His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

155 You Belong to Me

A damp, cold breath poured into my nose and woke me from the darkness. I found myself lying in a dark room, my mind blank. I tried to remember everything that happened before I passed out. The only clear memory that exists in my mind is the sound of a ghost.

"Hello, my little rose." The voice came from a corner of the room. A sudden chill hit my body and I felt cold.

A slender figure in the dim light slowly appeared. He silently walked toward me. I saw the Frade-like face in the yellowish light, a bitter smile on his face as he looked at me.

"You crashed my car on purpose," I accused him. "It was you who caught me here."

"Calm down." Daley looked at me calmly. "Shouldn't I be asking you why you drugged me and ran away? What good did you do behind my back while I was looking for you?"

"You deserved it," I said. "You broke the law."

"So my wife sold my evidence to her ex-lover?" Daley's eyes flashed with hate. "You ruined me for Frade. I should just have killed you."

"Then why don't you?"

"You know I can't bear to kill you," he said as he reached out to touch my cheek, but I shook him off. He glared at me.

"Even though my plan has been ruined by you," he said, "that doesn't mean I'm going to be ruined. Even if the security people come, what can they do to me? Look, I'm still standing here."

Cunning hunters are not easy to deal with, even if they become prey. I should warn Frade in time.

"I decided to go back to Mexico," he sighed at his defeat. "Maybe I'm never going to win Frade again."

"Then why did you take me with you?"

"You're my wife," he said with a strange smile. "Of course, you're coming back to Mexico with me."

"I'm not going anywhere." I got up from bed and tried to run out. He grabbed my wrist.

"We're leaving by boat tonight." His eyes were fixed on mine. "You have to come with me."

"I told you, I'm not leaving here with you," I shouted at him. "Let me go."

"Is this about him again?" Daley pushed me against the wall. His tone was cold. "You continue to harm me because of him. I provide you with my forgiveness and compassion, and you return the favour by betraying and hurting me repeatedly."

"You never loved me." I saw through his nature, "From the moment you first met me, you've been thinking about how to use me. You didn't save me out of kindness, you just wanted to use me to get back at Frade. You know, Frade's Achilles' heel is Mia, and I happen to look exactly like Mia. From beginning to end, I was just your tool."

"How dare you talk to me like that?" He said, gripping my wrist in exasperation. "I taught you how to survive. I rescued you from that man-eating hellhole. And what did your Frade do for you? Tell me!"

"He taught me how to love!" I screamed at him, tears streaming down my eyes. "He taught me what it means to be reborn again. You, you will only make me go to Hell forever!"

Daley was the dark side of my past, and I knew I couldn't stay in a spiral of hatred all my life. Daley is the Devil of Hell, and his so-called love for me is just trying to tie me to him.

Nobody can stand the sense of isolation and loneliness that the dark brings. He believed that I belonged to him. He believed I would be by his side constantly.

But he was wrong.

Daley stared at me. He held my wrist so hard that he almost broke my hand. I was in so much pain that I could hardly breathe, but I didn't beg for mercy. His golden eyes reflected the ferocity with which he punished the prisoner. We confronted each other without a word.

Finally, he let go of his hands. My wrist was immediately released, but the pain remained in my muscles. He stood before me with no intention of letting me go.

"We'll get out of here tonight." He returned to his calm tone. "You'll never get away from me. Never!"

"You can't leave," I said. "The security people are looking for you. They'll find you soon."

"Oh, really?" Daley sneered. "Then why did the police have an accident while transporting me? Why do you think I got away so easily?"

There seemed to be some secret in his words, and I was surprised by it. How did he get away with it? The sound of the whistle came from the window, and I realized that we were on the boat.

Not only did he escape the police, he even had time to kidnap me, and now he's safe and sound again. He can't do it alone unless someone is helping him.

Who Is It?

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly and he sat down in his chair. He leisurely took a cigarette from a cigarette case on a nearby table and lit the cigarette with a lighter.

"Do you remember what your mother left you?" He said with a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth. "The notebook you couldn't open was opened by me. Do you want to know what secrets your mother left you?"

"Did you steal the relics left by my mother?" I rushed to argue with him, but I felt dizzy before I could take two steps. If I hadn't sat on the bed in time, I would have fallen to the ground.

"Anesthetic is working on you," Daley said. "Don't worry, You'll just feel physically tired and won't slip back into a coma. I'm not as violent to you as you are to me."

"What did you see?" I asked, leaning against the headboard. "What was in that diary?"

"Do you want to know?" Daley said, trying to keep me in suspense. "What's in there is going to have a huge impact if it goes public."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I felt my throat dry and my voice hoarse.

"It was the secret in that diary that saved me," he sneered. "The secret about your real father!"

My father? Is he talking about the general?

"I don't think you know yet." Daley put out his cigarette. "Your biological father is expected to run for president next year. And your mother's diary contains secrets about his past."

So he threatened my father with the secret to help him. Daley contacted him?

"What did you do?" I felt weak.

"Maybe you should listen to the tape your mother hid in her diary," Daley said as he took the phone out of his pocket. "I backed up the tape on my phone."

He pressed the play button on his cell phone, and soon I heard my mother's long-lost voice.