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My Husband Locked Me in the Basement for His Mistress Novel Cover

My Husband Locked Me in the Basement for His Mistress

Two years ago, I was brutally dragged from my home in the Lawson penthouse and locked away in the dark. My billionaire husband betrayed me, sacrificing my freedom to make room for his mistress. Now, I have finally returned to the towering glass structure where my nightmare began. Standing on steady legs, I am ready to confront the secrets of my painful past, face my captors, and reclaim the life that was stolen from me.
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Chapter 3

The guests arrived at seven. I heard them in the foyer. Laughter. The clink of coats being taken. Voices that knew how to fill expensive rooms.

I was in the kitchen plating appetizers. Smoked salmon. Cream cheese with capers. Little crackers arranged in neat rows. My hands moved fast. Emberly had checked everything twice already.

She came in now wearing a black dress that used to hang in my closet. Her hair was up. Diamond earrings caught the light. My mother's earrings.

"They look perfect," she said, looking at the trays. "Bring them out in five minutes. Not before."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She left. I counted to three hundred. I carried the first tray into the dining room.

Eight people sat around the table. Business associates. I recognized some faces from the old days. They didn't recognize me. I was furniture now. I set the tray down and stepped back.

Cassian sat at the far end. He wore a charcoal suit. He was talking about a merger. His hands moved when he spoke. I used to watch those hands. I used to think they were gentle.

Emberly sat at the head of the table. My seat. She smiled at the guests like a woman who had always belonged there.

"Luella," she called. Her voice was bright. Sweet. "We need wine."

I went to the bar cart. Six bottles stood ready. Red. White. I knew which ones went with which course. I had planned these dinners a hundred times before.

I brought the first bottle to the table. I started to pour.

"Wait," Emberly said.

I stopped. Everyone looked at her.

She smiled wider. "We should make sure it's good. Luella, taste it first."

I stood very still. The bottle was heavy in my hands.

"It's a tradition in Europe," she said to the guests. "The servant tastes first. To ensure quality."

One of the women laughed. "How charming."

Emberly held out an empty glass. "Go ahead, Luella. Just a sip."

I poured. I lifted the glass. I drank.

The wine was dry and cold. It went down smooth. I set the glass down.

"Lovely," Emberly said. "Now pour for everyone."

I moved around the table. I filled each glass. My hands were steady.

When I finished, Emberly was watching me. Her eyes were bright.

"Actually," she said, "bring the other bottles too. We should taste them all. Make sure everything is perfect."

I went back to the cart. I brought the second bottle. She made me taste it. Then the third. Then the fourth.

By the fifth glass, my throat felt tight. By the sixth, my face was hot.

I set the bottle down. The room tilted slightly. I pressed my hand against the sideboard.

"Luella?" Emberly's voice was far away. "Are you alright?"

I tried to answer. My tongue was thick. My lips were swelling.

Someone said something. I couldn't hear it. The room was spinning now. I reached for the edge of the table.

My throat closed.

I couldn't breathe.

I heard a chair scrape. Footsteps. Someone grabbed my arm. The glass fell from my hand and shattered on the floor.

"Jesus Christ," Cassian's voice. Rough. Close. "She's allergic. She's in shock."

I tried to pull air in. Nothing came. My vision went dark at the edges.

"Call 911," he was shouting. "Now!"

I felt the floor under my knees. When did I fall? Hands on my shoulders. Cassian's face above me. His mouth was moving but I couldn't hear the words.

My chest burned. I clawed at my throat. It didn't help.

Someone was screaming. Maybe me. I wasn't sure.

Then there were more voices. Uniforms. A stretcher. Oxygen mask pressed over my face. Cold air rushed in. I gasped. Choked. Gasped again.

The paramedics lifted me. I saw the dining room upside down. The guests pressed against the walls. Cassian standing in the middle with his hands in his hair.

And Emberly. In the doorway. Watching.

She was smiling.

---

I woke up in a white room. Fluorescent lights. Beeping machines. An IV in my arm.

My face felt huge. Swollen. My throat was raw.

A nurse came in. She checked the machines. She wrote something on a clipboard.

"You're lucky," she said quietly. "Another minute and your airway would have closed completely."

I tried to speak. My voice came out like gravel. "How long?"

"You've been here four hours. They're keeping you overnight for observation."

She adjusted my blanket. Her hand brushed something. She stopped.

She looked at me. Then at the door. Then back at me.

She pulled the blanket up higher. Tucked it around my shoulders. When she stepped back, there was something small and hard under the fabric near my hip.

"Rest," she said. She left.

I waited until the footsteps faded. I reached under the blanket.

A phone. Small. Black. Unfamiliar.

There was a folded piece of paper taped to the back. I peeled it off. I opened it with shaking hands.

The handwriting was neat. Precise.

*Your brother's friend. I know where you were. When you're ready, I will be.*

Below that, a number. Ten digits. Nothing else.

I read it twice. Three times. I memorized every number.

Then I pulled the IV pole with me to the bathroom. I tore the paper into tiny pieces. I flushed them. I watched them disappear.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was still swollen. My eyes were bloodshot. But I was alive.

I went back to the bed. I tucked the phone under the mattress.

I closed my eyes. I thought about the number. I thought about my brother. I thought about the word *ready*.

I wasn't ready yet.

But I was close.

---

They released me the next morning. Cassian came to pick me up. He didn't speak in the car. He didn't look at me.

When we got back to the penthouse, Emberly was in the living room. She looked up from her magazine.

"Oh good," she said. "You're back. The kitchen needs cleaning. We had breakfast."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

I went downstairs. I sat on the cot. I reached under the mattress. The phone was still there.

I held it in my hands. I didn't turn it on. Not yet.

But now I had a line to the outside.

Now I had a way out.

I just had to wait for the right moment.

And I was very good at waiting.

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