The Cursed Dog My Boyfriend Brought Home

Only to discover the bed was cat-sized, the toy was a cat climbing tower, and every treat bag had a cartoon cat face printed on it.

For the first time, I saw genuine disbelief in a dog's eyes.

The Beagle charged at the bags, trying to rip them open with its teeth. I stepped forward and shoved it aside with my knee.

After two or three rounds of this, it collapsed on the floor howling in fury.

I locked it in the crate, grabbed a handful of cat treat sticks, and headed out.

I made the rounds of the neighborhood strays, handing out treats like flyers, asking them to spread the word for me.

This was another move the on-screen comments had suggested.

“Hey, kitties. I need you to find someone for me. Your boss cat.”

“I want to hire him. Food, water, full benefits, plus one free dog to take his frustrations out on.”

By that same afternoon, I heard the clang of a glass bottle smacking against the front door.

I opened it and there he was: the infamous Bruiser, the terror of the entire gated community, dragging a glass bottle behind him as he strolled up.

I stepped aside and let him in.

Then I opened the pet room I'd set up just for him.

“Your Majesty Bruiser, I'm hiring you to beat up a dog.”

“Unlimited treat sticks and canned food, plus full-service grooming at a professional pet salon.”

Bruiser looked satisfied. He dragged his glass bottle across my foot in approval.

A tabby, only slightly smaller than the Beagle, but built like a tank—every inch imposing.

The Beagle's world collapsed.

Its whining shrank from loud wails to terrified, high-pitched keening.

I opened the crate door.

Then I pulled up the grooming salon link Sidney had sent me.

I picked one of the shops, called them, and loaded the prepaid card online.

I told the shop owner: if anyone calls asking about the card, tell them the money was loaded for a pet dog.

Once everything was done that night, I sent Sidney the screenshot：

【This place looks great. Good reviews too.】

No reply from his end. But the shop owner called me.

【Miss Sanchez, someone just called asking whether you'd loaded the card. Is that someone you know?】

Couldn't even wait, could he.

【Someone I know. Also someone with bad intentions.】

【Ignore him.】

The Beagle's cries had gone quiet by now. I put my phone away and settled in to admire Bruiser's handiwork.

His Majesty was perched on the cat tower, rubbing a paw, then nibbled a few more bites of kibble. Only when he'd had his fill did he allow the Beagle anywhere near the bowl.

The Beagle was terrified of him, but the sight of the picked-over food still drew it forward, one trembling step at a time.

In Bruiser's eyes, that hesitant approach was pure insolence.

He lifted a paw and slapped the dog across the face. Again. And again.

Thwack, thwack——

After a few solid hits the Beagle's eyes nearly rolled back in its head. It took a long moment to recover, then staggered forward and face-planted into the food bowl.

The on-screen comments were losing it.

【The illegitimate daughter is absolutely losing her mind. She never dreamed she'd get beaten up by a cat AND be forced to eat its leftovers.】

【This is SO satisfying. Schemes backfiring on the schemer is the best kind of karma. Why should anyone have to give up everything they have for someone like her?】

I nodded.

But this was only step one.

The ones trying to hurt me and my mother weren't just this dog. There were people too.

If they loved their precious child so much, they could spend their own money on her.