Chapter 3 Rosie's Fake Act

Rosie clung affectionately to Blake's arm and said sweetly, "Melinda, I'm sure you don't mind me here, right?"

Looking at how close they were, I found it almost unbearable to watch.

Blake frowned and said impatiently, "Why should you care what she thinks? If you want to come, you can. Since when does she get a say?"

Suppressing my anger, I reminded him coldly, "Today is our wedding anniversary."

"So what?" Blake sneered, pulling Rosie to sit at the table. "If you don't like it, then leave. No one is forcing you to stay."

His words were like needles piercing my heart.

We had been together for years, yet I still couldn't get a single trace of affection from him in return.

After taking a few bites of the food, Rosie's expression suddenly changed. She covered her mouth and began to retch.

Seeing her reaction, Blake panicked immediately. "What's wrong, Rosie? What happened?"

She weakly pointed at the dishes in front of her and said with a trembling voice. "I'm allergic to peanuts. Melinda, did you put peanut sauce in the food?"

"I didn't!"

I knew this was clearly another act by Rosie. After all, I hadn't used any peanut sauce at all.

"Melinda, how could you do this to me? I know you don't like me, but why would you kill me…"

"Melinda, have you lost your mind?" Blake roared.

He scooped Rosie into his arms and rushed out like a gust of wind.

Late at night, Blake returned home. He yanked me off the bed and dragged me into the living room. When I saw a crate of red wine placed in the center of the room, my heart dropped.

"Blake, what are you doing?" I looked at him in terror, my voice trembling.

He let out a cold laugh and replied, "Melinda, how can you be so vicious? Rosie is so kind, yet you dared to harm her. I'll make you pay for the suffering you caused her."

Before I could react, he shoved me violently to the ground. Then the servants pinned me down tightly. I struggled desperately, but it was useless.

"I didn't harm Rosie! You have to believe me!" I cried out in despair.

"I can't believe you are still making excuses even now!" Blake said as he grabbed a bottle of red wine and roughly pried open my mouth, pouring the liquid in.

"I remember that you are allergic to alcohol."

The wine streamed down from the corners of my mouth. I choked violently and could feel my stomach churning in agony.

I have a severe alcohol allergy. Even a small amount of it could be fatal.

"Please don't. I'll die!" I begged, but it only made him more ruthless. "I never wanted to hurt Rosie. Please believe me…"

The allergic reaction grew stronger, and my body swelled as if inflated, burning with pain. My throat began to swell shut, making it harder to breathe.

I gasped desperately, but the air felt thinner and thinner. At the same time, darkness crept into my vision.

In agony, I looked at Blake and tried to beg him to stop.

But the moment I opened my mouth, I erupted into violent coughing. My stomach churned, and I could not hold it back.

I vomited.

When the mess stained his hands, he flung me aside in disgust.

"You're disgusting!" He slapped me twice, making my head spin and my ears ring.

Soon, more and more red patches spread across my body, merging into terrifying rashes. I felt like a fish thrown onto land, struggling on the brink of death.

However, Blake only looked at me coldly and said, "It hurts, doesn't it? Rosie felt the same just now!"

Then, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "I thought you were good at taking care of people. Why couldn't you take care of your sister?"

I looked at him in despair. Memories of his past tenderness flashed through my mind like a carousel.

When I was young and bullied, hiding in a corner and crying, it was Blake who handed me a lollipop and comforted me.

"Melinda, don't cry. If you eat candy, it won't hurt anymore." Then he went and fought off the people who had bullied me.

But that boy who had once treated me so gently had personally pushed me into hell.

When Blake finally grew tired of forcing wine down my throat, he grabbed my hair.