02

ONE MONTH LATER.

"Oh yeah! Keep it up, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

"Do you like it this way?" the female voice moaned.

I snorted, trying to muster enthusiasm as I turned off the surveillance camera capturing yet another intimate encounter between Mason and someone else.

I fought back the urge to vomit.

I no longer cried. The time when I knew about Mason's betrayals and cried was long gone. Now, I just felt disgusted. It was as if that man, my husband, became more and more repulsive with each passing day. Kylie once opened my eyes.

I sat at the desk and opened my laptop. I was a brilliant mind and loved to develop technological projects. It was a pity that my work never materialized.

I was a faithful and dedicated wife. All that truly mattered was to satisfy my husband's whims. But as I looked at the screen... I couldn't help but feel stupid and naive.

What good was it to be a good wife if Mason was unfaithful?

That was my husband, Mason Donovan. We had been married for three years but he never once touched me. He'd rather indulge himself in alcohol and women outside.

A knock resounded through the door, its ominous echo vibrating through the silent corridors of our home. I closed the laptop. It wasn't good for the people in that house to see me working. "What a waste of time," they always said.

The voice of my mother-in-law, Eleonor Westin, pierced through the thin veil of sanctuary that I had sought in my room: "Why are you hiding in the room again?" Eleonor's words carried a weight of disapproval, her tone sharp with disdain. "Are you rebelling because Mason is not home?"

"You've been married for three years," Eleonor continued, her voice rising in indignation, "and you can't even bear him a child."

A reminder of my perceived failure to fulfill my primary duty as a wife.

"Why are you being so unreasonable?" Eleonor's words lashed out like a whip. "Why did you not come out and cook?"

I sighed and stood up. It wasn't enough to endure Mason's coldness, distance, and infidelity. I also had to put up with my demanding and rude mother-in-law.

'It even takes two hands to clap. Giving birth to a child is not something that I can do alone. Am I supposed to reproduce on my own?' I thought.

Suppressing the nauseating feeling that swirled within me, I forced myself to open the door and head to the kitchen.

Ever since I married into the Donovan family, my once promising life had descended into a relentless nightmare. The vibrant hues of my independence had been muted, and the dreams of building a successful career were reduced to mere echoes of what could have been.

The betrayals were... humiliating, to say the least, but they didn't compare to the pain of being arrested and prevented from working.

I had willingly sacrificed everything I held dear, convinced that my unwavering dedication would eventually win Mason's heart.

But my hopes had been shattered, crumbling under the weight of his indifference and his family's animosity. I had poured every ounce of my being into this relationship, believing that my love and efforts would bridge the gap that separated us.

Instead, my sacrifices were met with disdain.

It was just a marriage of convenience. Mason never cared. I had to learn the hard way not to care either.

"Ah! Arabella, are you crazy?" Eleonor's voice pierced through the air, filled with annoyance and disgust. "You are mixing your blood with the dishes! Are you trying to disgust me to death?"

I winced as I heard my mother-in-law's relentless nagging. A bead of crimson blood trickled from my finger, evidence of a careless mistake in the midst of my culinary endeavors. Yet, to my surprise, there was no accompanying surge of pain. It was as if my senses had been momentarily numbed.

I stared at the bright red blood dripping from my finger, the vivid color contrasting against the pristine kitchen tiles. As my eyes shifted from the wound to my mother-in-law's face contorted in disgust, a surge of emotions overwhelmed me.

"I just cut myself," I said impatiently.

"You should be more careful then," my mother-in-law spat.

Eleonor was a beautiful and vain lady. She didn't seem to be the 60 years old she was. Her hair was always dyed black, with no traces of gray. Her brown eyes were harsh, like dictators.

"You should cook your own food then," I retorted, without much thought.

Eleonor raised her eyebrows. "What did you say, girl?"

My throat tightened. I lived with Mason and Eleonor, and I never dared to be rude. I knew that my family's business depended on that cursed marriage.

As Eleonor surged forward, her presence akin to an approaching storm, I braced myself for the onslaught of verbal barbs and potential physical blows.

With a resigned gesture, I bowed my head, a silent acknowledgment of my subordinate position in this tumultuous household. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," my voice barely rose above a whisper.

For a moment, the air crackled with tension as Eleonor scrutinized me with a mixture of disdain and superiority. Then, with a regal lift of her chin, Eleonor issued a reminder: "Remember your place, Arabella."

**

I had already given up on Mason, and now I was giving up on my role as the good and saintly wife too.

It was late at night. I pulled my coat hood even lower and stepped out of the taxi, leaving a generous tip for the driver without exchanging a word. I was terrified of being recognized.

Not wanting to be seen in that remote part of the city, I hurried into the establishment. It was a very secluded place, exclusive to high society.

"Is your name on the list?" the security guard asked, raising an eyebrow. He highly doubted that a small, delicate woman like me would have a reservation in that place, especially looking as frightened and disguised as I was.

"Diana Flowers," I whispered, giving a false name I used to make the reservation.

The security guard confirmed the name and allowed me to enter. I couldn't risk being seen in that part of town, so I quickly made my way into the establishment.

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I had managed to get in.

The loud music and throng of people left me disoriented, but I had a plan: revenge.

For three years, my marriage contract with Mason had been everything to me. To maintain peace between the families, I had accepted being a submissive wife.

But that was over now!