At 10 am sharp, the moving crew of four large, burly men arrived to empty our modest city apartment of all our belongings.
I trailed behind the massive truck carrying our furniture and possessions in a taxi, giving them directions to the new, high-end neighborhood.
My stomach churned with anxiety as we approached our new home, knowing that this move would only serve to further isolate me from my support system and give Richard more control over my life.
Achrafieh Hill contained only three luxurious mansions spaced extremely far apart - each one trying to outdo the other in grandeur and excess.
One particular property occupied a massive, sprawling area surrounded by towering iron gates and a security checkpoint. It was not our new place, of course—Richard didn't make that much, at least not yet.
But I had no doubt he aspired to own such a fortress one day, further cutting me off from the outside world.
I paid the taxi driver and headed over to the four brawny workers, addressing them as formally and politely as I could muster, given my current foul mood.
My head was pounding from lack of sleep and the stress of the move.
"Please just put the heavy furniture as it was arranged in the old apartment - the living room set right after the entrance, the bedroom suite through the door on the left, and the office pieces on the right."
The four of them nodded understandingly. Perspiration was already beading across their foreheads and staining the armpits of their navy blue uniforms from lugging the heavier items.
"I'll handle moving the smaller boxes and accessories myself so we can finish this as quickly as possible," I added in an earnest tone, trying to inject some warmth into my voice despite my inner turmoil.
"Yes, Mrs. Maine." Their gruff crew leader, a man appearing to be in his late 40s with a potbelly straining against his sweat-stained shirt, responded gruffly on behalf of the rest.
He made a little check mark on his clipboard, no doubt having been briefed on my married status and name by Richard.
I pursed my lips in disgust at having to use my husband's surname - the name that now tied me to that cruel, sadistic monster.
The name I had been robbed of any choice in taking, along with my independence, identity, and sense of self-worth.
Every time I heard it, it felt like another nail in the coffin of my former self.
"Good luck," I muttered, raking a hand through my sweat-dampened messy bun as I watched them haul the heavy couch and armchairs inside first.
The furniture seemed to mock me with its familiarity - each piece held memories of arguments, threats, and violence that I wished I could forget.
The workers made quick progress, getting the entire bedroom set situated next, followed by Richard's precious home office furniture and accessories.
I was heading towards the kitchen, lugging a boxed-up microwave, when I noticed two of the burlier men carefully carrying one of Richard's prized objets d'art—an enormous classic oil painting by some renowned artist whose name I could never be bothered to remember.
The irony of Richard's love for beautiful art while treating his wife so uglily was not lost on me.
"Be extremely careful not to scratch, bump, or damage those paintings in any way," I warned them.
The last time one of his precious artistic investments had suffered so much as a speck of dust, the punishment he doled out was...severe, to say the least.
My ribs ached at the memory.
"There will be dire consequences if anything at all happens to them."
Fear and apprehension crossed their features as they processed my words but didn't verbalize it.
"We'll be real careful, ma'am. Don't you worry." The burlier of the two grunted.
I slowly made my way towards the kitchen, the boxed-up microwave's weight already making my arms and lower back ache from struggling under the strain.
I wonder how a sadistic, emotionally bankrupt bastard like Richard can sanctify and revere art in such an unhealthy way when it's not even suitable for his cruel, barbaric nature. Perhaps he saw the paintings as possessions to be controlled and admired, much like he viewed me.
It took a little over an hour to get all of our belongings carefully situated inside the cavernous new place.
After the moving crew had finished loading everything in and departed, I went back outside to retrieve the last few stray boxes of small vases, picture frames, and knickknacks.
The late morning sun beat down on me, causing sweat to trickle down my back.
That's when I discovered with a roll of my eyes that they'd carelessly left my massive, 6-foot-tall wedding portrait leaning against the exterior wall of the villa.
The gaudy, intricate thing was even bigger than me!
"Unbelievable! Damn, incompetent workers! Just like the backward man who hired them," I muttered under my breath, glaring at the oversized photo.
The sight of it made my skin crawl.
In it, I was wearing an elaborate, corseted white lace gown that had been tailored to my petite frame, while Richard cut an imposing figure beside me in a sleek black tuxedo from a designer I didn't even want to think about how much it cost.
