Chapter Thirty-One
Wanda lay unconscious in the hospital bed, the room filled with the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the quiet hum of the machines keeping her stabilized. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast a pale glow across her face, highlighting her closed eyes and the faint bruises on her neck where Michael's hands had been. Michael sat in a chair beside her, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. His eyes were fixed on her face, a mixture of anger and frustration playing across his features. He had expected to feel relieved seeing her alive and breathing, but instead, a seething bitterness welled up inside him. The memory of their fight replayed in his mind, and instead of feeling guilt, he felt a surge of resentment. “Why do you make everything so difficult, Wanda?” he muttered under his breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Why can’t you just do as you’re toldChapter Thirty-Two **At Anderson’s House…** Agnes paced back and forth in the lavish living room, her mind racing with possibilities. She knew she had to move quickly if she wanted to secure her position and ensure Anderson remained powerless. Now that she had control of his company, she needed to solidify her hold over him in a more personal way—by making him marry her. It was a risk, but Agnes had always thrived on calculated risks. She glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that Anderson would be home soon. She needed to come up with a plan that would leave him with no choice, a scenario that would push him to the brink and force him to take the only option she offered. An idea formed in her mind—a scenario so unexpected, so perfectly crafted, that Anderson would have no way out. When Anderson finally arrived, his face was drawn, his eyes clouded with exhaustion and disbelief from the recent events. He barely acknowledged Agnes as he tossed his keys on the table and collapsed
Wanda Skyes sat on the water closet, her face dulled and worried. "Please, let it be positive this time." She mumbled softly in a cracked voice with her eyes seriously fixed on the pregnancy tube in her hand, impatiently waiting for the result.Wanda's legs were involuntarily shaking as she kept blinking her eyes at the object in her left hand. And soon, it was about time to see the result. She closed her eyes tightly before gradually opening it to see what her fate was."Wanda." A thick loud voice called from the other side of the bathroom door. The voice startled Wanda to the core, almost dropping the tube on the floor. "Shit!" She exclaimed with a fearful tone."Get the hell out here now!" The male voice added. It was Andrew, Wanda's cruel husband. "Wanda, open the damn door right now!" He yelled at the top of his thick voice again, hitting the door continuously."I-i coming..." Wanda stammered, trying to get hold of herself. Her hands were shaking and sweaty. "I will be right outs
Anderson rushed out of his mansion down the street with only his pants and no shirt to cover his upper body. He looked dejected, frustrated, and sad. His hands covered his mouth in great shock as he wandered restlessly.Anderson made a strong fist and screamed, "Fuck!!" Venting out his frustration.Meanwhile, Wanda sat quietly in front of the car along with the stranger. Her face emit brokenness and hopelessness which the man could read easily. He glanced at her slightly. "If I may ..." He asked with a sweaty voice.But Wanda didn't answer. She was lost in thought. Where would she go to right now? She has no one left to run to for help or support, where would she lay her head when the night comes?"Is everything all right, Miss?" The man asked with a curious tone. His eyes fixed on the road ahead but he kept glancing at her stealthy.Wanda was still lost in her thoughts. Tears began to roll down her right eye without her realizing. The man looked worried and soon hit the break and par
Wanda couldn't believe her eyes. What is Micheal doing here at the hotel and why are all these men with him? Or is he a government official? Different thoughts kept roaming her mind."I am sorry, Sir." Wanda apologized, sniffed her nose, and tried to move away from Micheal."Where are you going?" Micheal asked curiously, watching her as she tried to drag her heavy box. "To wherever the world takes me," Wanda answered with a weak tone, dragging her box on the floor.Micheal quickly walked in front of her and blocked her way. "Wait, I know you have nowhere to go. So why don't you ..." Wanda quickly argued, "...why don't you just get out of my way." She spoke almost yelling at Micheal.Micheal raised his hands in a surrender gesture. "Okay!" He said, gesturing his hands for her to make her move.Wanda walked away but halted when she heard something that she never imagined. "Let me help you, Wanda. Spend the night here and I promise to help you find a good home and job." Micheal spoke wi
Wanda began to feel nervous. Her heart beats faster. She could see the mischievous look in Micheal's eyes but she wasn't sure yet what his intentions were. And then finally she summoned the courage to speak. "What proposal if I may ask?" Said Wanda with a blurted voice. Her eyes are white as the snow staring at the man beside her.Micheal bit his lower lips and reached out to a brown envelope. He handed it to Wanda. "Here ..." Wanda froze for a few seconds, her brow arched upwards in curiosity. "What is in there?" She curiously asked with a thin voice.Micheal signaled with his head for her to go ahead and check it out. His eyes fixed on hers, keenly observing her body language.Wanda took the brown envelope and slowly opened it. She brought out some white papers and dropped the envelope on the table beside her. Staring at the paper, Wanda read through the contents with widened eyes, blinking almost twice a second. She raised her head and gave Micheal a blunt look."Is this the prop
