After my younger sister suffered an allergic reaction from eating the food I cooked, my husband flew into a rage. He grabbed a whole crate of red wine from the house, pinned me down, and forced it into my mouth.

"You should feel Rosie's pain too!"

Soon, red rashes spread across my body, and my throat began to swell.

On the brink of death, I begged him to call an ambulance, but he locked me in the room instead.

"Take your time and enjoy it. Only when you suffer enough will you stop hurting others."

In despair, I felt my throat closing, and my skin itching unbearably as if pierced by needles. I scratched my skin until there wasn't a single patch of unbroken skin left.

Three days later, he finally decided to show mercy and make it up to me with a candlelit dinner.

"I bet you have learned your lesson. As long as you behave from now on, you'll still be Mrs. Henderson."

However, he would never see me again. By then, my body had already turned to ashes.

My Punishment

Blake Henderson idly spun his phone in his hand, the shifting glow from the screen flickering across his handsome face.

It had been three days, and I still had not called him once. In the past, I used to cling to him every second I could.

"I guess she finally learned her lesson." Blake chuckled softly. Melinda's tear-streaked face flashed through his mind, only to be quickly replaced by annoyance.

Just then, his phone rang.

Blake picked it up quickly and said, "Melinda, you—"

"Mr. Henderson, Mrs. Henderson's room hasn't been cleaned for the past two days. The smell is getting quite strong."

It was the butler.

"What trick is she playing now?" A trace of disgust flashed in Blake's eyes. "Is she trying to force me to go back just like this? Dream on."

Hearing his words, the butler hesitated for a moment before saying, "Mrs. Henderson may already—"

Before he could finish, Blake cut him off. "Leave her alone. Let her fend for herself."

Then, he hung up the call.

Blake frowned and thought about my pale face, tearful and pleading.

"Blake, what are you thinking about?" Rosie, who was nestled in his arms, asked in a soft voice.

Hearing Rosie's voice, Blake snapped back to reality. He gently stroked her hair and said, "Nothing. I just thought of something unpleasant."

"Did my sister upset you again?" Rosie grabbed his hand and looked at him with concern.

"I didn't want to punish her. Please don't be mad at her anymore, even though she treated me…" As Rosie spoke, her voice trailed off, and her eyes reddened.

Seeing her reaction, Blake pulled her into his arms and comforted her. "It's okay, baby. You don't need to speak up for her. She's only trying to get my attention. I won't fall for it again. Don't worry. I won't let her hurt you anymore."

"But… but…" A faint glint of satisfaction flickered in Rosie's eyes, so brief it was almost impossible to catch.

Watching their display of affection, I laughed out of anger, but no one heard it. I was already dead.

The moment I stopped breathing, I felt myself drift up above the room. Looking down at the body on the floor, I knew it was me, yet it also felt strangely unfamiliar.

I saw my face filled with agony, and my body was a bloodied mess with eyes wide open in terror.

What was most ridiculous was that even at the moment of my death, I had still hoped Blake would remember the good in me and come save me.

Yet, at that very moment, Blake was at the hospital with Rosie, gently comforting her as she received an IV drip.

"Blake, will Melinda be okay?" Rosie's voice sounded as sweet as honey, yet it made me sick.

"Relax, she won't die. She's so afraid of death, so what's a little bit of an allergy going to do to her?" Blake replied casually.

Hearing that, I froze, and a sharp ache spread through my heart.

Rosie had eaten a little peanut, and he had rushed her to the hospital in a panic.

On the other hand, I had been forced to drink an entire crate of red wine, yet he dragged me into a room and locked me inside.

I was afraid of dying, so that was why I endured the burning pain of alcohol and struggled desperately to stay alive.

After Blake left the room, I dragged myself forward with great difficulty, leaving a clear trail behind me.

Suffocated to Death

After great effort, I finally reached the doorknob. However, I realized that he had locked the door from the outside.

I tried with all my strength to make a sound, but my throat felt completely blocked. All I could manage were hoarse, rasping gasps.

Desperately, I pounded on the door. Once, twice, three times…

The sound grew weaker and weaker until I no longer had the strength to even lift my hand in the end.

Just as my consciousness was about to fade, I heard the butler's voice outside the door.

"Mr. Henderson, are you sure you want to do this? If Mrs. Henderson really…"

"Shut up! One more word, and you're fired!" Blake snapped impatiently.

"If she doesn't suffer a bit, she'll never learn."

The lack of oxygen made my head buzz violently, and my vision started growing darker. In the end, I could see nothing at all.

…

"Forget it. Let Melinda out. The key is in my study drawer," Blake finally instructed coldly.

The butler's expression turned uneasy as he acknowledged the order over the phone.

Blake wrapped his arms around Rosie and said guiltily, "To make it up to you, I just bought you a villa in the south of the city. Why don't we go and take a look now?"

Rosie's eyes lit up and she excitedly pulled him toward the door. "You promised! I want a pink princess room and a huge garden!"

Blake smiled and affectionately tapped her nose. "Okay, whatever you want."

Along the way, Blake held Rosie's hand tightly, as if pouring all the affection he had into her. Yet for some reason, my face kept surfacing in his mind, refusing to fade.

Buzz! Buzz!

In that split second, the vibration of his phone interrupted his thoughts. Blake glanced at it irritably and found that it was the butler.

"What is it?"

