My Husband Gave His Mistress My Skin and Freedom

"Apologize?" I raised my head, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"Shouldn't you be the one apologizing? You knew the coffee was scalding hot and still pushed Karla to drink it, just because you were angry about losing the peace charm. I'm well aware of your warped sense of justice."

"Apologize to Karla and make things right, or you're out of here tonight."

Warped sense of justice, indeed.

Nine years of marriage, and every time he was upset, he forced me to grovel, demanding apologies and compensation.

Accusations without proof.

Just because he claims my heart is twisted.

Outside, a storm raged, and the nearest car was miles away from this secluded mansion. Going out meant braving a night in the torrential rain.

Tears threatened to fall, but I swallowed the pain and dug my nails into my palms until I felt blood as I slowly stood up.

"Fine, I'll apologize."

Apologize to Karla Reed.

I dried her skin with my own hands.

I applied the burn ointment myself.

Afterward, I gazed numbly at Carmelo.

"Anything else you want me to do? You've given all your orders, haven't you?"

My demeanor had completely shifted. Even Carmelo seemed momentarily taken aback.

His eyelashes flickered, his lips parted as if he was about to say something, but Karla groaned, capturing his attention.

When he looked at me again, his eyes were icy.

"Get out."

As Carmelo's voice echoed, I turned and walked back to the bedroom.

Once there, I began to pack my bags.

Though I was leaving tomorrow, I couldn't stand another moment here.

I booked a room at a nearby hotel and packed the essentials into my suitcase.

Just as I was about to leave, the door swung open from the outside.

Carmelo stood in the doorway, his gaze stormy, his voice cold.

"Hurt someone and then plan to run away?"

I frowned, not responding.

Before I could process his meaning, two bodyguards appeared behind him, seizing my arms without a word.

Carmelo instructed them to gag and bind me, dragging me to the hospital.

At the entrance to the ward, I heard Karla's sobs.

Dr. Spencer was waiting by the door and quickly briefed Carmelo as he arrived.

"Mr. Hicks, the excessive application of ointment has worsened Miss Reed's skin condition on her legs. A skin graft is necessary, or she'll have permanent scars."

"Then use a skin graft, with her skin."

Carmelo said coldly, pulling the cloth from my mouth and pushing me toward Dr. Spencer.

"You used the wrong ointment on purpose instead of burn ointment on Karla. Her skin's ruined because of you. You fix it."

I finally understood the situation.

Agreeing to apologize to Karla only played into her scheme.

"Carmelo, I did nothing wrong."

"I applied burn ointment on her, I..."

Before I could finish, Carmelo’s impatience was palpable.

"You think I'd believe you?"

He waved his hand, and I was shoved into the operating room.

Before the procedure, the test results came back, and Dr. Spencer looked concerned.

"Your heart rhythm… isn't stable. We can't use anesthesia..."

Weakness overwhelmed me, and I shut my eyes in exhaustion.

"Just do it."

During the surgery, I suddenly heard Carmelo's urgent voice outside the door.

Two hours later, I was wheeled out.

The pain was so intense, I trembled uncontrollably, sweat streaming down my forehead.

In the ward, Carmelo's eyes showed a rare hint of regret.

"Is the anesthesia wearing off already? Why are you in such pain?"

He draped his suit jacket over me and reached for a tissue to wipe my sweat.

I turned my head away, offering no explanations.

Carmelo's fingers hung in mid-air, his eyes briefly vacant.

Then anger flared up in his gaze.

"What's with the attitude?"

"If it weren't for you—"

Before he could finish, the door opened again, and Karla was brought in.

"Carmelo, I’m in so much pain..."

Carmelo rushed to her side, comforting her in soft tones.

Listening to their intimate exchange from the next bed, I felt colder and colder, my heart pounding uncontrollably until everything went black, and I passed out.