My husband, Liam Hayes, was a celebrity photographer. He’d always end up sleeping with his models during intimate photo shoots. He called it his “art.” But it was his art that led my police officer father to get injured saving him years ago. And it was Liam who got down on his knees, begging my mother for my hand in marriage. Now, as the 99th model entered the studio, I was ordered to kneel on the floor, holding her discarded clothes. The next second, a heavy metal stand crashed down on my head, hard. “Three years, and you still can’t even catch a simple piece of clothing?” “I have you here to watch, to learn how to be a good clothes hanger, not to be a damn tripping hazard!” I wiped the blood from my forehead, then obediently bowed my head in submission. Everyone thought I was just a nobody by his side, broken down completely, leaving nothing but a shell. But then I disappeared completely from his lens. Liam, the man who never stayed with any woman, searched for me for seven long years. … Liam stared at me, his eyes burning, as I knelt on the floor, silent and still. The spot he’d just rubbed with his cuff bled anew, a fresh red stain spreading. Suddenly, a foot kicked my side. I curled into a ball, drenched in a cold sweat from the pain. “Are you mute?” “Playing the silent game with me, huh? You think I can’t see through you? No matter how deep you hide your intentions, I’ll rip them out!” His boot twisted again, grinding into my bones. My vision swam with black spots. I struggled to get up, to fight back. But he leaned close, his voice a chilling threat in my ear. “Your father’s still lying in the hospital. If no one taught you manners, I will.” A shiver ran through me. I swallowed my rage, lowered my head, and continued to kneel. The shoot resumed. Two figures intertwined before me, the sounds of their heavy breathing and moans crashed into my ears. He’d enacted countless intimate scenes with other women right in front of me. Once, he even made me kneel by the bed, forcing me to count how many times they had sex that night. I don’t know how much time passed. My knees were numb, and my lower abdomen ached so badly I couldn’t hold the kneeling position any longer. I slowly crawled to my feet. Someone saw me stand, and a voice from the side whistled, mocking, “Trying to sneak away already? Not waiting for Liam to finish?” Usually, I’d have to stay on my knees until he was done. But not this time. I couldn’t. Liam, breathing heavily, spoke in a cold voice. “Let her go. What’s with the act of defiance? This pathetic lapdog, you think she’d dare not come back?” At his words, everyone present erupted in loud laughter, placing bets right in front of me. They bet that even if I left now, I’d be begging Liam to open the door for me by nightfall. Watching Liam and Skylar grow more and more exposed in front of everyone, my heart felt like it was bleeding. I knew that due to the nature of Liam’s photography, these scenes might be considered “normal” in the industry. But I simply couldn’t accept it – watching one beautiful, young woman after another, getting intimate with my husband right before my eyes. The eyes of the surrounding crowd darted back and forth between us. After it was over, Liam looked up and instructed me. “Skylar’s feeling a bit run down. Go home and make a soothing herbal broth for her.” Liam held Skylar close, the thin blanket over them barely hiding the flushed marks they’d left on each other. My heart trembled as I struggled to speak, “I can do it, but the cost of the ingredients…” Before I could finish, Skylar gasped from Liam’s arms. “Seriously, Anya? Liam doesn’t lack money for food or drink. Why do you have to be so picky about such a small amount?” “You live in Liam’s house, you eat, drink, and use his money for everything. Now, he’s just asking you to make some soup, and you’re already haggling over money with him? Do you think Liam’s place is some kind of market where you can bargain?” She snuggled deeper into Liam’s embrace, her fingertips tracing his collarbone. “Besides, you’re always complaining about headaches or stomach aches every few days. Liam hasn’t kicked you out yet, and you dare to ask for money? Are you saving up to run away?” She deliberately sat up, puffing out her chest. As the blanket slipped down, Liam tenderly kissed her chest. She was truly a top-tier model, the kind you see on every major runway – her features and figure simply dazzling. Then I looked at myself. A faded, worn-out T-shirt, so thin I was practically skin and bones. My face was sallow, completely lacking any vitality. In Liam’s eyes, I was probably worse than a maid, just a pathetic dog trailing behind him. 2 To outsiders, I was Anya Miller, the wife of celebrity photographer Liam Hayes. He came from a prominent family, one of the wealthiest in their circle, and personally held countless awards. Netizens always envied me, saying Liam’s wife must have earned immense good karma in her past life to snag such a catch. They’d say I’d hit the marital jackpot. But very few knew that my life was worse than trash. The glamorous facade, the blessings – they were all just an illusion. The reality was a miserable, humiliating existence. He confiscated all my documents. My phone? I got it every few days, for ten minutes tops. For three years, I had no money, no time of my own, and I hadn’t even had a proper conversation with anyone other than Liam. “Bitch, you really want to run, don’t you?” Liam looked at me with pure disgust, pulling a few bills from his wallet and flicking them at me. The crisp paper currency whipped my face, leaving a stinging mark, and slicing through my dignity once more. My father was still unconscious, needing medication daily to maintain his vital