Chapter 2After My Diagnosis, My Cruel Wife Went Crazy

The car pulled into the driveway of a massive house. It felt a little familiar, but I was too scared to remember why.

The walls were too white, like a hospital. The lights too bright, like flames.

The household staff lined the entrance, pinching their noses at the sight of my filth-caked clothes. Seraphina dumped me onto the plush living room carpet.

"Get him cleaned up," she ordered. "And don't let him ruin my carpets."

A couple of burly housekeepers came over and roughly dragged me toward a bathroom.

A faucet was turned on.

Hissing steam and scalding water erupted from the showerhead.

"Ah!" I screamed, scrambling into the corner. "Fire! It's fire! Don't burn me!"

The hot water on my skin felt just like the licks of flame on the yacht that night. I curled into a ball, hugging my head, my body wracked with tremors, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"Sir, please stop pretending," one of them said, grabbing me impatiently. "It's just water."

I thrashed wildly, my nails digging into his arm and drawing blood.

SMACK!

He backhanded me across the face. "You lunatic!"

When Seraphina burst in, I was huddled in the corner of the tub, a shivering, pathetic mess. They had stripped my clothes off, exposing the grotesque tapestry of scar tissue that covered my back—a twisted, gnarled mass like the roots of an ancient tree.

Seraphina's pupils contracted violently. She raised a hand as if to touch the scars, but stopped halfway, letting it hang in the air.

"You really committed to the role, didn't you?" she bit out, her voice a strange mix of sarcasm and something else I couldn't place. "All for a bit of theatre."

"Sera?" a smooth male voice called from the doorway.

Flynn walked in, dressed in a pristine, bespoke suit. He looked like a prince from a fairytale.

And I was a rat from the gutter.

Flynn's eyes widened in disgust at the sight of my back, but he quickly masked it with a look of concern. "Asher, what happened to you? Sera is just trying to help. You shouldn't have hurt the staff."

I caught a whiff of his cologne.

I sneezed and pointed at him. "Mister, you smell weird."

Flynn's smile faltered, his face tightening for a moment. Seraphina immediately stepped in front of him, shielding him as she glared at me.

"Asher, apologize to Flynn. Now!"

I didn't understand. He was the one who smelled weird. Why did I have to apologize?

I stubbornly pressed my lips together and said nothing.

Seraphina's patience snapped.

She strode to a closet and pulled out a box. Inside was a pair of black leather dress shoes.

Three years ago, they had been my most prized possession.

Now, the sight of them made my leg throb with a phantom ache. The memory of shattered bone screamed in my mind.

"You always loved these shoes, didn't you?" Seraphina tossed them in front of me. "Put them on. I want to see you wear them."

"No... I won't wear them..." I shook my head frantically, trying to back away. "Leg hurts... fire... don't burn me..."

She took this as defiance. "You won't wear them?"

A cruel smile touched her lips. She picked up the shoes and walked to the fireplace, where a low fire was burning.

"If you won't wear them now, then you'll never wear them again!"

She let them drop.

The flames instantly devoured the expensive leather.

"No!"

Watching the fire, something inside my head snapped.

The fire. The yacht. The broken leg.

The terror finally broke me. A warm, shameful puddle spread across the floor as the stench of urine filled the air.

Flynn gasped, covering his nose in disgust.

Seraphina stared at the puddle on her pristine floor, her face turning to stone.

And in that moment, she finally seemed to understand.

The man who had once stood as proud and graceful as a swan...

Asher... was truly broken.