We both had fake, plastic smiles plastered across our faces, but his was tinged with arrogance while mine looked somewhat strained around the edges.
I remember how uncomfortable I felt that day. I had already sensed that something was off, but I was unable to put my finger on it.
"Why are you grinning like a delusional idiot?" I laughed bitterly at my former, naively optimistic self.
"You didn't expect the man your family pressured and cajoled you into marrying would turn out to be such a vile, abusive, narcissistic prick, did you, poor, foolish thing?"
If only I could go back in time and warn that innocent girl of what was to come.
Realizing I was carrying on a one-sided conversation while talking to myself, I shook my head slowly and angrily kicked at the thick glass covering the large portrait with the pointed toe of my designer high heels.
"Fuck!" The physical pain in my foot was almost a welcome distraction from the emotional anguish roiling inside me.
I wrapped my arms around the edges of the heavy, cumbersome frame and lifted with a groan of immense effort.
My sore muscles strained against the weight. "I don't know why the living room needs to be decorated with a huge fucking picture of us acting like we're deliriously in love. It's enough that we have to exhaust ourselves putting on that fake, happy couple charade around others all the damn time."
I heard a car engine rumbling as it passed by on the street behind me but paid it no mind.
I was too focused on struggling to carry the monstrosity inside before my arms gave out completely.
"This is...so much heavier...than I thought..." Each step was agony, my body protesting against the abuse I was subjecting it to.
I took one trembling step forward, then another. My lower back was already screaming in protest from the awkward angle and immense weight when suddenly, my very soul felt like it was about to depart from my body.
My arms were reaching their limit, muscles quivering with exertion.
"Damn you, Richard!" I cried out in anguished desperation, knowing I was about to embarrass myself by dropping such an expensive piece.
The thought of facing his wrath if I damaged it sent a chill down my spine.
Before I could let the portrait come crashing violently to the ground, I felt someone's strong fingers grip the lower edge of the frame and take at least half of the weight off me.
"Looks like you need some help there."The painting obscured my view, so I didn't realize it was a man until his rich, husky voice flowed into my ears from behind me.I tilted my head to the right and my gaze landed on the sculpted, exquisite features of a very handsome stranger.He was easily over 6 feet tall, with sharp, masculine features - eyes that crinkled becomingly at the corners and a head of perfectly tousled black hair.An air of quiet confidence and self-assuredness radiated from him in waves that were utterly breathtaking.For a moment, I forgot how to breathe."Leave it, I'll carry it for you," he stated firmly in a way that was authoritative and wouldn't take no for an answer.There was something about his demeanor that both irritated and intrigued me.And because I've always detested being ordered around or having my capabilities underestimated, I immediately objected with a shake of my head.The sweaty strands of hair that had escaped my bun tickled my cheek. "It's ok
For the next few hours, I threw myself into the task of cleaning and organizing.I carefully hung up my and Richard's clothes in the spacious walk-in closet, trying not to dwell on how my modest wardrobe barely filled a quarter of the available space.My husband's designer suits and expensive shoes, on the other hand, seemed right at home in such luxurious surroundings.Evening approached.I decided to take a break from unpacking and do some baking instead.Cooking had always been a source of comfort for me, a way to center myself when life felt chaotic or overwhelming.I spent the next hour or so in the gleaming gourmet kitchen, losing myself in the familiar rhythms of measuring, mixing, and folding.The result of my efforts was two batches of my signature cakes – one a rich chocolate fudge, the other a delicate lemon poppyseed.As they cooled on the marble countertop, filling the air with their tempting aromas, I carefully packed them into decorative boxes I had bought specifically
Minnie returned rather quickly. She set a plate of cookies on the coffee table between us, smothered her short white sundress, and plopped down next to me in a casual, friendly manner."I was planning to visit your house a little later after the twins came back from daycare to officially welcome you to the neighborhood," she said with a friendly laugh. "But you beat me to it! I'm so glad you did, though."My eyes widened in astonishment at her words. "Twins? You're...you're a mother?" I sputtered out, feeling a bit foolish for my surprise.I tried to reconcile the image of this youthful, vibrant woman before me with that of a mother of two.Minnie giggled audibly. "Why do you look so shocked? Do you think motherhood isn't suitable for a woman like me?" She arched one finely sculpted eyebrow teasingly, but there was no malice in her tone.I waved my hand in denial, flustered and trying to backpedal. "No, no, that's not what I meant at all! I just... you look so young and..." I trailed
