Really no new ground covered here. I'm sure that someone has written something similar before. If they have, I haven't read it, and maybe I actually created a new twist. If not, then at least it is written a bit differently. Anyway, enjoy. I write these stories for my entertainment. I really have no interest in ratings, so give me all the one-bombs you want. If you are looking for a reconciliation or a cuck-fest, I suggest that you hit the back button NOW.
No real sex here. This isn't a wank story. A bitch and a bastard both get burned. No violence, but justice is served. No real good guys in this one. I know this isn't very realistic, but this is FICTION!
Fuck! What are the odds? I haven't seen or heard from her in 10-years. Of course, that's because I disappeared and did everything I could to not be found by her, her new husband, and his family. I was pretty successful at it too. Yet, there she was. Standing in a booth at the expo for the same convention I was attending. Shit. She even walked right past me without even recognizing me. When that thought struck me, I began to form a plan. Oh yes, I can be a real bastard at times.
I should give you a bit of background here. You may also be wondering why my ex-wife's husband's family would be looking for me. It probably has something to do with the fact that they at one time were also my family. You see, her current husband is biologically my older brother. Of course, his parents are also biologically my parents, and his two younger sisters are my biological sisters as well. When everything blew up, I simply walked away and created a new life for myself.
So, my name is Marvin Anderson. It's been my name for the last 10-years. Marvin, because that was my given middle name, and Anderson because I looked up and saw the sticker for an Anderson Window when I was trying to think of a good last name to use. The slut I've been taking about is Beverly Curtis. She was Beverly Stinson in high school. Long, drawn out high school romance here. Use your imagination. Yes, we were high school sweethearts. Yes, we gave each other our virginities after our senior prom. Yes, I was in love with her. Yes, she was in love with me, well OK, with my family's money. Too bad I didn't know that at the time.
Yeah, my family had money. Mom and dad owned a medium sized manufacturing plant. We manufactured electronic components. We had several standard components, but that wasn't our main source of income. Seriously, the Chinese kicked our asses with their prices. We kept it up with the 'Made in America' requirements. Most of our market was small scale, high value items. It was specialty components that we designed and built based upon the customer's needs. It turned out that it was highly profitable.
OK, so some info on my family. There was mom and dad, of course. They started the business up before I was born. Dad had a degree in Electronic Engineering. His best friend had a degree in Manufacturing Engineering. My great-grandfather on my dad's side had made a ton of money during the Depression by loaning money to people who couldn't afford it to buy houses. When they couldn't make the payments, he foreclosed on the land. He actually 'sold' the same piece of land several times to different people. Maybe that explains where my family got their serious lack of morals from.
So, Brad is my older brother. I told you about mom and dad. I also have twin sisters that are younger than me. Truthfully, they were the babies of the family and the only daughters. Yes, they were spoiled. Their entire outlook on life was that if it didn't directly affect them, they didn't give a rat's ass. If it did somehow affect them, they went with the decision that least affected them. That probably explains their behavior when the shit hit the fan.
So, clichΓ© after clichΓ©. We got married just after our sophomore year in college. We had been married for 5-years when I came home early one day and found her in bed with my older brother. Long story short, I was just a steppingstone to her. Brad would eventually take over the family business, and I would remain a glorified worker bee. Sure, I would be technically second in charge, but it would be Brad with all the power, prestige, and access to society.
Bev and I went to high school together. We had started dating during our senior year. We both went to the local college. She ended up pregnant at the end of our sophomore year, so we got married over the summer. She dropped out to raise the baby while I went on to finish my degree. We had lots of help from my family. We were both 20-years old when we got married. Once Jenny turned two years old, Bev went to work as an administrative assistant at my family's business. They had an onsite daycare for their employees.
I had to wonder how she got pregnant, since we always used condoms. None ever broke as far as I know. She had a bad reaction to the pill, so she wasn't on it. Oh well, shit happens. I did notice that there were a couple weird episodes over the next 5-years. Twice, she had some strange issue that prevented us from having sex for about a week. I didn't really think much of it at the time.
I wanted more children, but it hadn't happened yet. I was hoping that we would have a boy this time. I did love my daughter, but every husband wants at least one boy to carry along the family name. Yes, I hear all you feminists out there who say the woman can keep her married name. I also hear all of you screaming that a father can teach his daughter all the things he can teach a son. Yes, girls can be gearheads and appreciate muscle cars and racing just like boys. Yes, they can become mechanics, get into sports, and everything else. Again, it's one of those things that are programed into men's brain. They want a son as an heir. Don't get me wrong here, I loved my daughter and was happy that we had her. Adding a son to the family would be icing on the cake.
Our 5-year anniversary was coming up at the end of the week. I had ordered her a nice matching set of earrings and necklace from a local jeweler. I snuck out of the office to pick it up, and I was going to sneak home to hide it while Bev was still at work. We both worked at my family's business. They had a daycare for employees, so she didn't need to worry about watching our daughter.
