I Was About to Marry My Mistress, 30 Years Younger Than Me.

The bright hotel hallway suddenly felt much colder than it had just a few moments before.

Before I could ask him another question, a familiar female voice called out my name from down the corridor.

“Jonathan!”

I turned around quickly to see who it was.

It was Rebecca, my younger sister.

She stood at the far end of the carpeted corridor, looking terribly pale and completely out of breath.