Chapter FiveAnderson’s heart pounded in his chest as he burst through the grand doors of St. James Church, the heavy oak slamming against the walls with a resonant thud that echoed through the sacred space. Heads turned, startled gasps rippling through the gathered crowd as he stumbled forward, breath ragged and eyes wild. At the altar, Wanda stood in her pristine white gown, a vision of beauty and sadness all at once. Her fingers were intertwined with Michael’s, the two of them locked in an intimate gaze that made Anderson’s stomach churn. The pastor’s voice droned in the background, a solemn recitation of vows that Anderson could barely hear over the roaring in his ears. And then it happened—the final dagger to his heart. Michael leaned in, his lips brushing against Wanda’s in a soft, deliberate kiss. Anderson felt the air rush out of his lungs as if he had been sucker-punched. Time seemed to slow, the scene playing out in painful slow motion: Wanda’s eyes fluttering shut, her br
Chapter Six The car ride was heavy with silence as Agnes drove Anderson back to his house. The city lights blurred past them, casting fleeting shadows that danced across Anderson’s tense face. He stared out the window, his mind replaying the devastating scene at the church: Wanda, in that beautiful gown, exchanging vows and kisses with another man. Each image was like a fresh wound, stinging and unrelenting. Agnes glanced sideways at him, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. She could feel the anger radiating off of Anderson, his body taut like a coiled spring ready to snap. She wanted to say something—anything—to break the oppressive quiet, but words felt useless against the storm brewing inside him. As they pulled up to Anderson’s mansion, he flung the car door open and stormed out without a word, his steps unsteady on the cobblestone path leading to his front door. Agnes hurried after him, her heels clicking loudly against the stone. “Anderson, wait!” she called out, her v
CHAPTER SEVEN Wanda’s breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the lavish cottage house. The entrance was a breathtaking display of opulence, with tall glass walls that offered a panoramic view of the shimmering Las Vegas skyline. The interior was no less stunning: polished marble floors, modern chandeliers dripping with crystals, and plush furnishings in soft, inviting tones. It was the epitome of luxury, a place designed to impress and indulge. Michael followed closely behind, his hand resting lightly on Wanda’s back as he guided her through the sprawling space. “Welcome to paradise,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction as he watched Wanda’s reaction. She glanced around, her eyes wide with awe, but there was a hesitation in her steps—an uncertainty that Michael either didn’t notice or chose to ignore. The cottage was massive, each suite tailored for couples seeking the perfect honeymoon escape. Everything from the soft ambient lighting to the subtle scent of ro
Chapter Thirty-Two **At Anderson’s House…** Agnes paced back and forth in the lavish living room, her mind racing with possibilities. She knew she had to move quickly if she wanted to secure her position and ensure Anderson remained powerless. Now that she had control of his company, she needed to solidify her hold over him in a more personal way—by making him marry her. It was a risk, but Agnes had always thrived on calculated risks. She glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that Anderson would be home soon. She needed to come up with a plan that would leave him with no choice, a scenario that would push him to the brink and force him to take the only option she offered. An idea formed in her mind—a scenario so unexpected, so perfectly crafted, that Anderson would have no way out. When Anderson finally arrived, his face was drawn, his eyes clouded with exhaustion and disbelief from the recent events. He barely acknowledged Agnes as he tossed his keys on the table and collapsed
Chapter Thirty-One Wanda lay unconscious in the hospital bed, the room filled with the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the quiet hum of the machines keeping her stabilized. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead cast a pale glow across her face, highlighting her closed eyes and the faint bruises on her neck where Michael's hands had been. Michael sat in a chair beside her, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. His eyes were fixed on her face, a mixture of anger and frustration playing across his features. He had expected to feel relieved seeing her alive and breathing, but instead, a seething bitterness welled up inside him. The memory of their fight replayed in his mind, and instead of feeling guilt, he felt a surge of resentment. “Why do you make everything so difficult, Wanda?” he muttered under his breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Why can’t you just do as you’re told
Chapter Thirty Wanda’s heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted through the streets, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She knew she didn’t have much time before Michael realized she was gone. Her mind raced with only one thought—she needed to get back to the house, grab her things, and disappear before he could find her again. She made it to the house in record time, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the door. She slipped inside, listening carefully for any sound that might signal Michael’s return. The house was eerily quiet, the only noise her own breathing, heavy and frantic. She rushed up the stairs to their bedroom, her heart racing as she grabbed a small suitcase from the closet. Wanda quickly threw in a few pieces of clothing, toiletries, and any cash she had hidden away. Her hands moved fast, adrenaline fueling her every motion. She was almost done, almost ready to leave, when she heard the sound of a car door slamming outs
