Chapter 3Black Friday Bruises

I lunged in front of him, scattering the pile of clothes, pressing one hand down hard on the hidden package while my other hand snatched out the Hermès pants.

"Here! I found them."

He saw the wrinkled state of the pants and threw them in my face. "Do you have any idea how much these cost, you worthless bitch? You could work your whole miserable life and never afford pants like these."

"I'll iron them for you," I said quickly, grabbing the pants from the floor.

He shoved me towards the living room. "Hurry up. I have an important party to go to."

While I ironed his precious pants, he searched the apartment twice more. The moment I finished, he threw me to the floor, his face contorted with rage. "Tell me! Where is he hiding?"

My hands shaking, I held out my phone. "You can check my phone. There's no one else. I've been here, waiting for you, like a good wife." My voice quavered. "You were so angry when you came in… you scare me. That’s why I was trembling."

A smug, satisfied smile spread across his face, and he let me go. I knew he loved it when I was afraid of him. It made him feel powerful, like he had me completely under his thumb.

He sat on the sofa and meticulously went through every app on my phone, finding nothing. With a roar of frustration, he slammed my phone down on the table and started tearing at his own hair. "Lina, I know your whole family looks down on me! So what if you were beautiful and successful? Look at you now! I've turned you into a useless, pathetic housewife!"

His words hit me like a physical blow. "You'd better behave," he snarled, "or I'll make sure you die a very painful death."

I was stunned. When we got married, I knew he was insecure about his finances, so I’d specifically told my parents not to ask for a bride price or dowry. So, naturally, he gave nothing. But he demanded I bring a house to the marriage. I had one, a condo I'd bought with my own money, so it became our marital home.

The moment I got pregnant, he knelt before me, begging me to quit my high-paying job. I refused, telling him his salary wasn't enough to support a family. He threatened to kill himself, screaming that money could be earned anytime, but our child's health was paramount.

So I quit. And I still lost the baby.

And that was the beginning of my miserable new life.