functions. All of it was paid for by Liam. What was my dignity compared to that? I crouched down, picking up the bills one by one. I stood up, turned calmly, and as I was about to walk out the door, I felt his burning gaze on my back. He called out to me. “Leave the good luck charm necklace,” he said, his voice cold. “Skylar hasn’t been sleeping well lately.” That necklace was the last thing my mother left me. My eyes instantly welled up. I stared at him in disbelief, but Liam remained cold. “How much? Name your price.” I clenched the necklace tight. He knew. He knew perfectly well where that necklace came from. He knew how important it was to me. He knew it was my only keepsake. But I also knew that six months ago, on a hike, just because I hadn’t carried Skylar’s bag, he’d had his bodyguards hold my head to the ground and made me lick her shoes. My hands trembling, I took off the good luck charm necklace, my nose stinging, and placed it into Skylar’s hand. I choked out, “I hope you take good care of it. And I hope you have good dreams every night.” Hearing that, Liam actually showed a rare hint of a pleasant expression. Skylar took the necklace, but not long after, she let out a shriek. A large red rash had appeared on her arm. Liam picked her up, shoved past me, and headed out, ordering me to drive them to the hospital. On the way, the pain in my lower abdomen grew worse, cold sweat beading on my forehead. It felt like it was getting more and more severe. Liam sat in the back seat, cradling Skylar. He murmured soft words of comfort, and I saw Skylar’s smug smile reflected in the rearview mirror. At the hospital, after a series of examinations, the doctor said the necklace had been coated with a substance Skylar was allergic to. Luckily, they’d gotten there in time, or she could have gone into anaphylactic shock. As soon as the doctor finished speaking, Liam slapped me without warning. “What the hell is wrong with you? How did you become so malicious?!” “Skylar never did anything to you! How dare you try to kill her?!” He grabbed my wrist, twisting it with crushing force. “If anything happens to her, I’ll skin you alive!” Watching the concern in his eyes for another woman, even breathing felt painful. Three years ago, Liam, with his prominent family background, suddenly shot to fame as a top-tier photographer. But his blunt personality had offended many. During an outing, he was kidnapped in an act of revenge, even intended to be sold overseas. My father, then a lead detective on the case, was shot while trying to save Liam’s life. In the beginning, he wasn’t as cold as the rumors suggested. When my father was in surgery, Liam paid for all his medical expenses, and even now, though my father lived as a vegetable, I was still grateful. I remember that afternoon, he rushed to my house, got down on his knees, and begged my mother for my hand. My mother smiled, placed my hand in his, and said reassuringly, “Anya’s father owes you so much. She has a difficult temper, please be more tolerant with her in the future.” But just like that, on the third day of our marriage, on our way back from visiting my parents, my mother was hit by a car while out shopping and died instantly. 3 After that, Liam seemed to revert to the man the industry rumors described. During several rough nights, he’d choke my neck, whispering warnings in my ear: “Anya Miller, you’ll never leave me. Never…” Those words became a chilling prophecy, trapping me. How could I forget? Liam, a ruthless player in the cutthroat world of fame and power, was more obsessed with control and violence than with tenderness or care. How could I forget that even when he cloaked himself in gentleness, it couldn’t hide the cold cruelty in his bones? Our ill-fated connection, with its clearly defined stages, should have been severed from the very beginning. After the hospital results, they didn’t wait for me. They went straight back to the villa in the suburbs. By the time I, enduring the heavy ache in my lower abdomen, stumbled back home step by painful step, it was already early the next morning. Sounds of pleasure still echoed from the master bedroom. My palm, gripping the doorknob, was slick with sweat. I looked at the only wedding photo of Liam and me in the living room. My throat felt raw. I stared at it for a long time, then took it down and cut it into tiny pieces with scissors. I searched for a painkiller, only to find them tossed into the trash can, mixed with leftover soup. I curled up silently next to the garbage bin. My pants leg slowly soaked with blood. My consciousness blurred, and I passed out. I was jolted awake by a bucket of ice water. Still groggy, I felt a figure pressing down on me. Before I could fully regain my senses, I heard a surprised female voice from the doorway. “Anya, Liam was looking for you all night! You were hiding in this room all along. If you came back, you could have just told him. You made us search for so long, and look at you…” It was then I realized I’d been stripped naked, my entire body aching. The man on top of me had one arm wrapped around me and the other gripping my breast. Everywhere I looked, my skin was covered in red marks. This room was originally the maid’s room. A year ago, the maids, seeing which way the wind blew, had kicked me out and made me move in here. It was tiny and stuffy. I frantically pushed the man off me, my body trembling uncontrollably. Liam strode in, furiously grabbing the man by his hair and punching him. “You sick bastard, you dared to touch *my* woman? You’ve got a death wish!” “You’re asking for it.” Another punch landed. The man was instantly bruised and swollen, covering his mouth as he seized the chance to escape. Liam turned to me, his face