My Wife Loved Another, Yet Made Me Her Prisoner

I casually picked up the baseball bat leaning against the wall and swung it hard at his leg.

The crack of bone mixed with his screams, yet not a bit of pity rose in me. I enjoyed his pain, as if it were a song for my broken love.

Before the second hit could land, the door flew open. A cold wind rushed in, filled with anger.

The dark mouth of a gun aimed at me, and Athena’s voice cut through like ice.

“Waylon, let him go. I don’t want things between us to get uglier than they already are!”

With one hand, she held the gun; with the other, she pulled him close into her arms.

Her eyes softened, her voice turning gentle.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

A familiar line. Ten years ago, walking through blood toward my broken self, she had said those same words.

I laughed through the tears. “And if I say no?”

She laughed too.

“You’ve already taken his child, that’s enough. Let him go. Let’s act like nothing happened. That’s the best ending we’ll ever get.”

I knew her too well, and I could see the killing intent hidden under her smile; she truly wanted me dead.

Along this road, we had supported each other, and she had once poured all her tenderness into me, almost making me forget how many bodies she had stepped over to reach where she stood today.

No anger, only shame. I grabbed her hand and pressed the gun against my forehead.

“Do it then, kill me!”

“Athena, you know my nature. If I walk out alive today, you’d better be ready to collect the corpse of your pretty boy!”

The sharp click of a bullet being chambered cut through the air.

Athena’s bloodshot eyes locked on me as her fingers tightened around my throat.

“You think I don’t dare?”

“I can let go of the child’s matter, but him, you cannot touch!”

“Waylon, don’t push me!”

I stared back at her with a blank face.

The tense standoff broke with the sudden shrill ring of a phone. Athena let go of me and pressed answer.

When she hung up, her smile softened once more.

She gently stroked Nolan’s head, her eyes brimming with doting affection.

“The child is fine. You’ve caused enough trouble. Leave now, and don’t come back again.”

Nolan’s eyes were bloodshot as he limped toward the door.

A single dismissive sentence, as if to end everything, far too easy.

I lifted my chin, and the bodyguards instantly blocked Nolan’s path.

Athena shot me a cold glance.

Between us, a single look was enough; our tacit understanding needed no words.

Then her lips curved faintly as she beckoned Nolan over. “Come, apologize to Waylon before you leave.”

He stiffened, resentment and grievance clouding his face. Yet he still obeyed, moving reluctantly to stand before me.

He bowed.

“Mr. Gasper, I was too impulsive. I came at you without knowing the truth.”

“Hurting you was my fault. But you also lost a child, you should understand how I feel, right?”

“A father who can’t even protect his own child, what difference is there between that and trash?”

He called it an apology, but every word was a blade to the chest.

I raised my hand and struck him hard across the face.

“The last person who dared speak to me like that, their bones have long since rotted away!”

“How many lives do you think you have, to provoke me so recklessly?”

Nolan clutched his face, crying like a wounded deer on the verge of death.

I sneered and delivered another backhanded slap, the sharp crack echoing through the room.

Nolan stood unharmed, yet I collapsed to the ground.

Athena stepped forward, her heel grinding mercilessly into my hand. Her coldness was so foreign it pierced straight into my bones.

“I told you, don’t touch him!”