“Housekeeper? Or just a maid cleaning up after everyone else?”

Those words, sharp and cruel, echoed in my mind, a refrain I had grown all too familiar with.

At first, they stung, cutting through me like a sharp blade. I found myself questioning, doubting if I really was as worthless as they painted me to be.

But five years ago, I was just as young and radiant as Kendall.

Five years ago, my world had shattered. In an instant, my parents were ripped from me in a tragic accident, leaving only me and my ten-year-old brother battling leukemia.

Desperation had taken root in me, and there was no choice but to drop out of school. I juggled part-time jobs, anything to afford his treatment.

The quickest way to earn money? A nightclub, where I ended up as an escort.

When a client humiliated me, a bottle crashing into my forehead, I thought I’d reached the bottom.

But then, a hand reached down from the darkness, pulling me out.

That was the first time I met Blake.

He had appeared like an angel in my life, lifting me from the flames of my misery.

And in that moment, he offered me a lifeline, an unexpected marriage contract.

Five million in exchange for five years of my life.

I agreed.

He said he needed a wife to quiet his family's expectations, someone with a spotless past, and that he didn’t want me out in public often, only allowing me to go out twice a week.

I agreed.

So, I spent those five years almost entirely inside this grand mansion.

As for Blake, I thought I loved him. I accepted this "imprisonment," and, oddly, I even found a strange comfort in it.

I truly believed I could be his wife forever.

But he never touched me, never allowed me into his inner world.

Then, one day, when he wasn’t home, I couldn’t fight the temptation any longer. I sneaked into his bedroom, and that’s when the truth hit me like a slap in the face.

Blake had always had a lover.

Kendall.

His five-years-younger neighbor.

I had long grown numb to Blake’s endless parade of women. To me, they were nothing more than fleeting distractions, mere tools to satisfy his desires. And I, in my quiet submission, held onto the title of "Mrs. Wilson" as if it were a badge of honor.

But yesterday changed everything. The moment I saw Kendall stroll into that bedroom, the one I had never been allowed to set foot in for five years, it hit me like a jolt of electricity. I finally understood. It was time to leave.

"Laura?" Blake’s voice sliced through my thoughts, thick with impatience. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

"You called me useless, right?" I replied coolly, turning to face him. "Maybe it’s time I find a job. A housekeeper, a maid, " I paused, locking eyes with him. "Five years. I haven’t broken any laws. Should I just waste away here forever?"

Blake opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Kendall stepped out, sliding into a pristine, brand-new couture dress. It was the same dress Blake had kept locked away, never worn, waiting for the right moment. And now it was on Kendall.

"I didn’t expect you to know my size so well," she purred, twirling in front of him. The fabric swirled gracefully around her, her smile gleaming. "Do you think it looks good?"

Blake took Kendall's hand, his usual indifference replaced by something soft, almost affectionate.

"They look amazing," he said, nodding. "As long as you love them, I’ll buy you anything."

And then, right there in front of me, they kissed.

Kendall, her cheeks tinged with a hint of shyness, reluctantly pulled away from Blake. "There are others here..." she murmured, her eyes briefly flickering to me. "Do you think the dress Blake chose for me looks good?"

The dress clung to Kendall’s form, a shimmering fabric that wrapped around her like it had been made for her, luxurious, radiant, and perfectly suited to her youthful charm.

I nodded; my voice was soft yet genuine as I met her gaze.

"They’re stunning."

Kendall froze, momentarily caught off guard by my words. She stood there, her gaze flickering as if weighing my intent.

Blake’s brows furrowed, though his expression remained as unreadable as ever.

Seizing the chance, I silently slipped away from the kitchen, feeling a sense of liberation with each step I took.

The divorce agreement would take effect in a week, and I had only that precious time to pack my life and leave this place behind.

Back in the bedroom, I scrolled through rental listings on my phone, absorbed in my thoughts, when Blake’s voice cut through the air.

"I need to head to the company for a bit. Kendall will stay here, so you’ll take care of her."

I raised an eyebrow, the confusion creeping into my tone. "Am I now a housekeeper? Is she so helpless that she needs me to babysit her?"

I had always bowed to his commands without a second thought, but today, something had shifted in me. I found myself questioning him, challenging his authority with every word.

His face darkened, his voice dropping low and menacing. "Laura, don’t forget who’s been keeping you. You’re here because of me, and you’ll do as I say. Don’t push me."

I swallowed the bitter taste of my pride, nodding with reluctant compliance, the weight of his words pressing heavily on my chest.

Before leaving, Blake issued one last warning, his voice low and edged with authority. "Kendall’s young. You’re responsible for her while I’m gone. If anything happens, don’t think I’ll let you off easy."

With those words lingering in the air, Blake leaned down to kiss Kendall’s forehead, a tender, possessive gesture before he strode out, the sound of the door clicking shut reverberating in the silence.

Now, with only Kendall and me left in the living room, the atmosphere shifted. She slouched against the sofa, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

"I heard you’ve been married to Blake for five years," she said, her voice thick with amusement.

"Yes," I replied, my tone calm and measured, betraying nothing of the storm brewing inside me.

"But last night, he told me he’s never touched you!" Kendall’s posture shifted as she tossed her hair back, revealing the dark mark on her neck. "You must be twenty-six by now, still a virgin…" Her words hung in the air, sharp and probing.

