My Poor Husband Is A Billionaire

The mere thought of the spectacle where he crushed Brandon underfoot would send Jeremy into bouts of gleeful mirth.

Jeremy’s savage grin paired with his frosty laughter was enough to chill Suzanne’s bones, a fear she kept well concealed. Their separation had spanned but a handful of days.

How was it that Jeremy seemed even more unhinged, more outlandish than before? His demeanor was akin to a midnight butcher brandishing his blade on a deserted street.

Such recklessness stirred a sense of trepidation in Suzanne. Could such a man, a tempest of insanity, truly serve as her protector? Might his blade find her skin in some unfathomable future? Contemplating this possibility sent ripples of anxiety through Suzanne.

In truth, she was a woman beset by perpetual insecurity. Upon her birth, her mother was claimed by the harsh realities of childbirth.

As a girl in the patriarchal Duncan family, she received less-than-welcome receptions. Her existence was deemed the origin of her mother’s demise.

storage room in their antiquated homestead, left to her own devices. The elders’ scorn emboldened her relatives to torment her daily for their amusement. In her mind’s eye, Suzanne recalled her cousins delighting in dropping insects into her garments, applauding enthusiastically as her tears of terror flowed. At first, she would protest, but they dismissed

pleading for mercy. Suzanne sought help from

deaf ears. The patriarchs met her with revulsion, suggesting cruelly, "Why do they raise their hands on you and not others? Reflect on yourself." Too young to counteract, Suzanne would retreat, her battered body finding solace in that

executed or if the servant faced criticism elsewhere, Suzanne was the sacrificial lamb, bearing beatings and insults. Attempts to retaliate only provoked harsher abuse, more brutal blows. Her formative years were painted with bruises and insults, bereft of family or companions. Upon reaching school age, she harbored hopes of better times, only to find her tormenting cousins

by her cousin. Consequently, her peers believed she was an

school day began with a symbolic sweeping of their brooms on her back, their

"You, the source of your

rue the day

found herself cornered with no choice