Eight Months Pregnant, My Husband Fed Me to Tibetan Mastiffs

Watching me through the window, drenched in blood, Joy let the corners of her lips curl upward. “What was that? I can't quite hear you~”

She turned to Maxwell with a wounded look. “I didn't ask for anything unreasonable. I almost ended up in the ICU, and Mrs. Farley won't even apologize.”

The sight of Joy's teary, pitiful expression dissolved whatever sliver of hesitation Maxwell had left.

He rubbed the top of her head, his voice dripping with tenderness.

“You little troublemaker. So what do you want to do about it?”

His tone was light, casual, as if he were discussing something that barely mattered. “Hmm, how about we loosen the chains another four inches? Let her get scared enough to cry, so you can blow off some steam. Sound good?”

The moment those words left his mouth, the maids in the house shuffled forward, one after another, pleading on my behalf.

“Sir, a pregnant woman can't handle that kind of fright. Please, spare her just this once. She's seven months along. That's your child too. And those are Tibetan Mastiffs in there. If they actually bite her……”

Maxwell's brow furrowed. He was silent for several seconds.

He seemed to think the screaming from inside the dark room was too raw, too agonized, and was about to agree when Joy let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.

“Oh, right……I almost forgot. This is the Farley house. The woman in there is Mrs. Farley. You're the real family. What am I, then……In the end, I'm the only villain here.”

She rubbed her reddened eyes and looked up at Maxwell. “But I just feel so wronged. Two months ago, if she hadn't faked a stomachache and called you home, I wouldn't have lost the baby. We had a child too, you know.”

Joy's voice carried clearly to my ears, and a sharp ringing filled my head.

My entire body went rigid. One phrase kept echoing through my skull: ‘We had a child too’. And then Maxwell's reply, soaked in aching tenderness: “We'll have another.”

No wonder Maxwell didn't care about this baby he'd spent five years waiting for.

No wonder he kept saying Joy deserved to vent.

The fainting, the ICU scare, it was all a pretext. They were pouring the grief of losing their child onto me.

But what had I done wrong?

The word "fine" caught in Maxwell's throat never made it out. He kissed Joy's forehead, his voice gentle.

“You're not an outsider.”

“Go adjust the chains. Vent however you want. I'm here. No one gets to say a word.”

A few of the maids, listening to the shrieks and the carnage coming from the dark room, tried to plead again. Maxwell silenced them with a single cold look.

“This house bears the Farley name. If any of you want to keep begging, you can pack your things and leave.”

He paused, then added, “Have the family doctor wait in the front courtyard.”

After that, none of the maids dared say another word.

Joy walked back to the control panel. The instant she released her grip, the Tibetan Mastiffs rushed me in a frenzy, knocking me flat.

She had unlatched every single collar.

The violence of that first surge of bites sent every vein in my body straining against my skin.

I fought to drag myself into a corner, using whatever strength I had left to shield my belly. But my hands, my arms, my legs were already torn beyond recognition.

Teeth kept ripping into me. Every inch I moved cost another strip of flesh wrenched away.

Blood seeped from everywhere at once, and every nerve screamed with a pain that went straight to the bone.

To keep them away from my stomach, I stopped fighting the rest of it, letting them have my body.

By the time I finally curled into a ball, there wasn't a single patch of skin left untouched. I looked like I had been washed in blood.

And my baby, inside me, had gone completely still.

Feeling the life drain out of my child, I screamed until my throat tore. “Maxwell Farley! My baby is dead! You killed him! You all deserve to die! When I get out, I will kill you with my own hands! I will make you suffer the way I'm suffering!”