I went home mid-day to grab some meeting documents, not expecting the projector in our living room to flick on automatically, displaying a single line of text. “Today’s mission: Pleasure yourself with my picture in front of your wife for one hour. Don’t forget to send me the video once you’re done, darling.” The next second, the projector shut off just as quickly. I tried to rationalize it, thinking maybe it was just a hallucination from my late-night work sessions. But that night, after my husband, Julian, the man I’d loved for ten years, fed me warm milk, I distinctly heard him growl a strange woman’s name under his breath. My body, however, felt like my limbs were filled with lead, utterly unable to move. Earlier that evening, when Julian fed me the milk, I’d been wary. I only took a symbolic tiny sip, then quietly poured the rest of the liquid into a potted plant as he turned to leave. But even that tiny sip was enough to paralyze me completely. I closed my eyes, but my hearing became unnaturally sharp. I could feel his warm breath ghost across my ear, then his muffled, suppressed moans began. “Scarlett… *Mmm*… *Ah*…” Knowing exactly what was happening, a wave of unspeakable nausea churned in my stomach. I couldn’t reconcile the man before me with the person I remembered, the one who’d walked with me from nothing to where we were today. The boy who used to blush just from a harmless joke in front of his classmates. The broke student who ate instant ramen for a month just to buy me a limited-edition lipstick. The man who, during the early days of his startup, would hug me and say, “Anya, I promise I’ll give you a good life someday.” Now, he was a high-powered CEO, always so suave, so charming to outsiders. But when I wasn’t looking, this was what he truly was. Time stretched, each second an agonizing eternity. Finally, the suffocating sounds stopped. I heard him sigh, a long, drawn-out breath, followed by the sound of water running in the bathroom. After the water stopped, he returned to bed, a faint scent of dampness clinging to him, and gently pulled me into his arms from behind. The familiar scent of his shower gel enveloped me, yet it only sent a cold shiver down my spine. His warm lips pressed against my cheek, as if nothing had happened at all. “I’ll always love you, Anya. Goodnight.” I froze, caught off guard. Did he truly love me? But the darkness was too quiet, and I couldn’t fight off the exhaustion, eventually slipping into a deep sleep. I woke up the next morning, and the spot beside me was already empty. A sticky note, with Julian’s familiar handwriting, was on the bedside table. “My dearest Anya, the project kicks off today, so I headed in early to prepare. Breakfast is on the table, don’t forget to eat! (＾Ｕ＾)ノ~ＹＯ.” Looking at the note, I felt a moment of disorientation. Everything that happened last night seemed like an absurd nightmare. But then I reached for the vase, pulling out the pinhole camera I’d secretly installed last night. I connected it to my phone, and the video playback from last night reminded me: it wasn’t a dream. The humiliation, the disgust – it was all real. My rationality screamed not to act rashly. I forced myself to calm down, fast-forwarding through the surveillance footage. Thankfully, the camera did capture a glimpse of the girl on his phone screen. I paused the video, zoomed in. The girl on the phone looked delicate, young, with a fragile, pitiful kind of beauty. I recognized that face, though. Her name was Scarlett. She was a professional mourner. Three months ago, at Julian’s mother’s funeral, a funeral team was hired, and this girl had cried the hardest. Anyone who didn’t know might have thought it was her own mother who had passed. I was intrigued by her dedication at the time, so I looked her up. Her parents were abusive, and to escape that home, she studied hard, working as a mourner to pay for her tuition and living expenses. After the funeral, it was me who asked Julian to give that girl twenty thousand dollars. Now, it seemed highly likely that’s when they met. I exited the video and called Julian. But several attempts went straight to voicemail.
