Chapter 1

My husband, Michael Carter, recently got hooked on building miniature worlds. He set up a massive terrarium in our master bedroom, and it was absolutely off-limits for me.

One night, I got up to use the bathroom and thought I heard faint panting coming from inside the tank.

As I leaned in for a closer look, a robotic voice suddenly echoed in my mind, and a flood of comments started scrolling across my vision.

[LMAO, Sophie still thinks there are just ants in there.]

[Michael got a shrinking potion just to spice things up with Emily right by Sophie's bed. That's wild!]

[Hooking up in the terrarium right in front of his wife? Michael really knows how to chase excitement.]

I stared at those two tiny figures, no bigger than grains, frenziedly intertwined inside the tank. I didn't even hesitate. I turned around and grabbed a bottle of insecticide from the kitchen.

"Why are you up in the middle of the night, standing in front of my miniature world with a bottle of insecticide?"

Michael's voice came from behind me, filled with panic and barely suppressed anger.

I turned around.

He was standing barefoot in the bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

His chest was heaving, his forehead covered in sweat, and even his hair was wet.

I glanced at the insecticide in my hand, then looked back at him.

"I saw some bugs," I said.

"If you see bugs, just get rid of them. Why are you about to spray insecticide in my terrarium?" He strode over and snatched the plastic bottle from my hand.

I looked up at him, taking in how flustered and messy he looked.

"Weren't you supposed to be sleeping?" I asked. "Why did you come in here all sweaty?"

He avoided my gaze, and his voice went up a notch.

"Can't I just get up to use the bathroom? Did a quick set of burpees in the living room, so what if I'm sweaty?"

"Burpees in the living room at 2:30 AM, wearing nothing but your boxers?"

"I've been stressed out and can't sleep, so I worked out to blow off some steam. Got a problem with that?"

He set the insecticide down on the nightstand with a thud.

"The moss and miniature plants in that terrarium cost me a fortune—they're all imported. Just a bit of chemicals and the whole thing's wrecked.

"From now on, stay out of the master bedroom, and keep your hands off my terrarium."

So this was what he really used his terrarium for.

The robotic voice echoed in my mind again, with a barrage of comments flooding my vision.

[Damn, that freaked me out! Sophie actually tried to dump bug spray in there!]

[Thank god Michael was quick. He cashed in his points for 'Instant Growth' and 'Blink' or he and Emily would've been toast!]

[Bro, that excuse was so weak. Burpees at 2 AM? I'm dying over here.]

[But Sophie totally fell for it. In the original novel, she's just this clueless pushover who does whatever Michael tells her.]

[Poor Emily. She was just having her fun, and then Michael vanished. Now she's still crouched naked behind the fake mountain in the terrarium, shivering and scared out of her mind.]

I lowered my head a little, my eyes sweeping over the massive terrarium that stretched nearly five feet long.

Inside, there was a lifelike miniature rainforest—complete with a fake mountain, a tiny stream, and all sorts of tangled vines.

Behind the mountain in the far corner, I caught a glimpse of something unnatural—a flash of flesh-colored skin.

It was tiny, and it was trembling ever so slightly.

So the mistress was still hiding in there.

"What are you looking at?" Michael stepped forward, blocking my view with his body.

"Nothing," I said, looking away. "Just thought the scenery in your tank is kind of interesting."

"Doesn't matter if you think it's interesting; just stay out of it," Michael said, his face cold as he gestured toward the door. "Get out. I'm going to sleep."

"Didn't you say you couldn't sleep?" I asked.

"Just worked out, now I'm sleepy," he said, pushing me toward the door.

I let him usher me out of the room.

"Fine, sleep well," I said.

The door slammed shut right in my face, and the lock clicked shut.

I stood in the hallway, listening to the faint sounds coming from inside.

The barrage of comments was still rolling in my mind.

[Michael is such a badass—he kicked his wife out just to protect Emily.]

[Come on, hurry up! Change back already, dude! Your girl is still waiting for you behind the fake mountain!]

[Tonight's thrill isn't over yet—keep it going!]

Expressionless, I turned and headed back to the guest room.

Michael was a partner at an architecture firm, always looking polished and proper, putting on a show for everyone.

We'd been married for two years, and he always prided himself on being a man of principles—a total neat freak and perfectionist.

Even if I left a single hair on the couch, he'd frown and obsessively vacuum for ages.

Now, just to chase some so-called excitement, he actually shrank himself down and hooked up with another woman, rolling around like maniacs in a tank full of dirt and moss.

I lay on the guest room bed, staring up at the ceiling.

The insecticide was way too easy on them.

If they were so obsessed with their miniature world, so desperate for a thrill...

Then I would make sure they get a taste of real excitement, right there in that tank.

"Michael, I hope you've got enough points," I whispered into the emptiness.