Second Wife From the Brothel

"I want to buy her!" Madam, who was busy counting rupiah, suddenly fell silent, looking back and forth between Monica and Nathan. The man's handsome face looked cold; without preamble, he threw several stacks of money onto the table, making Madam's eyes widen even more. Monica's charm was extraordinary; a handsome man like Nathan could bow down to her allure, Madam thought. "Sir, please read the rules listed here!" Madam handed a green folder to Nathan. "It is stated here as an absolute decision that all the women here cannot be bought. If you still want her, it's not a problem; can't you come back to this place anytime?" Nathan still looked flatly; he wasn't interested in the trashy rules that he thought were illogical. Boldly, his muscular hand ripped the paper, shocking everyone there. His cold gaze seemed ready to pounce on Madam. He hated rejection; he disliked protests in any form. "Hey! What are you doing? I've been trying to respect you because you are a client here, but t

In front of the room, many people were waiting anxiously. The atmosphere was truly tense, until finally all eyes were on Monica and Nathan, who had just arrived. "Brother, how is Mother?" Nathan asked bitterly. A man much older than him looked at him and tried to hold back his own sadness. "Calm down! We are all still waiting for the doctor's statement now," he replied, patting Nathan's shoulder slowly with one hand. Monica now looked more relaxed, though a little nervous, while two women not far from her looked at her cynically. "Arini, you've really recovered?" Nathan looked at his confused wife, grasped her soft fingers, and then smiled at the two women. "But just yesterday I saw you lying sick like a dead person. Isn't it too soon for you to be standing in front of all of us now?" Ambar made him a little scared. What if Monica knew a lot about his secret? "Ambar, please focus on Mother's condition now!" Everyone now fell silent, along with the room door that was opening.

Her fingers twitched, followed by eyes that slowly opened to scan her surroundings; she was looking at a sterile white room again after becoming Nathan's wife. How foolish of her to look weak in front of an arrogant man like Nathan; she should have been able to control herself. The memory of Nathan snapping at her should have been trivial, yet it was Budi's face that flashed before her—the only difference was that Nathan didn't bring a whip, or perhaps, not yet. That was why she never wanted to get to know men further, fearing her fate would only worsen in their hands."I'm certain there is someone else besides him in that place," she thought to herself. She couldn't even see the state of the world outside, as the closed curtains blocked her view. Slowly, she sat up and pulled out the IV needle from the back of her hand; after all, she wasn't gravely ill. As she pulled back the curtains with both hands, she saw that the sky had already turned dark. Just as she stood up, Nathan's barit

“I think I have to go to Nathan’s house tonight. It’s impossible to just keep ordering fast food. Or should I hire a private chef for the house? Or maybe I’ll just ask one of the servants from that house to stay here; I think there are too many of them over there anyway,” she murmured to herself.Monica got ready, applying minimal makeup before grabbing the slim device she never let go of. The car she ordered was already waiting in the courtyard. Since she couldn't drive yet, her private car sat idle in the garage. Along the way, she tried to restrain herself from smoking, chewing on several candies to distract from her bad habit, considering smoking might be prohibited inside the vehicle.Before long, the car stopped in front of the gate of Nathan’s luxurious mansion, a building she rarely visited. Her long legs led her inside as the gates swung wide open to welcome her. The beautiful woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Arini, no longer felt hesitant. She entered without feeli

The dark sky was somewhat captivating, drawing those two eyes to focus on a single direction even though not a glimmer of light was visible on the horizon. The upper balcony was swept by winds as cold as snow, yet the girl remained still, standing there while tightening her thick clothing."Mother, I do not know what you look like. Perhaps I will only feel longing without ever meeting you. They say you were soft-hearted, gentle in speech, a patient and obedient person".Unconsciously, the corners of her eyes grew damp. For the umpteenth time, she felt weak whenever she remembered her mother—especially when bitter memories replayed like an old film full of suffering. A little girl for whom even playing felt like committing a great sin; so many wounds she had to heal on her own, receiving looks of pity and compassion from the neighbors.The man who should have protected her and been her first love instead accused her of being a murderer and a bringer of bad luck. A cursed child who thre