She giggled, swaying gracefully like a delicate flower, before continuing, "You must’ve heard us last night, right? Blake is such a tease. He made sure you could hear everything from the next room. Oh, and I almost forgot, you’ve never experienced a man, have you? Especially someone as strong as Blake."

Her laughter was almost too much to bear. "What a shame. At your age, I doubt anyone would touch you, except for maybe you chasing after them, right?"

I furrowed my brows, disbelief creeping into my thoughts. I hadn’t expected Blake’s hidden rose to speak with such venom.

Calmly, I answered, "Everyone lives their life differently. I don’t base my existence on any man."

Kendall’s laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a sneer. "A woman who’s been living off a man, playing housewife for five years, probably has no room to talk, huh?"

I chose not to engage further, sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa as I continued my search for a place to rent.

Kendall couldn’t stand the sight of me remaining so calm and composed. It didn’t take long for her to start pushing my buttons, trying to boss me around.

The last time, she complained that the coffee I made was too cold and demanded I pour boiling water to fix it. Then, with the slyest of smiles, she pretended to spill it—most of the water splashed onto me while just a few drops landed on her wrist.

Her cry echoed through the room, sharp and dramatic.

"Blake, it hurts so much..."

By the time Blake rushed in, his face twisted in alarm, Kendall was already in full meltdown mode.

She showed him the small burn on her wrist, and he fussed over it for a moment before turning to me, his anger flaring.

With a forceful slap, he sent me crashing to the ground.

"Didn’t I tell you to take care of Kendall? Is this how you do it?!"

His voice was cold with fury. "If even the smallest mark appears on her, I’ll make sure you suffer ten times worse."

Without another word, Blake grabbed Kendall and rushed her off to the hospital, leaving me kneeling on the floor.

I lifted my nightgown, the red welts on my thighs already burning with the sting of the water.

I lowered my gaze, the world before me slipping into a haze. Large, hot tears splashed onto my swollen knees.

The pain from the wound was sharp, but it barely scratched the surface compared to the ache in my heart.

I hailed a taxi, the loneliness in the backseat a cruel reminder of what I was leaving behind.

As the doctor tended to my injury, she muttered about the patient in the next room, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"These girls today are just so spoiled," she sighed. "A tiny burn, barely the size of a fingernail, and her boyfriend called the director. He threatened to shut down the whole hospital if she got a scar..."

She paused, a wistful tone taking over. "You don’t get it. That’s what it means to be loved. I envy her. She has it all—handsome, rich, devoted. She’s got a man who’d do anything for her..."

I stared down at the grotesque burn on my thigh, an involuntary sneer twisting my lips.

Blake was indeed the perfect man from the outside—handsome, wealthy, and all-consuming. But what did it all mean without love?

After the doctor finished, I sat on a bench outside the ward, trying to steady myself, lost in thought.

Then, Blake and Kendall appeared, walking toward me.

When Blake saw the bandages on my leg, his frown deepened.

"You got hurt too? Why didn’t you say anything?"

Before I could answer, he continued, his tone judgmental. "Well, that’s your fault. You can’t even carry a cup of water properly. Luckily, Kendall didn’t get hurt. Otherwise..."

Blake, ever the picture of cold indifference, stood there, his arms wrapped tightly around Kendall.

Kendall leaned sweetly into him, her voice soft with feigned innocence. "Don’t blame her, Blake. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been so selfish, asking her to take care of me..."

Blake’s arms tightened around Kendall protectively as if he were shielding her from any harm.

"Don’t be silly. I’ve raised her for five years. Even if you treat her like a servant, it’s still your responsibility."

"As long as you’re happy, you can make her do anything," Kendall added, her voice dripping with sweetness.

With that, they left, walking off as if nothing had happened.

Not once did Blake care to ask about my injury, never once sparing a thought for the pain I was in.

I lowered my head, my limbs too weak to move. I tried a few times, but I couldn’t find the strength to walk.

"Miss, would you like me to contact your husband?" the nurse asked gently, her voice full of concern.

I watched them disappear down the hallway, and a bitter smile curled on my lips.

"No. We’ll be divorced soon," I murmured, my voice barely audible.

A week passed, and still no sign of Blake.

He had taken Kendall to New York, leaving me behind in this empty villa.

Each day, Kendall sent me photos—pictures of them embracing beneath the Statue of Liberty, kissing amid the bustling crowd of Times Square, kneeling before a sky ablaze with fireworks.

There were too many to count.

The final night before the five-year mark, I hid beneath the covers, alone in the vast emptiness of the villa.

I flipped through the photos, my hands trembling, each image a sharp reminder of the love I would never have.

By the time I reached the last one, my tears fell uncontrollably, slipping through my fingers like sand.

That night, I finally pulled away the light that had once warmed me, casting me into a cold, unfamiliar darkness.

When the divorce agreement took effect, Blake still hadn’t returned home.

I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye.

With a heavy heart, I packed up everything that was mine, placing the divorce agreement neatly on the coffee table.

I took one last, lingering glance at the villa that had held me captive for five years, its walls now nothing more than cold memories, before walking away without a single look back.

From that moment on, I would be free.

A free soul, no longer shackled by the chains of anyone or anything.

It was half a month later when Blake called, just as I was holding an invitation from the renowned designer Solomon Jennings.