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Let's Wait and See, My Cruel Husband Novel Cover

Let's Wait and See, My Cruel Husband

When Odette’s daughter is kidnapped, her cruel husband Gillian freezes her accounts and dismisses the abduction as a hoax. Convinced by his mistress and a fraudulent DNA test, he abandons his own flesh and blood. With her child’s life ticking away and nowhere left to turn, a desperate Odette contacts Aamon Rutherford—the one powerful man she vowed to avoid forever. To secure his help and save her daughter, she must offer him the only asset she has left: herself.
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Chapter 4

“Oh my! She— she slapped me!”

She shrieked, stumbling back like I had snapped her in half, clutching her face, wailing like some porcelain doll someone had dropped. Her act was flawless, practiced to the bone.

Gasps spread through the crowd. Whispers cut like knives.

“Did you see that?”

“Poor Jenniva.”

“Odette’s lost it.”

“Isn’t that Mr. Gillian’s wife? Why is she hitting Miss Jenniva?”

I could feel every eye on me, burning into my skin, but I didn’t care anymore.

“You think I don’t see you?” I shouted, voice hoarse, trembling with years of swallowed pain. “You snuck into my life, whispered poison into Gillian’s ears, made him turn his back on me. You ruined my family and now… you tried to hurt Zenith!” My throat burned as the words tore out. “You think your tears hide your venom, but I know exactly who you are. A scheming, manipulative snake!”

Jenniva shook her head, sobbing harder, like some wronged saint. The crowd softened to her, but I knew better.

Then Gillian’s voice thundered behind me. “Odette!”

I turned just in time to see his hand rise. The slap hit me fast, brutal, knocking me down.

He loomed over me. “After hurting my daughter, you dare lay your filthy hands on my first love? If it weren’t for that cursed arranged marriage, Jenniva would have been my wife!”

The crowd gasped again, whispers twisting the knife deeper.

“She’s unstable.”

“No wonder Mr. Gillian never loved her.”

“I heard Zenith isn’t even his. She cheated.”

Jenniva’s soft sobs made her look fragile, innocent, precious. And I was the monster. Always the monster.

Tears blurred my vision, but I forced the words out. “Then divorce me! I’m done with this farce. I don’t want to be your wife anymore!”

Gillian laughed, cold and sharp. “What a desperate psycho you are. First, you fake a kidnapping just to get my attention. And now you throw another pathetic scene? You should win an award for acting, Odette.”

He pulled papers from his jacket and tossed them at me like trash. They scattered at my feet. “Here. Isn’t this what you want?”

I bent down, hands trembling, to pick them up. But before I could, he leaned down too, snatching them back with a cruel smirk.

“Did you really think I’d make it that easy?” His voice dripped venom. “You’ll serve me for another week before I sign this. Until then, you’re mine.”

He waved the papers like a leash I couldn’t escape, then turned, wrapping his arm around Jenniva’s shoulders, leading her away like she was his treasure and I was just dirt beneath his shoes.

The crowd’s eyes stayed on me, disgusted, condemning. My hands shook as I forced myself to stand, legs weak, heart crushed under their judgment.

...

I walked down the hall, dragging my body, until I reached Zenith’s room. I closed the door, pressed my forehead to the wood, shaking and crying so hard my chest ached.

Through my sobs, I whispered a promise that tasted like blood. “Well then, Gillian… by a week, I’m no longer tied to you.”

After three days in the hospital, I finally brought Zenith home. She was still pale, still weak, but at least she was alive. If it were up to me, I’d never set foot in that house again. But I had no choice. I needed my mother’s heirloom, some of Zenith’s things, and a few of my own.

I pushed the door open, and my breath caught. Jenniva. She was standing in the middle of the living room like she owned the place, Gibeah sprawled on the couch, laughing like he had every right to be there.

Zenith’s tiny voice trembled next to me. “Mama… why is Gibeah here?”

Before I could answer, Gibeah looked up, smug, a little grin spreading across her face. “Because this is my house now. I’m the real daughter. You’re just… nothing.”

Zenith flinched, her hand clutching mine. Heat rose in my chest, and I wanted to rip that arrogance right out of her. But Jenniva’s lips curled, voice smooth as poison. “Gibeah, go to your room.”

She grinned, satisfied, and marched up the stairs like a little princess.

The maids passed by, eyes flicking away from me. Whispers cut through the air like knives. “Mr. Gillian ordered everything moved… Madam Odette’s things are in the maid’s quarters now.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the tears back. Jenniva pressed a hand to her chest, pretending embarrassment. “Oh, Odette… Gillian said I should stay here with Gibeah. He’s tired of hiding our relationship. I didn’t know they’d move your things. Please don’t misunderstand me.”

Her voice was honey, but her eyes were laughing.

I bit down on my rage for Zenith’s sake. I took her hand and walked to the maid’s quarters.

Inside the tiny room, Zenith finally broke, tears soaking my sleeve.

“Mama, why is Papa treating us like we don’t exist?”

I held her tight, rocking her against my chest. “Don’t cry, baby. One day soon, we’ll leave this place. And you’ll never have to bow your head to anyone again.”

...

That night, the villa was alive with lights and music spilling from the dining hall. A dinner for Gillian’s business partners. I was forced to sit far down the table, like a guest who wasn’t welcome in her own home.

Jenniva sat at Gillian’s side, her hand brushing his arm like she already owned him. She smiled sweetly, gently, and the men at the table stared, admiring her like she was some kind of goddess.

One of them glanced at me. “And… who is she?”

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