"M-Mr. Henderson…" The butler's trembling voice came through the phone. "Mrs. Henderson, she—"

"What now? What is she trying this time?" Blake frowned impatiently. "Tell her I'm busy and that I don't have time for her games!"

"N-no, Mr. Henderson. Mrs. Henderson seems to be…" The butler took a deep breath as if gathering all his courage before continuing, "It seems she's dead."

"Dead?" Blake's expression instantly turned livid. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Then, he suddenly recalled the call from the butler that morning.

'Could it be that… No, impossible! Melinda had worked so hard to marry me, so how could she possibly die? She must be pretending so she could win my sympathy,' Blake thought.

"Mr. Henderson, I'm not lying." The butler was on the verge of tears. "Mrs. Henderson's body is already—"

"If she's dead, then she's dead. She's always been good at pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy. Are you helping her to deceive me too?"

"But—"

"That's enough! Tell her that if she doesn't want to come out, she can stay locked in there. I don't want to hear another word about her!" Blake roared and hung up.

He cursed inwardly that I had dared to threaten him like this.

"Blake, did something happen to Melinda?" Rosie asked softly.

"It's nothing." Blake gently patted her back. "Don't be soft-hearted with her after what she did to you."

"Still, she is my sister…" Rosie's voice trembled and sounded on the verge of crying.

However, I clearly saw the corner of her lips curl into a faint smile.

Blake let out a long sigh and stroked her hair softly. "You're too kind. That's why she always bullies you."

Kind? Rosie?

Looking at them, I almost laughed in fury.

A few days ago was our third wedding anniversary. I had prepared a table full of Blake's favorite dishes and waited for him with joy.

However, what he brought back wasn't a gift or flowers. Instead, it was Rosie, my so-called sister.

Rosie's Fake Act

Rosie clung affectionately to Blake's arm and said sweetly, "Melinda, I'm sure you don't mind me here, right?"

Looking at how close they were, I found it almost unbearable to watch.

Blake frowned and said impatiently, "Why should you care what she thinks? If you want to come, you can. Since when does she get a say?"

Suppressing my anger, I reminded him coldly, "Today is our wedding anniversary."

"So what?" Blake sneered, pulling Rosie to sit at the table. "If you don't like it, then leave. No one is forcing you to stay."

His words were like needles piercing my heart.

We had been together for years, yet I still couldn't get a single trace of affection from him in return.

After taking a few bites of the food, Rosie's expression suddenly changed. She covered her mouth and began to retch.

Seeing her reaction, Blake panicked immediately. "What's wrong, Rosie? What happened?"

She weakly pointed at the dishes in front of her and said with a trembling voice. "I'm allergic to peanuts. Melinda, did you put peanut sauce in the food?"

"I didn't!"

I knew this was clearly another act by Rosie. After all, I hadn't used any peanut sauce at all.

"Melinda, how could you do this to me? I know you don't like me, but why would you kill me…"

"Melinda, have you lost your mind?" Blake roared.

He scooped Rosie into his arms and rushed out like a gust of wind.

Late at night, Blake returned home. He yanked me off the bed and dragged me into the living room. When I saw a crate of red wine placed in the center of the room, my heart dropped.

"Blake, what are you doing?" I looked at him in terror, my voice trembling.

He let out a cold laugh and replied, "Melinda, how can you be so vicious? Rosie is so kind, yet you dared to harm her. I'll make you pay for the suffering you caused her."

Before I could react, he shoved me violently to the ground. Then the servants pinned me down tightly. I struggled desperately, but it was useless.

"I didn't harm Rosie! You have to believe me!" I cried out in despair.

"I can't believe you are still making excuses even now!" Blake said as he grabbed a bottle of red wine and roughly pried open my mouth, pouring the liquid in.

"I remember that you are allergic to alcohol."

The wine streamed down from the corners of my mouth. I choked violently and could feel my stomach churning in agony.

I have a severe alcohol allergy. Even a small amount of it could be fatal.

"Please don't. I'll die!" I begged, but it only made him more ruthless. "I never wanted to hurt Rosie. Please believe me…"

The allergic reaction grew stronger, and my body swelled as if inflated, burning with pain. My throat began to swell shut, making it harder to breathe.

I gasped desperately, but the air felt thinner and thinner. At the same time, darkness crept into my vision.

In agony, I looked at Blake and tried to beg him to stop.

But the moment I opened my mouth, I erupted into violent coughing. My stomach churned, and I could not hold it back.

I vomited.

When the mess stained his hands, he flung me aside in disgust.

"You're disgusting!" He slapped me twice, making my head spin and my ears ring.

Soon, more and more red patches spread across my body, merging into terrifying rashes. I felt like a fish thrown onto land, struggling on the brink of death.

However, Blake only looked at me coldly and said, "It hurts, doesn't it? Rosie felt the same just now!"

Then, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "I thought you were good at taking care of people. Why couldn't you take care of your sister?"

I looked at him in despair. Memories of his past tenderness flashed through my mind like a carousel.

When I was young and bullied, hiding in a corner and crying, it was Blake who handed me a lollipop and comforted me.

"Melinda, don't cry. If you eat candy, it won't hurt anymore." Then he went and fought off the people who had bullied me.

But that boy who had once treated me so gently had personally pushed me into hell.

When Blake finally grew tired of forcing wine down my throat, he grabbed my hair.