My husband repeatedly sla:pped me in the face over a trivial matter. The next morning, he saw a lavish feast and said, “It’s good that you’ve finally come to your senses!” But he panicked and nearly fainted from shock after seeing the guests seated at the table… — Part 2

One to my lawyer.

One to the bank.

And one connected to Daniel’s greatest mistake….

Part 2

By six the next morning, I was already cooking.

The entire house smelled like roasted duck, garlic butter, honey-glazed carrots, fresh bread, cinnamon apples, and expensive coffee—the exact brand Daniel preferred. Silver utensils gleamed across the twelve-seat dining table while crystal glasses reflected the pale morning sunlight.

Evelyn came downstairs first, wrapped in pearls and superiority.

Her eyes widened before her mouth curled with satisfaction.

“Well,” she said smoothly. “Pain really can teach valuable lessons.”

I set a porcelain bowl onto the table. “Good morning, Evelyn.”

She blinked when I used her name instead of calling her Mother.

Ten minutes later, Daniel appeared wearing a navy robe, damp hair, and the smug expression of a man convinced he owned the world. He paused in the doorway, staring at the feast like a king returning to tribute.

His eyes slid from my bruised cheek to the table.

Then he smiled.

“It’s good that you’ve finally come to your senses!”

Evelyn laughed softly. “See? She understands her place now.”

I poured coffee into Daniel’s cup.

He sat at the head of the table exactly where I wanted him. “You should’ve behaved like this years ago. Marriage would’ve been much easier.”

“For who?” I asked calmly.

His smile tightened. “Watch yourself.”

Before he could continue, the doorbell rang.

Daniel frowned. “Were you expecting someone?”

“Yes.”

Evelyn stiffened. “At breakfast?”

“Guests,” I replied.

Daniel leaned back in his chair. “Fine. Let them witness how obedient you’ve become.”

I walked to the front door and opened it.

Margaret Voss, my lawyer, entered first in a razor-sharp gray suit. Behind her stood two uniformed police officers. Then came Mr. Hale from the bank. Then Victor, Daniel’s business partner, pale and sweating. Finally came Lena—the woman Daniel once dismissed as “just an assistant”—clutching a folder against her chest like armor.

Daniel’s expression went blank.

“What the hell is this?” he barked.

I gestured toward the dining room. “Breakfast.”

Nobody smiled.

Margaret sat beside me. The officers stayed standing. Mr. Hale opened his briefcase. Victor avoided eye contact entirely. Lena’s hands trembled as she slowly sat down.

Evelyn’s pearls rattled softly against her throat. “Daniel, tell these people to leave.”

Daniel shoved his chair backward. “Everyone out. Right now.”

One officer stepped forward. “Mr. Mercer, sit down.”

Daniel froze.

For the first time in years, nobody obeyed him.

I placed a tablet at the center of the table and pressed play.

His voice filled the room.

“Tomorrow morning, I want breakfast ready. A real one. No attitude. No cold face.”

Then came the sound of the slap.

Evelyn’s smile vanished instantly.

A second recording played. Evelyn’s voice echoed through the dining room, cold and cruel: “A wife must be corrected early.”

Daniel lunged toward the tablet, but the officer grabbed his wrist before he could touch it.

Continue to Part 3 Part 2 of 3

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