His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

145 A Hunger Strike

"Rita?" I looked in amazement at the woman in front of me. She was wearing a large flowery dress, and the morning light shone on her face like a layer of silvery gauze.

Rita went over to the bed with her plate and said respectfully, "Good Morning, Eva. It's time for your breakfast."

"Where's Daley?" I asked.

"I don't know," Rita said, shaking her head as she put her breakfast on the table.

"Daley told me to take good care of you," she said, picking up a bowl of oatmeal. "Try this oatmeal first. I made it myself."

She spooned some oatmeal into my mouth, and I turned away. She reluctantly put the bowl back on the table, and then she tried to get me some milk.

"Eva, miss... You need to replenish your energy."

"I'm not hungry," I said stubbornly. "I need to see Daley."

"Daley says he'll come to see you when he is free," Rita said gently. "If Daley knows you're not eating, he'll be angry."

"I don't have any appetite." I glanced at the food on my plate. Although it looked delicious, I didn't have an appetite at all. What I need to do now is not to eat, but to get out of here.

"Rita, why are you here?" As a native of Pudding Island, how could Rita have left her hometown so easily?

"Daley said he needed someone he trusted to take care of you," Rita said. "So he sent someone to pick me up from Pudding Island and bring me here. Not just me, but the others followed."

"Who?" I panicked.

"Someone who used to work for Daley in Pudding Island," Rita said, winking at me. "The men."

Assassins? He was going to do it this time.

"Rita, will you do me a favor?"

"Just say the word." She glanced at the rope around my wrists. "I can promise you anything but that."

"Please, Rita," I begged her. "Let me go while Daley's not here."

"But the rope is strong." Rita lowered her head. "And it's tied in a knot."

Her eyes flickered and she kept making excuses.

"Go to the kitchen and find a knife to cut the rope," I said. "Rita, I have to get out of here. I have to stop Daley. He's doing something stupid."

"Daley doesn't do stupid things," Rita said, looking up. "He's a smart and generous man."

"Please, Rita," I begged her again. "You have no idea how serious the situation is. Let me go."

"I'm sorry, but I can't." Rita stood up. "I can't betray Daley."

"If you won't help me, then I don't need you here to take care of me," I said coldly. "Go away."

"I'll come back later," Rita whispered. "When you're hungry."

When midday sunlight came into the room, Rita appeared before me again. This time I didn't say hello to her, but when she came to my bed with the food, I pretended to close my eyes and go to sleep.

"Eva, it's time for your lunch," she said.

The smell of food wafted up my nose and my stomach began to scream with hunger. Even so, I refused to eat. It was my last weapon.

"If you don't want to eat, here's juice," Rita said gently in my ear. "You can have some juice."

I still didn't respond.

"A hunger strike will only harm your body," she continued, "If you just want Daley to give in, you can have a little bit of food. And I'll tell him you're on a hunger strike. It's just between us. I promise Daley won't know."

"I won't eat anything until Daley agrees to let me out of here," I demanded.

"I couldn't reach him," Rita said. "I tried to call him, but it went to voicemail every time."

It was a perfect excuse, but I didn't believe it.

"Go away and leave me alone," I said, closing my eyes, and this time I was indifferent to Rita's persuasion.

Finally, Rita stopped talking. I heard the door close behind her. I hoped she was going to tell Daley. Although I know it's childish to threaten people by going on a hunger strike because it only works on people who care about you. For people who don't care about you, even if you starve to death, they won't look at you twice.

I'm waiting from dawn to dark. It wasn't until three days later that my body began to collapse. I felt weak. Hunger took over quickly. It told me that I had to replenish my energy, even with a glass of water.

But I can't. I can't give up now. If he doesn't come, then all I can hope for is Rita. I can't compromise unless she's willing to watch me starve.

Sure enough, the person who bets on one's conscience is usually the winner. I heard Rita crying when I was weak and asleep.

"Daley, I tried my best. But Eva insisted on a hunger strike." Rita sniffed. "Only you can convince her."

"How many days has she been on hunger strike?" The calm and familiar voice echoed through the room, reviving my weary soul.

"A total of three days."

"Go and get some fresh food."

"Yes, Daley."

The footsteps approached, and I smelled the hunter. He was watching me from the edge of the bed, watching me like I was his prey.

Does he care if I live or die?

"Are you awake?" He asked.

I opened my eyes and stared at him. I hadn't seen him in three days. He was thinner than I had expected. His face was tired but his eyes were firm.

"Let me go." My voice was weak and dry. I did not drink a drop of water, and my throat was already as dry as the earth.

"Why aren't you eating?" Daley said unhappily. "Is it for him too?"

"I hate being tied up like prey," I told him angrily. "Foxes will cut themselves rather than die at the hands of hunters."

It is true. I have seen a caged fox gnawing at her body. She does not eat any food given by the hunter. She knew that it was better to kill herself than to be skinned alive.

"You think you can make me compromise by going on a hunger strike?" He sneered. "You think I'm going to let you go to Frade?"

I saw a cold gleam in his eyes. It was a sign before he killed someone. Does he try to kill me?

"I hate to be threatened," he said. "Let's see who will give in in the end."

I stared at him in bewilderment as he picked up his phone to make a call. Soon, the doorbell rang. He opened the door and a waitress came in. Just as she was about to smile politely at Daley, the needle in Daley's hand pricked her fair neck.

I watched this innocent woman slowly fall into Daley's arms. She had no idea what she was getting into.

"What are you doing?" I shouted at him.

Daley picked up the waitress and sat her down on the couch. She was in a coma like a doll to be played with. He tied her hands and feet with rope and taped her mouth shut.

He turned and gave me a dark look.

"Honey, remember the game we used to play?"