บททั้งหมดของ The Rejected Wife's Secret Empire: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

"And if you dare speak a single word, or drop a single drop of dirty blood on their expensive carpets, I will make sure your mother is permanently transferred to a public ward before dessert is even served."Aryan swallowed the thick, bitter lump of pure terror forming in his raw throat. He put the heavy Bentley into drive. The journey to the Royal Orchid Country Club was an agonizing, humiliating blur. The automatic air conditioning blasted icy air onto his entirely soaked uniform. He was shivering so violently that his knees knocked against the plastic casing under the steering wheel. The cheap, wet gauze wrapped tightly around his torn palms constantly rubbed against the leather, sending fresh, blinding spikes of nerve pain shooting up his numb forearms.He didn't care about the physical pain anymore. The psychological dread of facing his inner circle as a bleeding servant was entirely paralyzing.As the Bentley rolled up the pristine, pebble-paved driveway toward the massive colon

He stood there, a broken human table, silently bleeding onto the pristine floor, completely and utterly abandoned by the entire world.The minutes stretched into an agonizing, never-ending eternity. Every single second that ticked by was a fresh, excruciating lesson in absolute human endurance. The heavy silver bucket felt like it was filled with solid lead. The freezing condensation rapidly soaked through his cheap, thin uniform shirt, violently chilling his heavily bruised ribs and plunging his core body temperature back into a dangerously hypothermic state. His severely infected, torn palms were pressed flush against the freezing metal. The icy surface aggressively bit into his raw, healing flesh, sending violent, white-hot shocks of pure nerve pain shooting directly up his numb arms and into his throbbing neck. He was violently shaking, his teeth chattering so loudly he desperately tried to clamp his jaw shut, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood.At the table, the three men

The darkness didn't just pull him under this time; it violently shattered him into a million broken pieces.A sharp, deafening ringing echoed endlessly in his ears, completely drowning out the loud hiss of the deflating airbag and the furious blaring of the Bentley's horn. Thick, acrid white smoke filled the freezing cabin, stinging his raw nose and throat. He was trapped in a suffocating, terrifying limbo, unable to open his bruised eyes, unable to move a single paralyzed muscle.Then, the heavy driver's side door was violently ripped open.Rough, heavy hands grabbed him by the soaked collar of his ruined uniform, aggressively dragging his dead weight out of the crushed front seat. He hit the cold, hard gravel of the driveway with a brutal, sickening thud, sending a catastrophic wave of absolute agony tearing directly through his ribs. The sharp, blinding pain forcefully snapped his heavy eyelids open. He gasped wetly, tasting dirty ash and thick, fresh blood."You useless, pathetic

He was four point five crores in debt. He was physically chained to a rusted pipe. He had exactly one functioning hand. And tomorrow, his real hell was finally going to begin.The suffocating darkness of the basement offered no mercy. Aryan did not sleep. He couldn't. Every single time he closed his heavily bruised eyes, the excruciating, white-hot agony radiating from his violently shattered left arm jerked him back to a terrifying consciousness. The crude, heavy duct tape painfully cut off the circulation to his swollen fingers, while the heavy iron cuff clamped tightly around his right ankle aggressively bit into his raw skin every time he shivered. The damp, freezing concrete had completely stolen his core body heat. He spent the agonizing night curled into a pathetic, trembling ball, his teeth violently chattering, his bloodshot eyes staring blindly at the filthy puddle of leaking boiler water.When the heavy metal door at the top of the stairs finally crashed open, the sudden, h

He slowly, agonizingly dragged his bleeding, violently shivering body back onto his heavily bruised knees in the wet grass. He ignored the thick wire brush. Instead, he weakly pressed his torn, bloody fingernails directly into the sharp, freezing crevice of the stone, entirely surrendering to his absolute, eternal nightmare.The incredibly sharp, jagged edges of the unforgiving stone aggressively sliced deep into the raw, tender flesh beneath his fingernails. Fresh, bright crimson blood immediately pooled in the microscopic crevices, violently mixing with the freezing dirt and green moss. Every single frantic scrape sent a catastrophic, blinding shockwave of pure, white-hot agony directly up his violently trembling right arm. He could actually feel the fragile nails slowly separating from the nail beds, threatening to rip completely off with the sheer, desperate force he was applying.He did not stop. The terrifying, absolute threat of his mother’s ventilator being brutally unplugged