Ophelia forced a tremulous smile as she approached her husband, her heart pounding in her chest. His presence filled the room, suffocating her with fear and the constant threat of violence. His cold, calculating eyes bore into her, seeking any hint of defiance or weakness.
"I've finished cleaning, as you instructed," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her body trembling with anticipation.
Her husband's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Good," he sneered, his tone dripping with sadistic pleasure. "But tell me, dear wife, have you been hiding something from me?"
Ophelia's blood ran cold, her mind racing to comprehend how he could have discovered her secret transgression. Panic welled up inside her as she clutched onto the facade of composure, her gaze fixed on the ground.
He advanced toward her, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. With a swift and powerful motion, he delivered a brutal blow to her face, sending her crashing to the floor. Pain exploded through her body as she tasted the metallic tang of blood.
"You dare defy me?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room. "You think you can eat without my permission?"
Each merciless strike that followed seemed to blur together in a haze of agony. Ophelia's body convulsed with pain, her world spinning out of control. She fought to remain conscious, enduring the onslaught of her husband's wrath.
Finally, satisfied with his brutal display of dominance, her husband stepped back, leaving her broken and gasping for air. He sneered down at her, a grotesque mixture of satisfaction and disdain twisting his features.
"Remember, Ophelia, you belong to me. Your life is in my hands," he hissed, before turning and retreating to his private quarters.
As the sound of his footsteps faded away, Ophelia lay on the cold floor, her body battered and bruised. Through the haze of pain, a newfound determination ignited within her. She had endured enough suffering. This would be the last time he laid a hand on her.
Summoning every ounce of strength, Ophelia pushed herself up from the floor, her body protesting with each movement. She glanced at her surroundings, searching for any glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.
With painstaking effort, she made her way to their shared bedroom, her husband's snores filling the room. The realization that this was her moment, her only chance at escape, fueled her resolve.
Gathering what little belongings she could, Ophelia slipped through the shadows, her steps as silent as her beating heart. She clutched onto the pain and the memory of his cruelty, using them as fuel to propel her forward.
As she stepped out into the moonlit night, a newfound sense of freedom washed over her. The weight of her husband's control lifted, replaced by a raw determination to never be a victim again.
With the bitter taste of blood still on her lips, Ophelia ran, her body aching with every stride. She ran toward an uncertain future, driven by the hope of reclaiming her life and finding solace in a world that had long been denied to her.
The night air chilled Ophelia's battered body as she ran, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. Each step propelled her farther away from the horrors she had endured, fueling her resolve to never look back.
As she fled through the dimly lit streets, Ophelia's mind raced with uncertainty. Where would she go? Who could she trust? The demons of her past still lingered, their shadows casting doubt upon her every decision.
YOU ARE READING
Trust Me
Hombres Lobo"Run." Beaten bloody and half dead, Ophelia barely manages to escape the prison her husband built around her. It is a wonder she survives his torture. Afraid and weak she passes out in an unknown area. But when she awakes, her life is never going to...
