The Vice President's Caged Wife

Everyone at the corporation envied me — from a lowly janitor to the wife of the Vice President.

My husband doted on me. I never had to lift a finger.

But no one knew that in private, he would have people bind my legs with rope.

When he saw the bloody marks on my legs, his expression would soften as he stroked my face.

"Honey, when you look so fragile, you're most like her."

1

I applied medicine to my leg wounds, having learned to ignore Ethan's insane ramblings.

We'd been married for three years.

I'd grown accustomed to this side of him, and I'd suffered enough from resisting.