My Ex Chose His Mistress, the Billionaire Heir Chose Me

It was Labor Day weekend, and Les Henson insisted on stopping at an abandoned highway rest stop. Said the car was stuffy, said he needed to stretch his legs. He'd be right back. I sat in the car for twenty minutes, dread climbing in my chest, then went looking for him.

And there, behind the abandoned gas station, I saw him kissing Lila Bennett.

She was curled against him, her voice sweet and shameless: "Exciting, isn't it? Your wife's sitting in the car and you're out here fooling around with me?"

Les let out a low laugh. "You little temptress. Keep it down. Don't go upsetting my wife."