I could sense a hint of... envy or resentment in Minnie's tone.She hugged her arms dramatically, unable to contain a slightly exaggerated shiver. "Even their way of dealing with people and socializing is completely different from normal folks. The Blackthorn couple were called the Ice Duo by society's elite circles. Can you believe that? Who would want such a chilly nickname?"She looked at the small cake she had placed on the table earlier with clear pity in her gaze as if even the dessert might wilt under the Blackthorns' frosty demeanor."You'll have to go over there and officially greet them after leaving my house," Minnie said with a warning edge that made me sit up straighter. "It's expected in our little community. But don't feel too afraid of my words about them. It's not like they'll actually devour you or anything!"She attempted a small laugh that sounded forced and did little to ease the sudden knot of anxiety in my stomach.I swallowed nervously, and my mouth suddenly dr
The imposing manor's exterior lights flickered on, illuminating the well-kept grounds with a welcoming, cozy glow.I squared my shoulders, determined to make a good first impression. After all, first impressions could be everything, and who knew what intriguing secrets lay behind those doors?I politely introduced myself to the woman who spoke through the smart doorbell's intercom system and then passed through the gates with measured, unhurried steps.The distance between the entrance and the manor itself was vast, but the immaculately landscaped grounds and winding pathways made for a pleasant, almost zen-like stroll.As I approached the impressive main entrance, I was greeted by a striking woman clad in a knee-length black tuxedo dress that hugged her curvy frame to perfection.Her dark hair was styled in elegant curls that brushed just past her shoulders, and I instantly deduced that this poised beauty could only be the elusive Mrs. Blackthorn herself."Mrs. Blackthorn?" I venture
The sun was starting to set, illuminating our peaceful neighborhood street with long, golden shadows when I arrived home.I fumbled with my keys while juggling the grocery bags I'd picked up after my visit to the Blackthorns before finally managing to unlock the front door.I headed straight inside, kicking off my flats by the front door and heading to the kitchen.The house still smelled faintly of fresh paint and new furniture, a reminder that we'd only moved in only a few hours ago.I entered the kitchen and immediately set about preparing dinner. My movements were automatic like I had been programmed to perform this ritual without fail.Our kitchen had a charming balcony overlooking the backyard and the neighborhood behind our new house.The fading sunlight filtered through the half-open blinds, throwing long shadows across the tiled floor.Whenever I turned to look out the window to my right, I couldn't stop myself from staring at the Blackthorn manor towering majestically in the
Richard’s eyelids twitched in annoyance at my thinly veiled jab, and I knew from months of experience that he didn't like it when I subtly called out his shortcomings or mistakes.His face flushed an ugly shade of red, and a vein pulsed at his temple."You're only good at complaining and nagging, my God," he spat, slamming his briefcase down on the kitchen table. "Your shrill, whiny voice alone gives me a pounding headache. I don't know how I've put up with you and your mindless griping all these months. Sometimes, I think I should have listened to my mother and never married you in the first place."He pulled a chair from the kitchen table roughly and sat down heavily. The wood groaned in protest under his weight.He sat there expectantly, like a scolded child waiting to be served, not even offering to help set the table or get his own drink.I angrily punched the air behind him, imagining my fist connecting with his thick skull.The fantasy was so vivid I could almost feel the satis
I could visibly see the intense anger rising in his body from his tightly clenched fists, the protruding veins in his thick neck, and his rapidly reddening face.His whole muscular body seemed to tremble and vibrate with unbridled rage at my defiance."You've really done it now. You got yourself into this mess with your smart mouth," he growled out in a low, menacing tone full of quiet threats that sent chills through me..I barely had time to make out his muffled words when he suddenly shot up from his chair with such force it toppled over backward.In an instant, he was on me, grabbing a painfully tight fistful of my long hair and giving a vicious yank that made me cry out.My hands flew up to try on reflexes and pry his painfully clenched fingers off of the handful of my hair he had wrapped around his meaty fist."If you've forgotten who's the goddamn master of this house, I'll have to violently remind you of your proper place beneath me," he snarled in my face, his foul breath hot