red with rage, veins bulging in his neck. He roared at me, “Anya Miller, you really know how to degrade yourself. You’re unbelievable.” I thought he would hit me, but instead, his raised fist slammed into the wall. Then he stormed out. Skylar leaned against the doorway, sneering, “Anya Miller, how was it? Enjoy yourself?” “I’m Liam’s wife. Aren’t you afraid of what happens if he finds out the truth about what you’ve done to me?” Skylar scoffed, walking up to me and poking my lower abdomen with her finger. “Wife? Anya Miller, you must be in too much pain to think straight. Do you really think Liam sees you as his wife?” She suddenly leaned close, her words venomous whispers in my ear. “Do you know? The medicine on your lucky charm necklace didn’t just give me a rash. It also made your uterus bleed heavily.” “The doctor said you’ll never have children, Hahaha!” My body stiffened. No wonder. No wonder my lower abdomen had been aching so much yesterday. It was all thanks to her. All Skylar! No, this whole nightmare started because I met Liam. Father, if only you hadn’t led that team to rescue Liam, none of this would be happening now. I raised my hand, wiping away tears, and lunged forward in fury, but she easily dodged. My lower back slammed into the corner of a nearby table, and my vision went black from the pain. 4 Skylar covered her mouth and stepped back, a look of excitement on her face. “Liam wants a child more than anything. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out you can’t give him one? Will he keep a useless dog like you around?” I glared at her, my teeth chattering, a silent rage building inside me. Liam and I weren’t without children before. But I’d gotten pregnant twice, and both times ended in sudden miscarriages, with no explanation. After that, his attitude changed drastically, and he never touched me again. From then on, he’d stage all sorts of scandalous shoots with various models, always making sure I was there to watch. Just then, a cat meowed from the living room. It was Pumpkin, the orange tabby Liam and I had adopted when we first got married. It was the only living thing in this villa that would rub against my hand. But now its cries were incredibly mournful. I struggled and ran out. I saw Skylar’s assistant holding Pumpkin down, a needle plunging into its neck. “What are you doing?!” I shrieked, trying to stop her, but Skylar grabbed me. I watched as the assistant transferred Pumpkin’s blood into a nearby Ragdoll cat. Skylar, behind me, said slowly, “My Snowflake is sick. The vet said she needs a blood transfusion, and this little cat’s blood type matches perfectly. Look how lively Snowflake is; what’s wrong with donating a little blood?” “It’s too small! Drawing blood like that, you’ll kill it!” I watched helplessly as Pumpkin’s cries grew weaker and weaker. It lay on the ground, losing strength, no longer needing to be held down. Its once bright eyes slowly lost their luster, the fur on its neck soaked with blood. When the assistant pulled out the needle, Pumpkin was already silent, its tiny body curled into a ball, its limbs still twitching faintly. “Oh dear, how did it die?” Skylar feigned regret. “If I’d known it was so weak, I would’ve found another cat. Anya Miller, don’t blame me. Blame it for being just unlucky.” The housekeepers, standing nearby, chimed in, trying to curry favor. “Miss Skylar, we were tired of this stray cat anyway. It was always scratching things, so annoying.” “Yes, yes! Your cat looks so regal! Look how shiny its fur is!” Skylar suddenly released me. I rushed over and picked up Pumpkin’s cold body. Tears streamed down my face. Pumpkin hadn’t even had a chance to grow up, and now its life was gone. Now, my hope for a child was gone, and even my little cat had been killed by them. “What’s all this noise?” Liam’s voice came from the doorway. His tie was loose around his neck, and he smelled of alcohol. Skylar immediately reddened her eyes and threw herself into his arms, sobbing. “Liam, I heard you loved Pumpkin so much. I just brought my sick Snowflake over to play today, but Anya suddenly wanted Pumpkin to give Snowflake a blood transfusion. I told her the pet hospital has blood, but she wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t stop her, Liam, it’s so sad. Pumpkin was just bled to death.” As soon as Liam heard that Pumpkin had been “killed by me,” the alcohol fumes instantly vanished from him. I wanted to explain, but he suddenly smiled at me, his expression turning stone cold. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button as he stared right at me. “Stop the care at that place today.” Then he snatched Pumpkin from my arms and walked out. A jolt went through me. A dark premonition. Just then, Skylar appeared from somewhere and handed me my phone. The moment I took it, the phone rang. It was my father’s attending doctor. My fingers trembled. I answered with trepidation, and a voice that stole my breath came through the receiver. “Mrs. Miller, your father… has just stopped breathing. He passed away… Please accept my condolences.” *Buzz*. All other sounds around me vanished. My heart skipped a beat, then another. I stared blankly ahead, unable to shed a single tear. Skylar and her crew walked away, their laughter echoing in the sudden silence. Only I was left in the villa… “Ah…” That night, a news report flashed: “Early this morning, a woman in our city reportedly jumped off a bridge with an urn, ending her life. Police have launched an investigation.” 5 People thought it was just another tragic suicide story, but no one knew it would trigger a massive chain reaction. Liam didn’t see the news until the evening of the next day.
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