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

The food delivery arrived exactly forty-eight hours later.

I was scrubbing the kitchen floor when Mrs. Chen intercepted the delivery man at the back entrance. A large basket with a red wax seal sat on the counter.

"For the staff," the delivery man said loudly. "Compliments of the Rosewood Hotel."

Mrs. Chen sorted through pastries and bread while the guards watched, bored. At the bottom, she found a small box and walked directly to me.

"You missed a spot," she said, pressing the box into my palm. "The baseboards in the wine cellar. Where no one can hear you work."

I nodded and disappeared into the basement.

Inside the box was a sleek black phone and a note: Untraceable. Encrypted. Destroy your old one. - A.B.

I transferred the recording to the new phone, then crushed my old one under my heel. The new phone vibrated.

"Status?"

"Safe. Need access to Tyron's study tonight."

"Too soon."

"Not if I'm caught stealing food. They'll punish me, but I'll get access."

"You're cleverer than I expected."

"You're not the first man to underestimate me."

"What do you need?"

"A distraction. Midnight. Fifteen minutes."

"Consider it done."

.....

At 11:45 PM, I crept to the kitchen and deliberately knocked over plates.

A guard caught me with bread in my hands. "Stealing now?"

"Please," I gasped. "I'm so hungry."

He dragged me toward the stairs when an explosion rocked the west wing.

"West garage! The cars are on fire!"

Every guard ran toward the chaos.

I had my fifteen minutes.

I ran to Tyron's study and unlocked it with my key. In his private bathroom, I climbed onto the toilet and opened the air vent.

Inside was a fireproof box with a combination lock. My daughter's birthday, the daughter he'd wanted but never had.

The box opened.

Financial records. Names of politicians on his payroll. Evidence of assassinations and human trafficking. I photographed everything with trembling hands.

This could destroy Tyron completely.

Footsteps approached in the hallway.

"Mr. Poltort! The west garage-"

I shoved everything back, replaced the grate, and jumped down just as the study door opened.

I ran out of the bathroom, deliberately crashing into Tyron.

"Morry?" He grabbed my shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"I got lost," I gasped. "The explosion, everyone ran, I was scared-"

"Search her," Tyron ordered the guards.

They checked my pockets, my sleeves, my shoes.

But not my bra.

"Nothing, sir."

Tyron's eyes narrowed. "You're lying. Take her back to the basement. No food for three days."

Back in the basement, I pulled out the phone.

"Got it. Everything."

"Send it to me."

"Not yet. I need a dead man's switch. If something happens to me, this goes public."

"Smart. What else?"

I hesitated.

"I'm pregnant."

Long pause.

"Tyron's?"

"Yes. Six weeks. He doesn't know."

"Does that change things?"

"It makes it more important. I won't let my child grow up knowing their father destroyed me."

"Then we'll make sure he doesn't. Tomorrow, we plan phase two."

Outside my door, guards changed shifts.

"Three days with no food. She'll be dead before then. Especially in her condition."

"What condition?"

"Chen thinks she's pregnant. Throwing up every morning."

"Does Mr. Poltort know?"

"Not yet. But Miss Moose does. She told Chen to keep it quiet."

My blood froze.

I grabbed the phone.

"Change of plans. Hixia knows about the baby. We don't have two weeks."

"Tomorrow night. I'm coming to get you."

"Too risky."

"You're dead if you stay there. Do you understand?"

"I need one more thing. The real books from his desk. Without those, we can't prove the money trail. I'll get them."

"How?"

"Watch me."

I closed my eyes, pressing my hand to my stomach.

Tomorrow night, everything would change.

Either I would escape and begin my revenge, or I would die trying.

But I wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Hold on," I whispered. "Just hold on a little longer."

In the darkness, I smiled.

Let them think I was defeated.

Tomorrow night, they would learn the truth.

Morry Vaslus wasn't a victim anymore.

She was a weapon.

And she was about to go off.