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Served Scraps By My Cruel Husband Novel Cover

Served Scraps By My Cruel Husband

After losing her pharmaceutical empire to her husband Bolden, a former CEO is reduced to a servant. Alongside his mistress, Bolden frames her as insane and forces her to eat scraps while they seize her father’s legacy. She endures this abuse to protect her son, Leo, faking her medication to maintain her sanity. When they desecrate her past, she finally snaps. Escaping with proof of their crimes, she prepares to burn their stolen world to the ground.
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Chapter 4

I woke to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. White walls, white sheets, muted light. A hospital. Not the asylum, but close enough.

Dr. Althea Stuart was there, her face etched with worry, fatigue shadowing her kind eyes. When she saw my eyes open, a wave of relief washed over her. "Cassie," she breathed, her voice soft. "Thank god."

I didn't speak. I simply stared at her, my mind still hazy.

She leaned closer, a gentle hand on my arm. "You're safe. You're going to be okay."

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I ripped the IV from my arm. The needle prick didn't even register. I tried to push myself up, then fell back, a sharp pain in my side. My body screamed in protest. But I had to.

I pushed myself onto my knees beside the bed, bowing my head. "Dr. Stuart," I rasped, my voice weak. "I apologize for the trouble. I'm ready to resume my duties. Please, tell me what you need."

Althea gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She reached out, her fingers hovering over the bandage on my side. "Cassie, what are you doing?" Her eyes were filled with horror. She reached for me, a desperate plea in her eyes.

I flinched, pulling away, a primal fear seizing me. Don't touch me. Don't touch me like they do.

"Cassie, what happened to you?" Her voice trembled. "You were never like this." Her eyes searched mine, desperately seeking the woman she once knew. "I don't understand."

I remained silent, my eyes fixed on the pristine white floor. There was nothing to understand. Only to comply.

My silence was broken by the sharp ring of Althea's phone. She fumbled for it, her face a mask of concern. "Dr. Stuart."

A shrill, hysterical voice squawked from the other end. Kandace. "She' s gone! The baby won' t stop crying! He won' t shut up! Bolden, he' s useless! What am I supposed to do?!" Her voice was laced with pure panic, pure frustration.

Althea held the phone away from her ear, wincing. "Kandace, calm down. Cassie is still recovering-"

"I don't care! I need her! She has to come back! Now!" Kandace's demand was absolute.

Althea looked at me, then back at the phone. She sighed, a deep, weary sound. "I'll see what I can do."

I was already pushing myself up, ignoring the throbbing in my side. "I'm ready," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I need to go home."

Althea looked at me, a complicated mix of emotions in her eyes. "Cassie, you're not medically cleared-"

Just then, Bolden burst into the room, his face pale, his eyes wild. He took one look at my bandaged side, my pale face, the bloodstained sheets. "Cassie! What have you done to yourself?!" His voice was thick with accusation, but also a tremor of something else. Fear. Guilt.

"What happened to your side?" He demanded, his eyes wide. "Who did this?"

I met his gaze, a slow, chilling smile spreading across my lips. "You did, Bolden." My voice was soft, barely audible. "You told me to clean. And I cleaned. Just as you instructed."

His jaw dropped. He stared at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of horror and disbelief. "No. No, I didn't mean-"

The phone in Althea's hand rang again, cutting him off. Kandace. Her shrill voice was already screaming through the receiver. "Bolden, where ARE you?! Get home NOW! The baby is screaming!"

Bolden looked from me to the phone, a deer caught in headlights. He looked back at me, a desperate plea in his eyes. But I simply smiled.

Althea, meanwhile, caught my eye. She gave a subtle nod, a barely perceptible movement of her head. A silent confirmation. It's time.

Back in the mansion, Kandace was pacing, her hair a mess, her designer clothes rumpled. "Finally! What took you so long?" She snapped at Bolden, then glared at me. "He's been crying for hours! I don't know what to do with him!"

I walked past her, straight to the nursery. Leo was indeed wailing, his face red and blotchy. I picked him up, cradling him close. He quieted almost instantly, burying his face in my neck. I hummed a soft lullaby, the one my mother used to sing to me. The familiar melody soothed him, and soon, his tiny body relaxed against mine. He was asleep.

Bolden watched me, a lost, haunted look in his eyes. He looked from me, holding our son, to Kandace, who was now tearfully complaining about her broken nail.

Kandace caught Bolden's gaze. "Bolden, darling, why don't you take Cassie to her room?" She suggested, her voice falsely sweet. "She looks exhausted. And… we have some things to discuss." Her eyes flickered to me, a warning. Don't listen in. Don't interfere.

I knew what she meant. My "room" was the small, windowless chamber in the servant's quarters. A cage. As I walked away, I heard the faint, muffled sounds of their argument. Accusations. Desperation. Their fragile alliance was cracking.

I went to my designated room, a tiny space that smelled faintly of dust and neglect. The door clicked shut behind me. A cage. But now, it was a strategic position.

From the opulent master suite next door, a muffled moan reached my ears, followed by Bolden's low voice. Kandace. They were playing their games. Their twisted intimacy.

"Bolden," Kandace purred, her voice carrying through the thin wall. "You were so good tonight. You make me forget all about her." Her words were meant for me, a taunt, a cruel reminder of my displacement.

I walked to the small, grimy window, pushing it open just a crack. The night air was cool and crisp. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a small, foil-wrapped packet. Dr. Stuart's gift. It wasn't the usual sedative they forced on me. It was a placebo. She had been weaning me off the medication for weeks, replacing it with sugar pills.

I emptied the contents of the packet out the window, watching the white powder dissolve into the darkness. No more dulling my senses. No more blurring my resolve.

My hidden phone, a lifeline from Althea, vibrated discreetly in my hand. A message. Now.

I picked up Leo, who was sleeping soundly in the small, makeshift crib. His warmth filled me, a surge of fierce love and determination. I reached under the loose floorboard in the corner of the room, pulling out a small, worn backpack. Inside, a change of clothes, a few diapers, and a thick stack of documents. My evidence. My father's true medical records. Their embezzled business accounts. Everything.

Under the cloak of darkness, I slipped out of the mansion, a ghost reclaiming her life, her son, her future. The night was a silent accomplice. I climbed into the waiting car, the engine already purring softly. Althea was there, her face grim. She nodded, her eyes full of silent understanding.

"Let's go," I whispered, holding Leo tighter. The mansion, a symbol of my past torment, receded into the darkness. I was free. And they wouldn't even know I was gone until morning.

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