Chapter Twenty-Nine The dim room was silent after the chaotic confrontation. Michael's hand trembled slightly as he let go of Wanda's wrist, his eyes still locked on hers. He could feel the fire of defiance in her gaze, a challenge that both infuriated and intrigued him. Martha’s grip on his arm tightened, trying to pull him back, to calm the storm that was raging inside him. "Michael," Martha whispered, her voice low and steady. "You need to control yourself. This isn't helping." Michael turned sharply to Martha, irritation flickering across his face. "You don’t tell me what to do," he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual conviction. Wanda’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched them. She could feel Michael's conflicted emotions, the tension between his need for control and his uncertainty about what to do next. She knew she had to act quickly before his rage solidified again. “Martha, just leave,” W
Chapter Twenty-Eight The room felt colder than before, the walls closing in on Wanda as she sat on the floor, trying to calm her trembling body. Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts—frantic and jumbled—as she listened to the muffled sounds of Michael’s footsteps outside the door. She knew she couldn’t stay here much longer. The small, windowless room felt like a cage, and Michael was the captor who held the key. She glanced around, looking for anything she could use—a weapon, a tool, something that might give her a fighting chance. Her eyes landed on a broken piece of wood in the corner, part of an old chair that had been left to rot. She crawled over to it, her hands trembling as she picked it up, feeling its weight in her hands. “Stay calm, Wanda,” she whispered to herself. “Stay calm and wait for the right moment.” She knew that Michael wouldn’t leave her alone for long. He thrived on control, on making her feel small
Chapter Twenty-Seven Wanda awoke to the sound of footsteps pacing back and forth outside her bedroom door. Her heart quickened, a familiar dread settling into the pit of her stomach. She knew it was Michael—knew the sound of his agitated steps like the back of her hand. She remained still, her breath shallow, hoping that if she didn’t make a noise, he would pass by and leave her in peace. But the footsteps stopped abruptly, and the door swung open with a sharp creak. Michael stood in the doorway, his expression severe, his eyes hard and scrutinizing. “Get up,” he ordered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. Wanda swallowed, slowly sitting up. “What’s wrong?” she asked cautiously. Michael didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked over to the window, yanking the curtains open to let in a harsh stream of sunlight. “I need you to come with me,” he said finally, his tone brokering no argument. “We have somew
Chapter Twenty-Six The days that followed Wanda’s shocking discovery blurred into one another, each one darker and more oppressive than the last. Michael’s behavior toward her had taken on a new level of cruelty, his tone sharp and his gaze cold whenever they crossed paths in the house. He had always been distant, but now, his indifference had turned into a deliberate attempt to break her spirit. Wanda felt trapped, her growing pregnancy making her more vulnerable with each passing day. She could feel the life growing inside her, a small flutter that reminded her of the tiny heartbeat that would soon be born into a world that seemed increasingly hostile. The baby was supposed to be a source of joy, but now it felt like another chain binding her to Michael’s tyranny. One morning, as Wanda stood by the kitchen counter, trying to prepare breakfast, she heard Michael’s footsteps approaching from behind. Her body tensed, her hands trembling sl
Chapter Twenty-Five **At the Office…** Anderson sat at the head of the conference table, his expression focused and determined. Across from him, the representatives from NovaTech and several other board members were seated, all eyes fixed on the final documents that lay before them. The room buzzed with the tension of the moment, the air thick with anticipation. Agnes sat beside Anderson, her face a picture of poise and confidence. She had guided him to this point with precision, orchestrating every move, every negotiation, to align with her hidden agenda. Now, as the final signatures were set to be made, she felt the thrill of success pulsing through her veins. "Alright," Anderson said, taking a deep breath as he glanced around the room. "I think we’ve covered all the points. If everyone’s in agreement, we can move forward and sign." The NovaTech representative nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "We’re r
Chapter Twenty-Four Michael’s grip on Wanda’s arm was tight as he dragged her out of the car and into the house. His jaw was set in a hard line, his eyes filled with fury as they crossed the threshold. Wanda stumbled slightly, her arm aching from where Michael had held her too tightly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to keep up with his furious pace. As soon as the front door slammed shut behind them, Michael spun around to face her, his eyes blazing with anger. “What the hell was that, Wanda?” he roared, his voice echoing off the walls. “What were you doing with him? Are you trying to humiliate me?” Wanda flinched at the volume of his voice, her heart pounding in her chest. “Michael, please… I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over his shouting. “I just ran into Anderson at the hospital. He was being kind… he was only comforting me.” “Comforting you?” Michael sneered, his