His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

It is said that every wife expects a surprise from her husband on their wedding anniversary, and so do I.

“No matter what I did wrong, you'll forgive me, right?”

My husband, Ron, sat across the table from me and looked at me gravely.

“Yes?” The lights in the fancy restaurant made me dizzy for a moment. I thought I was hearing things.

“You know how much I want to have a baby. He will be the heir to our company. But we've been trying for so many years and we're always disappointed. I even thought about giving up.”

“I’m so sorry!” I put the unopened box back on the table. I felt a bit uneasy that my husband had suddenly brought up the subject. My gut tells me that the following discussion may not be a pleasant one.

I looked down, afraid to meet my husband's eyes, only to catch a glimpse of his thin lips pressed into a line. When I graduated from college at the age of 22, my father married me to him, Ron Moore. I knew it was my destiny to marry a businessman and turn my happiness into a tool of family bondage, but the moment I learned my fiance's name, the 22-year-old me still covered my mouth in surprise.

Ron Moore, the youngest Moore heir. The man all the girls in the merchant's family want to marry.

"Marry him, help him, give him an heir, be a good wife, so that our family can be protected forever," my father whispered in my ear on our wedding day.

I nodded. "I will."

After I got married, I did everything my father asked me to do. I became the Mrs. Moore that everyone admired and imitated. I provide my husband with emotional support and business advice, help him socialize in high society, and deal with secret and tricky issues. I can assure you that, apart from not being pregnant, I am doing better than any other lady in high society.

During those seven years, Ron would occasionally complain that he didn't have children, but he never expressed much dissatisfaction because he needed me in his business and in his life. But today, on our seventh wedding anniversary, he brought it up again.

“Good news, your younger sister Gina is pregnant,” Ron said in a cheery tone. “You should be happy for that unborn child.”

I was stunned for a second. Gina never told me she had a boyfriend. I always thought my father would choose a business marriage for her, just like mine. I looked at Ron and nodded. Anyway, I should be happy for my sister and her unborn child. That's a good thing.

“That's my baby,” Ron said casually, as if saying something unimpressive.

His words struck me like lightning, and my hands trembled. My head was full of loud buzzing sounds which made me only see Ron's moving lips. I felt like I had sunk to the bottom of an icy chill lake, completely unable to hear what he was saying.

It probably took me a few minutes until I shook out of my stupor. I knew that my world was collapsing!

He always said he would be loyal to me, but now he has easily broken the oath we made in front of God!

Why my sister? When did they start?

Why was I never aware of that?

D.amn it!

By the time I got my wits about me, I was madly running out and driving straight to Gina's apartment.

An hour later, I staggered out of the car and knocked on her door with trembling lips. I wish I were sick. I wish I'd realized I was just having a bad dream and I would open my eyes the next second.

Please, let me wake up from this nightmare.

But the reality was still cruel——Gina opened the door with a bathrobe, and her curly red hair was dripping with water.

She seemed to know why I was there. She leaned against the doorjamb and shook her hair deliberately. The water in her hair was flung into my face, and my skin stung as if she had slapped me.

“Why you?” I screamed. “Why do you take everything that belongs to me? Why?”

She didn't answer me. She just looked at me provocatively and then looked behind me.

“Answer me! Why are you doing this? Do you know that this is a real blow to me?”

Gina still hasn't answered. A few seconds later, she suddenly squatted down in pain. Then someone ran up behind me. Gina shouted, “Help! She…She's going to kill me and my baby!”

I saw blood flowing down the curve of her leg on the floor.

“No, not me!”

I was caught by a pair of big hands. “No! Let me go! I'm Mrs. Moore. You can't do this to me!”

But no one replied to me, I was held down like a criminal, and my ears were filled with my heavy, painful breathing.

……………………………………

I woke up again. The windowless room told me that I was still in prison. The damp, rancid smell brought me back from my dream. I'm still in this d.amn prison, where the Moore family secretly executed prisoners.

Yes, Gina miscarried. She claimed I was the murderer, but I didn't touch her at all.

But my explanation didn't help. Ron locked me in here!

"What were you shouting about?" The ugly bald guard with the scar on his face opened the door with his key and came in. He raised his whip and threw it directly at me.

"You need to learn how to shut up!"

"I want to see my husband, Ron, and tell him I'm pregnant," I told the guard, enduring the pain of the flogging.

Just a few days ago, I realized that my period had been delayed. So I traded the only valuable watch I had on me for a pregnancy test by bribing another guard, and it turned out I was pregnant!

The guard grinned scornfully. "Are you sure it's not mine?"

He squatted in front of me and stared at my breasts with a perverted look. "I've never enjoyed a boss's wife. Is your wet garden salty, too?"

I spat in the guard's face in disgust. "Shut your mouth," I said, "As Mrs. Moore, I order you to tell Ron I want to see him!"

The guard wiped the spit from his face with his hand, and his lascivious eyes continued to scan my body, "There is no Mrs. Moore here, only the prisoner, and I think Mr. Moore must have known that the female prisoner was being ridden like a horse in prison. Do you think he would believe that the child in your belly is his?"

"How can you help me?" My voice softened. I had to rely on him to see my husband.

"You know what to do!" The guard stood up and began to undo his belt. Then the phone rang. It was his cell phone.

He grunted and strode out of the cell with his trousers up, but he was soon back again. I noticed that his belt was fastened to his waist, and the man's face showed his displeasure at being interrupted.

"Someone will see you in five minutes!"