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Chapter 10
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My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Chapter 10
In the visitation room, Annie and I sat on one side of the glass. Hudson sat across from us, held in place by two police officers.He glanced at Annie, her head wrapped in bandages, then looked at me with a twisted excitement. "Well, if this isn't the great tattoo artist, Luther! Wait, who's that beside you? It's not Ms. Sylvester, is it?"He burst into laughter. "What's wrong? Too disfigured to show your face now? Do you feel like hiding from the world, too ashamed to face the light?"Annie ignored his taunts and picked up the phone. "Your sister, Mona Brown, is a finance student at Seafield University, right? Top of her class, scholarship every year—your greatest pride."The smile froze on Hudson's face. A sense of dread crept in. "W-What are you trying to do? This has nothing to do with her!""It didn't," Annie said coldly. "But the money you used to pay her tuition, rent her luxury apartment, and buy her designer bags was all embezzled from my company."She continued, "I've a
My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Chapter 9
Just like that, two months passed.One day, a heavily scarred Hudson stormed into the rehabilitation center, holding a bottle of liquid. The moment his eyes landed on me, they burned with insane hatred."You…" he seethed. "This is all your fault! You made me the way I am today! Go to hell!"He twisted the cap off the bottle and hurled the corrosive liquid toward my face. It happened so fast I didn't even have time to flinch, let alone dodge. At the last possible second, a figure lunged in front of me, shielding me like a mother bear. The sound of acid hitting flesh sent a chill up my spine.The entire contents of the bottle splashed over Annie's head. She let out a blood-curdling scream, then collapsed.No sooner had she fallen than Hudson was restrained by the arriving security guards. He looked at her, melting and screaming, then glanced at me—untouched—and laughed berserkly."You fucking deserve this, Annie, you bitch! Justice is finally served!"I stood where I was, watch
My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Chapter 8
In a remote mountain region so isolated it didn't even appear on maps, Annie rushed through the night and finally found me at a small-town burn rehabilitation center.Indeed, I was still alive. After being abandoned on the cliff that day, I woke up.The system told me there was a bug in the storyline. Apparently, the causal chain hadn't completed its cycle, and therefore, I couldn't return to the original world yet.For a good hour, I cursed the system to pieces.Thankfully, an old farmer gathering herbs in the middle of the night had stumbled across me. If he hadn't, the wolves really would have finished the job. I was holding a color chart, calmly teaching a girl, whose face had been scarred by fire, how to paint a beautiful red flower on her cheek. Sunlight streamed through the window, warm and peaceful.The next second, Annie appeared in the doorway, blocking the sunlight. Her eyes were bloodshot as she stared desperately at me."Luther, I'm so sorry… It was all my fault! I
My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Chapter 7
Annie took a step back and commanded the bodyguards behind her, "Do it."Two new bodyguards stepped forward, each grabbing one of Hudson's arms and twisting with all their strength. A sickening crack echoed through the basement as he screamed.But this was only the beginning."Now, his legs," Annie added coldly. "Break them, too."The basement was filled with Hudson's agonized cries as the guards carried out her orders, but she remained unsatisfied. Later, she hired a private doctor at great expense, giving him only one task—ensure Hudson stayed alive to feel it all. Each time Hudson's injuries began to heal, the bodyguards would twist them again. Then, the doctor would mend them, only for the cycle to restart.The torment of seeing a glimmer of hope only to have it crushed back into despair was far worse than a quick death. The stun baton that had once been used on me was also brought out. Annie held it and approached him.The once-attractive man now cowered in the corner, b
My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Chapter 6
Annie's balance failed her, the color draining from her face in an instant. That familiar red birthmark at the waist, the man who flatlined at the charity gala… She had kept convincing herself it couldn't have been me.She bolted out of the studio like a woman possessed and tracked down the person in charge of the event. She grabbed him by the collar and shrieked, "The tattoo model on stage that day—where is he?"The person in charge froze, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Ms. Sylvester, who are you talking about? You mean the one who died? He flatlined right there. His family never showed up, and I have no idea where they took his body."Flatlined… Body taken away…Annie collapsed to the floor, her strength vanishing as if the world itself had been ripped out from under her. That model had been me.She had watched her husband tortured to death under the guise of "art" in front of a global audience. And what had she done? She had sat in the front row, clapping and praisi
My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Chapter 5
My soul hovered in mid-air, staring blankly at the chaos unfolding on the stage.The live stream was cut off abruptly. Medics rushed up, frantically shocking my body and performing CPR.In the audience, Annie's smile froze. Her eyes were fixed on the flat line on the monitor. A sudden, inexplicable panic gripped her, and she instinctively took a step forward to see for herself.Hudson caught her just in time. He feigned calmness, teasing her gently. "Don't go over there, Annie. It's too bloody; it's only upset you. Besides, he's just a model. The doctors know what they're doing."He leaned close, his warm breath brushing her ear. "I'm hungry. How about we go to your favorite love hotel? I've booked us a room."Annie's steps faltered. She glanced at the medics hustling on stage, then back at Hudson's irresistible face.Right. It was just a model she didn't know. Even if he died, it was a death with meaning—a sacrifice for the sake of art.The unease inside her faded, smothered by
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