The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 805

On Saturday morning, since Natalie had the day off from filming, she went back to her apartment in the city.

When she unlocked the door, she found the place completely empty.

Figuring Marico had probably taken Kristin out to play, she didn't bother calling to check. Seeing the apartment in a state of chaos, she dropped her bag and started cleaning up.

The two of them had originally discussed hiring a housekeeper, but given Natalie's celebrity status and the fact that their marriage was completely fake, they were too worried a maid might snoop and sell their secrets to the tabloids. So, they decided against it.

That meant Marico was stuck taking care of Kristin, cooking the meals, and doing all the chores. For a former trust-fund playboy, the fact that he hadn't turned the place into a literal pigsty was honestly a massive improvement.

As Natalie was tidying up, the doorbell suddenly rang.

It clearly wasn't Marico and Kristin. Who could it be?

Frowning in confusion, Natalie went to open the door. Before she could even see who was standing there, the person lunged at her for a hug. Natalie instinctively stumbled backward, and the visitor, realizing they were about to embrace the wrong person, slammed on the brakes.

"Still haven't changed your ways, I see. After everything that happened, you still have the guts to bring women home."

The person speaking was a woman with a choppy bob haircut. She was wearing a black micro-dress with a V-neck plunging all the way down to her stomach, leaving practically nothing to the imagination. Heavy, dramatic makeup, chunky jewelry, and six-inch heels completed the look. Her outfit could only be described as bizarrely exaggerated—a fashion statement completely beyond Natalie's comprehension.

After tossing out that insult, the woman sauntered right into the apartment like she owned the place.

"Who are you looking for?" Natalie asked, her brow furrowing.

The woman shot Natalie a mocking look, then hollered toward the bedrooms, "Marico! Are you still in bed, you lazy bastard? Get your ass out here and say hello!"

Natalie's mouth twitched. Birds of a feather flock together; the people Marico hung out with were exactly his brand of trash.

"He's not home," Natalie said coolly.

"Not home?"

The woman sneered, then flopped down onto the sofa. "Then I'll just wait for him."

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