After we got married, initially, we interacted like any normal married couple. That was until I caught him cheating with Emma White. I made a scene demanding a divorce, but before I could even leave, he dragged me back by my hair. He grabbed a nearby whip and beat me with it. Then, not satisfied, he pulled me up and slammed my head in the refrigerator door. Pampered all my life, I couldn't endure this. I begged him for mercy. He forced me to kneel, threatening to kill me if I moved.
I knelt all night, and the next morning, he and Emma brazenly entered our home. What I once thought was a warm place now felt like hell. I listened to their amorous sounds in the bedroom, my body trembling uncontrollably.
On New Year's Eve, I couldn't go home, and my mother couldn't reach my phone. She took a taxi to our house, but no matter how much she rang the doorbell, no one opened. She went back home and called Alan, who told her I had caught an infectious disease and didn't want to infect them. Until the Lantern Festival, there was no news from me. She went to our house again, just in time to see a drunk Alan punching me in the face.
I crawled on the ground, gasping for air, as Alan ran out and threw away the phone my mother was using to call the police. He threatened her, saying if she dared call the police, I would be dead immediately. Shocked, my mother had a heart attack on her way home and never woke up.
On the day of my mother's funeral, my father's publishing house was oppressed by the Green family and eventually taken over by them. Gary was arrested for copyright infringement, a crime he would never commit. It was all Alan's doing. I took a knife and sneaked into the bedroom. In the pitch-black room, I shakily approached the bed. Just as I was about to strike, a hand suddenly landed on my shoulder. A ghastly voice whispered in my ear. "Olivia Miller, are you trying to kill me?"
That night, I was disfigured. He dragged the knife across my face, down to my chest. "If you please me tonight, I won't hit you," he said. I stared at him fiercely, teeth gritted, "You make me sick." He dragged me by my hair to the kitchen, took out a rolling pin, and broke my fingers one by one.