She Is My Wife!

Henry was shocked. His phone was on loudspeaker. He quickly turned to Fulvia, only to see that she was already fast asleep, leaning gently against the car window. He hurriedly silenced the phone, trying not to wake her.

“Mum, do you want Dad to lose a big deal? Do you even know how much Mr Kingsley offered just to have his daughter married?” Henry said, trying to reason with his mother.

“So you really went ahead and got married?” she hissed. “Now tell me, how am I supposed to show my face among my friends? How do I explain that my son married an ugly lady, or should I say, a monster? And don’t tell me you’re planning not to give me a grandson soon,” Mrs Williams snapped with disgust.

“Mum, relax. I’ll find a solution,” Henry replied, rubbing his forehead. “You know how stubborn your husband can be. If I don’t marry Mr Kingsley’s daughter, it’ll cause a serious problem between me and Dad.”

The call was still connected.

“Oh really? And what does that have to do with me? Whether your father is stubborn or not, don’t involve me! And let me warn you—don’t you dare announce that girl to the public. Or just forget I’m your mother!” Mrs Williams snapped, her voice sharp.

“Mum, I said relax. Hello? Hello?” Henry looked at his phone and sighed. The call had been disconnected.

“Sir, we are home,” the driver said.

“Put her luggage in the guest room. And find a way to carry her inside,” Henry said, stepping out of the car.

The driver was stunned. “Sir, you mean I should carry her? She’s too big for me, I can’t…”

“Say one more word, and I’ll dock your salary,” Henry warned coldly, looking at the driver through the car window. Without another word, he walked into the mansion.

“Welcome, young master,” the servants greeted. One of the maids followed closely behind him, watching his footsteps carefully. She bent down and removed his shoes. Another maid quickly replaced them with indoor slippers.

Henry said nothing and made his way upstairs toward his room.

Outside, the driver grunted and muttered under his breath while dragging Fulvia from the car. As he carried her with effort, he mumbled angrily, “Am I the one who got married? Why am I the one carrying a woman four times bigger than a pig?” Still half-asleep, Fulvia didn’t move. He dropped her roughly on the living room sofa.

The maids nearby gathered, whispering and gossiping.

“Who is she?”

“Why is she sleeping like she owns the house?”

“She hasn’t even moved since they arrived…”

Thirty minutes later…

The head maid, Barachelle, entered the living room.

“Who is this?” she asked, scanning Fulvia with narrowed eyes.

No one responded.

“Someone bring me a bucket of water. Now!” Barachelle barked.

Moments later, a maid rushed in with a bucket.

“Pour it on her,” Barachelle ordered.

The maid hesitated, then obeyed. A splash followed.

Fulvia gasped and sprang up, confused. “W-where am I? Why… why am I soaked? I was in the car just now, wasn’t I? But this feels like a sofa…” she said, her hands moving around to confirm what she felt.

The maids burst into laughter.

Barachelle stormed forward, grabbed Fulvia’s chin, lifted her head, and shoved her to the floor.

Fulvia groaned slightly, trying to make sense of what was happening. She moved her hands forward, blindly searching the floor for support.

“Oh, so you’re blind,” Barachelle sneered. “Just a blind fool and an ugly monster! Don’t think being blind makes you any different from the rest of the maids.”

“What do you mean?” Fulvia’s voice trembled. “Where am I? Someone tell me! Henry… Henry…” she called out again and again.

Smack!

A sharp slap landed on her cheek from a maid.

“Who do you think you are, calling the young master by his name?” the maid yelled. “Do you have a death wish? You must be the new maid, right? Then act like one! I’m your master—be obedient!”

Fulvia, trembling, touched her stinging cheek. “N-no… I’m not a maid… I’m Henry’s wife.”

Laughter exploded again.

One maid scoffed, “Why would our handsome young master marry a beast like you?”

“Silence!” Barachelle shouted. She yanked Fulvia’s head up again. “You dare say you’re the young master’s wife? You think you can impersonate her?”

She raised her hand, ready to slap Fulvia again.

“What is going on here?!” Henry’s voice boomed across the hall.

All the maids fell to their knees, except Barachelle. She straightened up and approached Henry, wearing a forced smile.

“Young master, I was only teaching the new maid the rules. She was pretending to be your wife and even had the nerve to call you by name. I had to put her in place....”

“Barachelle, get straight to the point,” Henry snapped. “How exactly did you teach her a lesson?”

Barachelle smiled sweetly. “Should I show you? I can demonstrate on her again—”

“Who?” Henry’s eyes narrowed.

“The fat, stubborn pig,” she replied coldly.

Henry moved closer and slapped Barachelle hard.

Smack!

“Now tell me clearly, what exactly did you do to her?” he thundered.

Barachelle, stunned and embarrassed, dropped to her knees. “I-I’m sorry, young master. I slapped her… and poured water on her… just to satisfy you.”

Henry’s voice echoed across the mansion. “Shut up! Do you even know who she is? Do you know who you’re speaking to?! She is my wife! The lady of this mansion. The same respect you show me, you will give to her!”

He pointed at two maids. “You and you, slap Barachelle until she admits what she did wrong.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied. One held Barachelle still while the other began slapping her.

Henry walked over to Fulvia and gently lifted her up.

He turned to another maid. “Get the first aid box. Now.”

“Young master, I’m sorry! Please forgive me! Have mercy on this old woman!” Barachelle cried from the floor.

A few minutes later…

The maid who had gone to get the first aid box was walking past the kitchen—

When suddenly, another maid from the kitchen grabbed her by the arm.