I Married the Devil by Choice

I was exhausted after a full day of work. So, I accidentally yawned when we were having sex. My husband, Lewis Maxwell, instantly stopped mid-movement. Something had set him off. His eyes turned bloodshot as he yanked me upright.

"What's that supposed to mean? Can I not satisfy you? Is that it? Are you not interested in me anymore?"

His fists came raining down on me before I could answer, slamming into my stomach.

He didn't stop until I was coughing up blood, curled up on the bed and twitching like a dying dog.

He spat at me, panting, "You're worthless trash. I could beat you to death, and it wouldn't cost me a thing. If you go behind my back and have dinner with another man again, I'll break your legs."

The immense pain left me unable to speak, let alone fight back. I did nothing as Lewis tore off my clothes and pinned me beneath him.

However, my blood-stained lips curled up into a vicious smile away from his line of sight.

In the past, it took the barest physical contact with another man to send him into a violent rage. Now, all I had to do was have dinner with a male client, or even just say a few words to one, and it would set him right off.

He was becoming more and more dependent on me, terrified that I would leave. After all, who else but me could put up with three years of abuse, yet still stay behind like an obedient dog and take care of him?

"Are you hungry? I'll make you some noodles."

Only after he was done with me did I recover enough strength to move. Then, I dragged my limp body into the kitchen to prepare his late-night meal as usual.

This time, I added another sentence.

"This is the last bowl I'll ever make for you. Once you finish it, let's get a divorce."

Lewis froze upon hearing my words. Then, he gave a cold, sinister sneer. "Divorce? Didn't I tell you already? The only way you're ever leaving me is by dying."

What happened next played out just as I expected; he beat me so badly that I ended up in the ICU again.

The last time it happened, he had learned that I'd gone to a bar with a client and hadn't returned home til late at night despite my pregnancy. So, he suspected the baby wasn't his. He grabbed me by the throat and broke more than a dozen of my bones.

The doctor possessed a strong sense of justice. She asked me who had done this to me and insisted on calling the police.

At the same time, my coworkers also rose to defend me, bolstering my courage and promising they would protect me from Lewis.

However, I stuck to my story, saying that I had fallen. I even insisted that Lewis had nothing to do with it.

This time, my injuries were even worse.

The doctor's daughter had just gotten married a few states over. So, she was heartbroken at the sight of my sorry state.

"Amelia, stop lying to me. There's no way you got these injuries from a bad fall. We live in a society governed by the law. The law will protect you. The police will only be able to punish the scum who did this to you if you tell them the truth!"

I met her earnest gaze, and promptly doused her righteousness. I scoffed and shook my head.

"Do you even know me? Why are you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?"

The doctor clenched her fists upon hearing my words. She became so disappointed by my choices that she walked away and had me reassigned to a different doctor.

Only when I noticed Lewis loosen his grip on the butterfly knife clenched in his hand did I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Lewis was capable of committing any crimes just to keep me locked by his side. If that doctor had really called the cops on him, he might have killed her on the spot, which was exactly why I wanted so badly to know what he would become once he lost me.

I couldn't resist a tremor of excitement running through me as I thought of that not-so-far future.