Humiliated

Josephine's POV

“You can retire for the day,” I told the maids as I entered the kitchen. “Your work here is done.”

They shared confused looks among themselves before Beatrice walked up to me.

“We are yet to prepare dinner for the boss. Or isn't he coming home tonight?” She asked, and I smiled.

“Don't worry. I will take care of it,” I replied, to which she raised a brow but nodded regardless as the other maids began to leave.

It had been a week since my miscarriage and three days after my discharge from the hospital. Earlier today, Francesco sent a text, informing me that he was coming home tonight and to make his favourite dish.

The nerve of that cheating scumbag.

While I was bleeding, Francesco was making love to his mistress without a care in the world.

If I had died, he would have probably thrown a party with April to celebrate my exit from their lives, yet he had the audacity to ask me to make him food.

“Goodnight, ma'am,” They said.

“Goodnight, everyone.” I replied, until Beatrice and I were the only ones left in the kitchen.

Ever since I returned home, Beatrice had been treating me like I was made of glass, even though she didn't know that I had lost my pregnancy.

She wouldn't even allow me to dish my own food, talk less of leave the house.

Beatrice had blamed herself for not being there and had vowed to never go for another weekend leave.

If only she knew that I was probably not going to be there for another weekend.

As much as I was grateful that I had someone to look out for me, I found it somewhat overbearing because it made me seem even more pathetic than I already was.

“How are you feeling, ma'am?” She asked.

“Very good, thanks,” I managed a smile which she saw right through.

“Please don't hesitate to let me know if you need my help,” She said. “I may not have much but I'll help you with the little I have.”

“It's fine, Beatrice. I can take care of myself, I promise,” I replied. “Now go, I want to cook for my husband.”

The last two words made my mouth bitter like bile but I repressed the urge to grimace.

“Alright, ma'am. Goodnight then and please stay safe.” She said, to which I nodded.

“I will. Goodnight.”

Thereafter, she left the house and I headed upstairs to grab the envelope containing the divorce papers I intended to give Francesco tonight, alongside a pen.

I would rather mop the whole Los Angeles than to continue being his wife.

I didn't mind sleeping on the streets until I could find a job as long as I wasn't married to him anymore.

He was a despicable beast and a vile creature.

I wondered why I had been so foolish and spineless for such a long time.

Consoling myself with the thought that my suffering would end tonight, I removed the divorce agreement, placed in a clean dish with the pen and covered it.

Soon enough, the doorbell rang, signalling me that the bane of my existence had arrived.

“I heard from Dr Derek that you lost my babies,” Francesco snarled, as I placed the dish on the dining table. “You are just too fucking useless.”

Repressing the urge to utter a nasty retort, I pressed my lips into a thin line.

“Welcome home, Francesco,” I said, as he sat on the head of the dining table.

“Save it,” He hurled, opening the dish. “What the fuck is this, Josephine?”

“A divorce agreement,” I replied coolly. “I want out of this marriage. Don't worry, I won't sue you for alimony, I don't need your money. I will do whatever it takes to survive.”

Looking at me, Francesco burst into a peal of hearty laughter as if I just had cracked the funniest joke in the universe.

Clutching my hands together, I kept calm amd watched as he grabbed the pen and set it down again.

Looking into my eyes, he took the divorce agreement and tore it before flinging the torn papers at me, as he threw me a glare.

“I brought you into this house and I decide when the hell you leave, okay?” He spat, banging the table, which made me shiver in trepidation as I looked at his cold, grey eyes.

If care wasn't taken, something worse than a miscarriage could really happen to me in that house.

Inching backward, I swallowed harshly as he walked menacingly toward me, his gaze fixated on my boobs.

“W-What are you doing?” I stuttered, as my back hit the sofa.

“I want you to take off your clothes and suck me off right now,” He spat, and my heart sank.

“N-No, I don't want to,” I retorted, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“We both know that you don't want me to repeat myself, Josephine,” Francesco replied. “I should punish you for losing my children but I want to please you instead and you have the effrontery to refuse me, you stupid bitch!”

How was asking me to suck him off for my own pleasure? I thought silently.

Knowing Francesco, he could do something cruel to me in that moment, so I quickly took off my clothes and knelt in front of him.

With shaky hands and a bleeding heart, I undid his pants and his cock sprang out. I had barely wrapped my hand around it when he forced himself into my mouth, grinning sinisterly as I choked and fought for air.

“Tell me having my cock in your mouth doesn't make you wet,” He hurled. “You look like you were made to do nothing but suck my cock like the whore that you are.”

I stopped fighting for air and resigned to fate as Francesco treated my throat like a sex toy.

Truth be told, that was all he probably saw me for; a sex toy and a baby factory.

“Fuck, I can't waste my cum in your throat,” Francesco gritted out, snatching himself out of my mouth.

Before I could blink, he dragged me off the floor, bent me against the floor and buried himself inside me, letting out a satisfied groan as he pounded me mercilessly.

I squeezed my eyes shut as he fucked me, too tired to even fight him which made me wonder if I was ever going to make it out of here alive.

“At least you're good for sex since your womb is basically useless,” Francesco growled, as he emptied his cum inside me.

His utterance made my heart break but what hurt the most was that I could do nothing but cry silently, as I slumped to the floor, his cum trickling out of me.

“Useless thing,” He spat before storming upstairs.

Moments later, I dragged myself upstairs and scrubbed his dirty hands and fluid off me, before grabbing another copy of the divorce agreement and taking it to his bedroom.

I had made three copies using the printer in Francesco’s study earlier today, as if I knew he would tear it up.

“You are really asking for my wrath,” Francesco spat, as he walked out of the bathroom with a towel covering his lower half.

“I-I want a divorce, Francesco. Please let me go,” I cried, and he scoffed before snatching the second copy and tearing it.

Thereafter, Francesco grabbed my jaw forcefully, causing me to whimper.

“You will leave this marriage when I want you to,” He whispered before letting me go. “Now get out of my sight, you filthy ingrate.”

Staggering out of his bedroom, I cried all the way to mine. The tears didn't stop until I finally fell asleep.

+

I woke up determined to leave Francesco’s mansion that very day.

On checking his bedroom and study, I realized he was out again which filled me with temporary relief. As my eyes roamed about the study, a thought occured to me.

I could use Francesco’s stamp to authorize the divorce papers.

Checking his table, I didn't find his stamp but I saw his seal which made me hopeful. I ran to and fro my bedroom to grab the last divorce agreement within a minute. That was how desperate I was to leave Francesco.

After using his seal on the required areas, I heaved a sign of relief before rushing out to my belongings as well as the envelope containing the divorce agreement into a small bag.

My intention was to mail the divorce agreement on my way out.

Thereafter, I sneaked away through the backdoor as I didn't want to tell the maids anything because it would only cause me to cry.

Giving Francesco’s estate a final look, I walked out of the gate. After mailing the divorce papers at the post office, I continued on my path.

As I sauntered past the bus stop, I saw a restaurant, with a vacancy sign plastered on a signboard, which instantly drew my attention.

“Dishwashers needed. Apply within.” The sign read, and I was instantly filled with hope.

Dishwashing was easy. I could do it.

Heading inside the restaurant, I saw a burly man who had an apron tied around his waist.

“Good day, sir.” I greeted him, and he gruffed.

“Are you here for the job?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. You are hired and are to start work immediately.” He replied, which took me by surprise.

Regardless, I was relieved I now had a job.

“Yes, sir.” I replied.