I picked up her gift, then rushed home. As I was approaching the house, I saw Brad's car in the driveway. That was really odd. He was supposed to still be at work, and he had no business being at my house at this time of day. I got a bad feeling about this. I parked on the street, two houses down and walked to the house. The door was unlocked. I quietly followed the sounds and made my way to the Master bedroom. Sure enough, Brad and Bev were both there having a grand old time. To this day, I'm still not sure how I managed to keep my temper in check. Regardless, I managed to get a good 5-minutes of video before sneaking back out of the house.
I had heard some of their talking. It sounded like this had been going on for a few years at least. Despite the rage that I was feeling, I knew that I had to take the time to get all the information and put a plan together. Flying off the handle would only cost me more money and humiliation. The divorce laws in this country fucked over the innocent husbands while rewarding the cheating sluts. That was especially true if there was a child involved. She would get the house, and I would get the mortgage. She would get custody and child support, and I would get missed visitations. She would get alimony (now called Spousal Maintenance), and I would get the honor of paying her to fuck other men. In order to minimize the damage, I had to keep this a secret until I was ready to strike. Oh, and she would not be getting the jewelry I just bought for her.
It took 3-months before I was ready. Now, you may be expecting me to tell you all the clever ways I went about avoiding having sex with the slut, and you would be wrong. Fucking hell! She is a beautiful woman and a fantastic piece of ass. I fucked her as much as I could. Besides, it wasn't like I was really risking getting a disease. She was only fucking my brother, not the whole town. The other thing was that If I tried to suddenly begin avoiding sex, she would get suspicious. No, I did an Emmy Award winning performance of being the loving husband and father.
I didn't mention it before, but I was the IT manager for the company. It became apparent that the rest of the family thought so little of me that they must have never even thought about that little fact. My team was responsible for all the software, hardware, and programing on every computer and machine in the company. I had unlimited access to everything that required any sort of computer code. I am the only one in the company with what I call the God Codes. Those codes give me unlimited access to every machine the company owns. Laptops, desktops, smart phones, CNC Machines, 3D printers, hell, I even reprogramed the coffee makers in the break room. A little piece of advice, if you are going to fuck over the IT guy, don't use company assets to discuss it.
Five minutes after getting to my office, I was reading all their text messages and emails. Yes, I said 'ALL THEIR'. I started with just Bev's and Brad's. From there, I found out that my parents had known about it as well. One text from mom was even discussing it with the twins and cautioned them to make sure that they didn't somehow let me know. Yes, my entire family not only knew that my brother was fucking my wife, but they also seemed to approve of it.
Now, you are probably thinking that I was at the edge of the breaking point. You would be correct. I really didn't see how this could get any worse. That was when it got exponentially worse. Jenny wasn't even my daughter. She was Brad's daughter. Those two episodes that I mentioned earlier that prevented us from having sex for a while? Abortions. She had two abortions because I was the biological father. She had Brad's baby, but she aborted my two children.
They needed to pay. They needed to pay a lot. The more I discovered the more I planned. Don't EVER fuck with the IT guy.
You may be wondering why. I know I was. It turned out it was just plain old greed. Brad was being groomed to take over the company. I was never going to be more than a shareholder (a minor one at that) and kept on as the head of IT. They were going to string me along as long as they could before Bev asked for a divorce so she could marry Brad. His income was going to be much higher than mine ever would. Why the wait? It's simple. They needed me to keep the machines going until they could find someone to replace me if needed. Sure, they hoped I would just accept the situation and stay, but they also wanted a back-up plan in case I left. Besides, I was raising their child and supporting Bev, so Brad had less to pay out. He could build up his finances to better take care of his wife and child later. They were also planning on never telling me about the true parentage of Jenny, thus leaving me on the hook for boatloads of child support payments.
For the next three months, I began to slowly siphon money from our investment accounts to a new account in the Cayman Islands. I sold Bev on the idea of taking out a second mortgage on the house to install a huge swimming pool and entertainment area in the back yard. Of course, she agreed to that. It would make it so she and Brad could do more entertaining, and I would be on the hook to pay for it. It took a full month for the loan to go through. I stashed that money in the offshore account as well. I would bring home some designs about once every two weeks to show her that I was working on it. I did the designs myself while I was supposed to be working. I even put a notice in an online website that we would be taking bids on the work. We ended up interviewing five different contractors.
I hired a PI to place hidden cameras in the house while Bev was at work. They were high definition and also recorded audio. Everything was recorded to a cloud server that could only be accessed by me, the PI, and my divorce lawyer. I continued to copy all their emails and text messages. I also printed out hard copies and kept them in a new safety deposit box I had opened in a different bank. That was under a new name, Marvin Anderson.