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Doomed To Be My Husband's Slave, His Rival Breaks Me Free! Novel Cover

Doomed To Be My Husband's Slave, His Rival Breaks Me Free!

On her fifth anniversary, Morry Poltort is publicly ruined by her mafia tycoon husband, Tyron, who frames her for adultery with his rival, Alberto Barella. Imprisoned and pregnant, Morry is left for dead by Tyron and her treacherous best friend, Hixia. However, Morry holds proof of their conspiracy. Reaching out to Alberto, she forms an alliance of mutual retribution and unexpected passion. Together, they embark on a dangerous path to dismantle Tyron's empire and reclaim her stolen life.
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Chapter 4

Mrs. Chen found me in the third-floor bathroom at 11 PM, scrubbing tile grout with a toothbrush.

"Mrs. Poltort," she said gently. "That's enough for tonight. You need to rest."

"I'm not done," I said, my voice mechanical. My hands were bleeding. The chemical burns had split the skin on my knuckles.

"You're done," Mrs. Chen said firmly. She took the toothbrush from my hand. "Come with me."

She led me down the back stairs, past the kitchen, to a door I had never noticed before. She unlocked it and gestured for me to descend.

"The basement?" I asked, confused.

"Your new quarters," Mrs. Chen said quietly. "Mr. Poltort's orders."

The basement was cold and damp. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting sickly yellow light over concrete walls.

In the corner sat a narrow cot with a thin blanket. No bathroom. No windows. Just a bucket in the corner.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Chen whispered before she left, locking the door behind her.

I sat on the cot, staring at the concrete walls. From the lady of the estate to a prisoner in my own basement in less than twenty-four hours.

I reached into the deep pocket of my dress, it was the one place the guards hadn't searched, and pulled out my secondary phone.

It was an old phone I'd kept hidden for years, the one Tyron didn't know about. I'd always told myself it was paranoia. Now I knew it was just my survival instinct.

The battery showed 63%. I pulled out the tiny charger I'd hidden in my bra and plugged it into the outlet near the floor.

Then I lay down, pulling the thin blanket over myself. My whole body ached. The baby was fine, I told myself. The baby had to be fine.

I had just closed my eyes when footsteps echoed above me. The basement ceiling was thin so I could hear everything in the kitchen directly overhead.

"Here's her dinner," Mrs. Chen's voice said. "Though I don't know why you're bothering. A piece of bread and water? She'll starve."

"Mr. Poltort's orders," a guard replied. "She eats what we give her. Nothing more."

"This is cruel," Mrs. Chen said quietly.

"This is mercy," the guard said. "You should have seen what Miss Moose wanted to do to her."

My ears perked up.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Chen asked.

"Miss Moose suggested we put her in the old wine cellar," the guard said. "The one that floods. Said it would be fitting. Mrs. Poltort always complained about being claustrophobic, didn't she? Miss Moose thought a few days in there would 'break her properly.'"

My blood ran cold. Hixia knew about my claustrophobia. I'd told her after a panic attack in an elevator three years ago. She'd held me, comforted me, promised she'd always protect me.

"That's monstrous," Mrs. Chen said.

"Mr. Poltort said no," the guard continued.

"For now. But Miss Moose is persuasive. She's already moved into the master bedroom. Already acting like the lady of the house. Give it a week, maybe two. He'll give her whatever she wants."

"What about the divorce?" another voice asked.

"One month," the first guard said. "Miss Moose already has the papers drawn up. Infidelity clause means Mrs. Poltort gets nothing. Not a penny."

"If she even survives that long," the younger guard laughed.

"I heard Alberto Barella put a price on her head. Half a million to whoever delivers her to him."

My stomach twisted.

"Dead or alive?" Mrs. Chen asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Does it matter?" the guard replied.

Their footsteps faded. The kitchen door closed.

I lay in the darkness, my mind racing.

I have one month until the divorce and maybe just a week until Hixia convince Tyron to put me in the flooded cellar.

And outside these walls, I now had a bounty on my head.

I couldn't wait. I couldn't endure weeks of humiliation.

I needed to act now.

I sat up and pulled out my secondary phone. The recording from this morning was saved securely. I played it back softly.

"Five years and no heir. I needed a way out that made me look like the victim." Tyron's voice echoed.

Hixia's voice soon followed, "You framed your wife for adultery, Tyron. Just admit it."

That's when it clicked.

I had one ally. One person who had as much reason to want revenge on Tyron as I did.

Alberto Barella.

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