Semua Bab CLAIMED BY MY EX-HUSBAND'S SADISTIC BOSS: Bab 1 - Bab 10

DELLAThe freezing deluge had long since turned my white linen dress translucent, plastering the thin fabric to my ribs and the surgical scar winding down my right hip.The modest, high-collared piece I'd chosen specifically to satisfy my mother-in-law Mireille's rigid standards for "appropriate naval spousal attire" was completely ruined.My teeth clicked violently together. Every breath felt like inhaling crushed glass, yet my numb, bloodless fingers refused to slacken their grip on the heavy canvas garment bag.I hunched my shoulders, curving my spine to form a human canopy over the bag.Not a single drop was allowed to touch his uniform, even as my own blood turned to slush."I've already told you, miss," the gate guard said from the dry warmth of his glass booth. "Civilians aren't permitted past the perimeter without prior clearance logged in the system. Recruits don't get visitors on non-visiting days."He didn't bother looking up from his terminal, though his eyes had already ra

DELLAThe bus ride back to Thornfield was a slow, agonizing descent into hell.I sat near the rear, squeezed into the corner seat by the fogged glass, clutching the Admiral's umbrella across my lap like a weapon.The radiator beneath my seat hissed violently, blowing dry, stale heat over my bare, waterlogged legs, but it did nothing to warm the ice settled deep inside my bones.My thin white linen dress, still saturated and clinging like a cold second skin, left almost nothing to the imagination.Water dripped steadily from my hem, forming a puddle around my bare ankles.The fabric clung to every curve, every scar, every vulnerable inch of my body.Every eye on the crowded bus was fixed on me.The men stared with undisguised hunger, their eyes lingering over the translucent fabric plastered to my waist, my chest, the faint outline of my undergarments.One man in a business suit didn't even bother hiding his interest, leaning forward in his seat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

DELLAThe sharp buzz of my mobile phone cut through the stifling quiet of the annex just past one in the afternoon.I didn't need to check the display. Only one person called with such rigid, demanding punctuality.It had been barely four hours since Mireille had delivered her cruel monologue in the kitchen and walked out."Hayes is bringing the car around to the annex." Mireille's voice came through the speaker before I could even part my lips, smooth and entirely unbothered. "Be outside in ten minutes. That silk you ruined yesterday was bespoke, and it cost a small fortune. Now we have to waste an entire afternoon sourcing a gown for an anniversary dinner you threw a tantrum over."I sat on the edge of the mattress, picking at a loose thread on my oversized shirt.Mireille made it sound so effortless, twisting the entire miserable event around until I was the only villain in the room.I stared at the red end-call button on the screen. I wanted nothing more than to hang up, but the su

DELLAThe heavy diamond on Mireille's ring caught the high crest of my cheekbone, splitting the delicate brown skin.My head snapped sideways.Pippin let out a frightened yowl, burrowing deeper into the folds of my coat.The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant murmur of the ocean tide.A trickle of warm crimson traced down my cheek, dripping slowly onto my dark collar. My skin stung violently, radiating heat.I didn't lift a hand to touch it.Instead, a quiet, breathless sound escaped my throat. A trembling laugh. Then another. Tears spilled over my lashes, mixing with the blood on my skin."Delphine... you've lost your mind." Mireille stepped back with a sudden, unnerved flutter of genuine fear."No. I've just finally seen you clearly." A bitter, soul-crushing grief washed over me.I wiped the blood from my cheek, my hazel eyes blazing.Every instinct in my body screamed at me to turn around and walk away into the fog. To carry Pippin down the highway and

DELLAThe Mercedes barely came to a full halt on the drive behind the annex before I pushed the door open.I gathered Pippin into my arms, wrapped securely in the wool blanket, and walked away without looking back at Mireille.The car engine died behind me, but no footstep followed. Mireille remained seated behind the wheel, staring straight ahead like a pale statue, paralyzed by the sudden collapse of five years of carefully manufactured control.The annex greeted me with its customary damp chill.I laid Pippin down in the center of the sofa, watching him curl into a frail, trembling crescent on the rough linen cushions.He buried his nose beneath his paws, too exhausted to groom the road grit from his coat.My hands shook so violently I could barely turn the brass handle of the hall closet.I dragged out an old leather trunk and a battered weekend duffel—both remnants from my university dorm days, the only luggage I owned that hadn't been bought with Whitmore checks.I threw them op