Just as I put down my phone, an unknown number called. On the other end, it was a young woman’s voice. “Is this Ms. Sterling? I’d like to talk to you about your husband.” I recognized the voice instantly. It was the mourner. She then gave an address and hung up. I looked it up; it was a café in a secluded, remote area. Initially, I didn’t want to go. But the next second, my phone vibrated, and she sent me a photo. In the picture, I was lying on a bed, disheveled, my eyes unfocused, clearly drugged. My fists clenched, and I decided to go to the meeting. The café was indeed isolated, with barely any customers. I spotted her immediately. Scarlett was wearing a white dress, just as she had on the day I first saw her. Seeing me sit down, she smiled at me, then pulled out a stack of photos. The pictures showed me in various poses while I was unconscious, each one extremely explicit. “Ms. Sterling, you’re calmer than I expected. I assume you already know the whole story from the surveillance footage.” “I suggest you be reasonable and agree to a divorce with nothing. Otherwise, these photos will appear at your company and on all major platforms tomorrow.” I picked up the photos, tearing them into tiny pieces without hesitation. “Expose them, then. But making me leave with nothing? Impossible.” She seemed surprised by my reaction and let out a sneer. “Ms. Sterling, why are you making this difficult? Julian loves me. Why don’t you just graciously step aside?” “Why should I step aside?” I retorted, unable to hold back. Her smile widened, carrying a cruel certainty. “Because he can’t live without me.” The next second, she snapped her fingers. From a dimly lit corner of the café, several tall men emerged and surrounded me. Before I could even react, punches and kicks rained down on me. Pain forced me to curl up. After a brutal beating, they shoved a rag into my mouth and pushed me into a dog cage under the table. Scarlett watched my pathetic state for a while, then, right in front of me, called Julian. “Ten minutes. I want to see you here.” She hung up, not giving him a chance to speak. A faint, uncontrollable flicker of hope ignited in a corner of my heart. After all, Julian and I had loved each other for ten years. Surely, he wouldn’t just stand by and watch me being treated like this. But today was the launch day for his company’s biggest annual project. Julian was a complete workaholic. I remembered one time, during another important project, I simply asked him to come home early because I had a fever, and he gave me the silent treatment for three days. Would he abandon everything and rush here just for Scarlett’s vague command? Time ticked by in the silence, second by agonizing second. Every moment felt like a dull knife slowly carving into my heart. I even started counting in my head. Just as I reached 299, the café door burst open. Hurried, yet steady, footsteps grew louder, stopping right by the table. Through the gaps in the iron cage, I saw a pair of familiar, perfectly polished leather shoes. It was Julian. He actually came. He didn’t even take five minutes. “Master.” Julian’s voice was respectful, laced with a breathless urgency, clearly having run all the way here. “Sit in that chair now. You have ten minutes to relieve yourself.” Scarlett’s voice was like she was ordering a well-trained dog. I heard the chair scrape as it was pulled out. I struggled to reach out my hand, letting Julian step right on my fingers. The excruciating pain made my body tense instantly, and a muffled whimper escaped past the rag in my mouth. Julian’s foot froze.
He seemed to sense something was off, and with a hint of surprise, asked Scarlett: “Is there something under the table?” Julian leaned down, his hand just touching the edge of the tablecloth. Scarlett quickly reached out and pressed down on his wrist. “Don’t move. It’s just a crazy person I ‘borrowed’ from the asylum. She’s in the cage to add a little sensory thrill for you. Don’t worry about it.” Julian paused, glanced at her, and seemed to genuinely believe her, not pressing further. He closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair, still looking perfectly prim and proper. But under the tablecloth, I watched his suit pants, so close to me, and his hand resting on his lap. My stomach churned, a sickening wave of nausea making me want to throw up. I bit down hard on the rag in my mouth, my body thrashing violently within the cramped cage. “Clang!” A crisp sound echoed loudly in the silent café, drawing immediate attention. It was the jade pendant Julian had begged for on 999 steps, specifically for me, that had snapped from my neck. It fell to the ground, rolling to Julian’s feet. Julian’s movements abruptly stopped. He opened his eyes, looking down at the pendant. His face instantly changed. The next second, he ripped aside the heavy tablecloth. I instinctively squinted. He looked into the cage, at me. Our eyes met. I saw the tension in his eyes instantly dissipate, replaced by a long, relieved sigh. Scarlett, beside him, giggled, patting his shoulder. “Why so tense, Julian? I told you, it’s just a crazy person I ‘borrowed’ from the asylum. Did she scare you?” I followed his gaze, seeing my reflection in the café’s clean glass wall. My hair was maliciously matted and disheveled, like dry straw. My clothes were torn and wrinkled, stained with unknown grime. My face was smeared with dirt, and a rag was stuffed in my mouth. I truly looked like a lunatic. No wonder he hadn’t recognized me. That promise, “Even if you turn to ash, I’d recognize you instantly,” was just another lie. I looked at him, whimpering, trying to give him one last chance. “Mmm… mmm-hmm…” Seeing my distress, Scarlett raised her foot and kicked the cage twice. “What’s all that noise about? Keep it up and I’ll cut out your tongue.” The iron cage rattled with a “clang,” hitting me painfully. She then turned back to Julian, smiling. “Since you’ve uncovered her, why waste her? Julian, just pretend she’s Anya, and really let loose.” “Afterward, just make sure to finish on her face, okay?” I stared, wide-eyed in disbelief. Julian’s eyes flashed with a hint of excitement, and he actually started to move. My heart chilled, inch by agonizing inch. As his movements grew faster, I simply turned my head away, noticing a clock on the wall. After seeing the time, I breathed a sigh of relief and began to count down. Three. Two. One. “BANG!” The café door was kicked open. “Don’t move! Everyone, hands in the air!” The voice was loud and authoritative. Scarlett’s sweet smile instantly froze. Julian, who was positioned directly over me, also stiffened. Several uniformed police officers rushed in, quickly taking control of the scene. Soon, the iron cage was opened, and the rag was removed from my mouth. A female officer took off her jacket and draped it over me, softly reassuring me. “It’s okay, don’t be scared.” I was helped to my feet, my legs a bit shaky, but I stood firm. I looked up, meeting Julian’s gaze. He was being held by two officers, his hands raised above his head. As the police wiped the dirt from my face, he saw my features clearly, and his pupils constricted sharply. “Anya?” His voice held a tremor, barely perceptible. “What are you doing here?” I said nothing, just stared at him quietly. I don’t like fighting unprepared battles. Before I came here, I’d already called the police, instructing them that if I didn’t cancel the call in half an hour, they should come to this café to rescue me.
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