บททั้งหมดของ THE WIFE YOU LEFT: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

AVERY’S POV:The moment the door slammed shut behind him, I exhaled the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. It was as if every ounce of air had been trapped in my lungs since the moment I was dragged into that cold, soulless room. My body trembled, my chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow gasps. And then, I broke. Tears spilled over, hot and relentless, streaking down my face as I crumbled. The strong exterior I had painstakingly constructed in front of Axel shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. My hands shook, and my shoulders sagged as the weight of everything I had endured pressed down on me. Yet, through the sobs that racked my body, I felt a sliver of pride. I hadn’t let him see this. I fought to keep my head high in front of Axel because breaking down in front of him was a defeat I couldn’t afford. It was a vow I had made to myself the moment I became his prisoner: "Don’t let him see you break. Don’t let him see you weak." And even though I was crumblin

AXEL’S POV:Chase’s hand hovered awkwardly in the space between us for a moment longer, his smile faltering. He didn’t retract it right away, as though hoping I’d reconsider, but I didn’t. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest and said, "I don’t do handshakes." The words came out like steel, cutting clean through the fake pleasantries he’d tried to establish. His face flushed slightly before he tucked his hand into his pocket, attempting to hide the embarrassment that even his demeanor couldn’t mask. Recovering quickly, he cleared his throat and gestured to the couple standing behind him. "Allow me to introduce you to my parents." His mother stepped forward first, her smile wide and artificial, as though it had been practiced in the mirror before this meeting. She gave a small, excited wave, punctuated by a giggle that grated on my nerves. "Hello, Mr. Blackwood!" she chirped. "It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. Chase has told us so much about you!" Her overly eage

AXEL’S POV:The Manhattan docks reeked of salt, rust, and a thin veil of danger that no amount of floodlights could dispel. My boots clicked against the worn concrete as I stepped off the private pier, the chill of the night cutting through the black wool of my coat. Four grueling hours of oversight had passed. My team and I had inspected every corner of the seaport, ensuring the perimeter was secure, every guard in place, and all surveillance equipment operational. I never left things to chance. Not there. Not that night. The shipment had finally arrived—three massive cargo ships docked at my Manhattan seaport. That location was a fortress. I controlled the authorities, paid off anyone who mattered, and left the rest too terrified to intervene. No one dared interfere. I stopped at the edge of the docks, letting the scene unfold. The air smelled of salt and iron, a mix of the ocean breeze and the lingering scent of metal containers baking under industrial lights. Three ships, thei

AXEL’S POV:From the moment the door creaked open, humiliation poured in like a flood. They hadn’t just locked me away—they’d stripped me of every shred of dignity, leaving me stark naked and freezing in this damp concrete cell. Axel’s men treated me like a toy, their sickening laughter echoing as they took turns hurling crude comments and vile advances my way. Even now, their eyes raked over my bruised, filthy body with revolting hunger, as if my brokenness made me more desirable. My skin reeked from days without a shower, my teeth unbrushed, my breath stale. I could feel my bladder screaming, the pain sharpening with every second I couldn’t relieve it. I prayed for death—but death didn’t come. And here I was again, cornered by two of them. One grinned as he unzipped his pants, exposing himself like it was a joke. "I don’t know why the boss hasn’t let us have our fun yet," he sneered. "I can’t wait to tear you apart with my big dick." The other, a hulking figure with dreadloc

AXEL’S POV:The door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, revealing a modest bathroom. I clicked the door shut behind me and leaned heavily against it despite the sting in my legs. My chest heaved as I exhaled, eyes darting over the bathroom's simple layout. The tiles were spotless, gleaming under the soft glow of recessed lighting. A simple shower stall stood in the corner, its glass door streak-free. On the counter beside the sink, neatly folded towels and small bottles of shampoo and body wash awaited me, their clean, floral scent a reminder of how desperately I needed them. Stripping off Axel's jacket, I tossed it onto the floor and grabbed the new toothbrush sitting on the counter. For the first time in what felt like days, I allowed myself the luxury of slowness. Each stroke of the toothbrush over my teeth was methodical, each swish of mouthwash a small victory. I even took my time flossing, savoring the strange normalcy of it. The shower beckoned next. Stepping under the