Chapter 1The Island Trial To Train An Obedient Wife

After the yacht went down, I was stranded on a nightmare of an island for three years.

I had my fingernails ripped out. I was forced to eat raw meat. I was broken and trained like a wild animal.

Until the day a red flare shot into the sky. I ran for my life, desperate for rescue.

But when I reached the beach, I watched the tribal chief wipe the blood-red war paint from his face.

Underneath was the face of my fiancé, Joseph.

"Congratulations. You passed the wife-training trial."

"From now on, you are going to be a perfect, obedient wife."

Joseph pulled my violently trembling body into his arms. His eyes were red, his voice as sickeningly gentle as it used to be when we were dating.

And the "Chief's Wife," the woman who used to hold my hands down and laugh while she ripped my nails out one by one?

That was Valerie. My best friend.

"You were too rebellious before, Scarlett. Too spoiled. Your temper was unacceptable."

Back home, my parents smiled warmly, showering me with praise.

"Exactly. This is wonderful. Look how docile she is now."

* * *

Pop.

A red flare exploded over the ocean while I was squatting by a rocky pit, smashing animal bones with a rock.

I was making soup for the Chief.

If the bones weren't crushed fine enough, I would be beaten tonight.

I froze for a split second, dropped the heavy stone, and bolted toward the water.

My right leg had been mangled by a wild dog during my first year fighting for scraps. I ran with a heavy, pathetic limp.

Jagged reefs sliced open the soles of my feet. Low-hanging branches tore at my arms. I didn't care.

Rescue was here.

I truly believed rescue was here.

I stumbled and collapsed onto the sandy beach, dragging my body toward the pristine white yacht anchored in the shallows.

"Help me. Please, God, help me."

A man stood on the deck.

Tall, heavily muscled, his face smeared with bloody tribal paint, wearing a crown of feathers.

The cannibal Chief.

My entire body locked up. A second later, my knees gave out and I slammed hard into the wet sand.

"Master. I wasn't running away."

"I was looking for firewood. I swear I wasn't running."

I wrapped my arms around my head and pressed my forehead brutally into the sand. My voice was a broken, terrified squeak.

A soft sigh floated down from above me.

"Scarlett."

Perfect, unaccented English.

My head snapped up.

The Chief slowly pulled off his carved wooden mask. He wiped the greasepaint from his jaw, revealing a face I knew better than my own.

Joseph.

My billionaire fiancé.

My lips trembled uncontrollably. It took me agonizing seconds to choke out a single word. "...Joseph?"

He stepped off the boat and crouched in front of me. Just like he had done a thousand times before we got engaged, he reached out and gently stroked my hair.

"It's me."

"Don't be scared. It's over."

I stared at him. My brain felt like it was being cleaved in half with an axe.

A familiar giggle echoed behind him.

The "Chief's Wife", the woman who always pinned my wrists while iron pliers tore my nails from their beds, took off her bone mask.

Valerie.

My ride-or-die best friend.

"Scarlett, why do you look like that?" Valerie smiled, crouching down next to me. "You should be thrilled. Joseph went through so much trouble to set this up for you."

I stared at her. A deafening ringing filled my ears.

Joseph pulled me into his chest. His voice was velvet.

"Scarlett, you used to fight with me constantly. You threatened to cancel the wedding. You kept saying you wanted to build your own startup."

"You were too proud. Too independent. You had no idea that a marriage can't survive on just love."

"I had to use extreme measures to teach you how to submit. To teach you how to rely on me. I had to rip those thorns right out of you."

His hand rubbed my spine, soothing me like a spooked stray dog.

"I know you suffered out here."

"But if I didn't do this, you would never have learned how to be a proper wife."

"It's all good now."

"You finally know your place."

My blood turned to ice. My stomach violently rebelled, and I threw up right there in the sand.

Valerie immediately jumped back in disgust.

But Joseph didn't flinch. He used an expensive pocket square to wipe the bile from my lips, his eyes practically swimming with tender affection.

"Alright, let's go home."

"Your parents are waiting for you."

That was the exact moment I realized the truth.

These past three years weren't a shipwreck. They weren't an act of God.

It was a calculated, custom-built slaughterhouse designed just for me.