured by shadows. Even in the dim light, something about him stirred a sense of familiarity in Scarlett. Her thoughts were interrupted when Carter, walking ahead of her, suddenly collapsed to the ground.

“It hurts! My leg—it's pierced by a bullet!” Through the rain of gunfire, I saw Scarlett cradling Carter in her arms, her expression tight with panic. Her voice cracked, laced with sobs. “I can see the bone! The injury is severe—there’s no time to waste.”

Carter groaned, his voice low and trembling. “Just blow them all up, Scarlett. If this drags on, I might lose my leg... I’m terrified. What if I can’t marry you like this?”

The rest of the team hesitated, their focus shifting between Carter and the mission. “Captain, we can’t do that!” one of them argued. “We’re under orders to capture the chief alive! Besides, the intelligence analyst is still inside!”

But their protests were drowned out by Carter’s agonized scream. “I’m the captain! Am I not more important than some analyst?”

In the end, gratitude and duty paled in comparison to the bond she shared with Carter. Scarlett made up her mind. Grabbing the collar of one of her men, she whispered harshly, “The perimeter is secure—there’s no need to waste more time here. Throw in a bomb and report that the bandits detonated it themselves. Quickly! Don’t linger.”

She turned, hoisting Carter onto her shoulder with visible effort, and began to retreat. The moment the bomb was thrown, Scarlett hesitated, casting one final glance back toward the warehouse. The explosion illuminated the scene in stark clarity. For a brief moment, the figure tied up in the warehouse was unmistakable.

Our eyes met. I smiled—desperate, bitter, and resigned. Scarlett froze, her eyes wide, the realization crashing over her.

Then the blast wave hit. The force was so immense that she stumbled, momentarily losing consciousness.

When I woke up, the sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air. My arm throbbed, and my head pounded, but I was alive. Bianca, the First Captain, stood nearby, her posture stiff, her expression unreadable. “You’re awake,” she said curtly, exhaling a breath she must have been holding.

Her voice turned colder, almost scolding. “A mild concussion, a nasty bruise on your arm—you’ll recover soon. But don’t think you’re off the hook for this one.”

I chuckled weakly, wincing as the movement tugged at my wounds. That was Bianca Gardner for you. Even after all these years, she hadn’t changed—sharptongued and fiercely protective in her own twisted way. As she began reporting the mission results to her superiors, I closed my eyes, letting the weight of the day settle over me. Everything had gone according to plan. Or rather, this plan had been set in motion long ago.

Carter had been a plant from the very beginning. It was a fact that shocked even the upper echelons of the General Administration, though what surprised them more was how easily Scarlett fell for such a basic ploy. She claimed to love me, yet she betrayed me without hesitation. She climbed into another man’s bed, indulging her desires as though our vows meant nothing. That betrayal had sealed her fate.

Our fiveyear marriage was nothing more than a weapon now—a tool to dismantle the enemy from within. Scarlett became the perfect pawn. Through her, we fed false intelligence to Carter, who in turn delivered it to his superiors. Bit by bit, their organization crumbled under the weight of their own missteps.

Today’s mission had been the final act. From the moment I stepped into that enemycontrolled command room, the operation was already underway. The attacks on the periphery were nothing more than a diversion, designed to clear a path for me to infiltrate the heart of their base and transmit the precise coordinates.

By the time Scarlett and her team entered the warehouse, the enemy’s leader had already been dealt with—by my own hand. Of course, no one else knew that. The official report would credit Scarlett with the kill, painting her as a hero to shield me from potential retaliation.

When we’d devised the plan, Bianca had been adamant, her voice brimming with disdain. “It’s her honor to be your scapegoat,” she’d said, her tone cutting. “If she didn’t still have some use, I would’ve shot her myself.”

I didn’t respond then. There was nothing to say. Because deep down, I knew she was right.