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My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt Novel Cover

My Wife's Face Is Inked on His Butt

Tattoo artist Mr. Clarke is accustomed to strange requests, but a young man’s plea to remove ink from his backside is a first. The client, visibly distraught, explains that he discovered his girlfriend is actually a married woman and wants her image gone. However, when the man exposes the tattoo, Clarke is paralyzed by a shocking revelation. The portrait staring back at him from the stranger's skin is his own wife, Annie Sylvester, turning a professional job into a personal nightmare.
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Chapter 3

Before I could even process Annie's words, two bodyguards burst in, yanked the covers off me, and hauled me upright.

"Let go of me!" I shouted, struggling with everything I had. "What the hell are you doing, Annie?"

Annie simply cast a cold, piercing look at me and ordered, "Take him away."

In the dead of winter, nearly bare-chested, I was dragged out of the villa like a discarded carpet and shoved into a car. The vehicle sped through the night until it pulled up at the city's most expensive private hospital.

Inside a VIP suite, Hudson lay weakly on the bed, hooked up to an IV. The moment he saw me, his eyes grew red and teary. "Annie, he did this on purpose! He's jealous of me! The laser settings were too high! He burned my skin!"

He sobbed. "Now, the doctor says my wound is seriously infected… Will I be scarred forever?"

Annie held him close, her eyes cutting into me as if I were a monster. "You've gone too far, Luther!"

I suppressed the rising nausea in my chest and bit back coldly, "All the equipment I used was thoroughly sterilized, and the laser settings adhered to protocol. There is no way the removal caused that. He's framing me."

Annie knew my character well enough that a flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes. Hudson noticed it instantly. He snatched the IV bottle from the stand and hurled it at me.

A dull thud echoed through the room. The glass bottle hit me squarely between the eyes. Stars exploded in my vision, and blood instantly smeared across my face.

Annie gasped and lunged to Hudson's side, anxiously checking his hand. "Are you crazy? You could've hurt yourself!"

He cried even harder, shoving her away. "And you're still defending him! I knew you cared about him! Annie, we're done! I'm breaking up with you now!"

He bellowed as he swung his legs off the bed, making a show of trying to storm out.

"Alright, enough!" Annie cooed, clutching him tightly and whispering in his ear, "I'll make this right, okay? Stop being mad."

She patted Hudson's back soothingly, then turned to me, speaking as if I were her sworn enemy. "As you can see, he's devastated. You'll have to take the hit this time, Luther."

With that, she gestured to the bodyguards outside. "Break his right hand. Consider it an apology to Hudson."

My eyes snapped wide. I was known in the industry as a master tattoo artist. By giving that order, Annie was destroying my entire livelihood.

Two bodyguards stepped forward, one on each side, pinning me in place. I struggled and shouted with all my strength, but it was futile. One of them ultimately seized my right wrist.

From the hospital bed, Hudson shot me a triumphant look.

"No… N-No…"

My voice trembled with terror, but no one cared. A second later, a searing pain erupted from my wrist. The sound of a bone snapping echoed through the quiet room.

My right hand hung limply at an unnatural angle. Agony blurred my vision. My body went into spasms until I could no longer hold myself up. The next thing I knew, I collapsed onto the cold floor.

The system's voice arrived at the perfect moment.

[Primary Torture Quest: Bone-Shattering Agony—Completed. Countdown: 23:58:10]

"Hang in there, Luther," the system added. "Everything ends tomorrow."

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I was almost at the end.

Seeing the extent of my pain, Annie finally showed a flicker of impatience. She frowned and waved her hand dismissively. "Alright, that's enough. Take him next door to get it bandaged. Wouldn't want him to die here."

The bodyguards obeyed, hoisting me up. However, once we reached a blind spot for the surveillance cameras, their expressions darkened. Instead of the clinic, they dragged me toward a storage room in the basement parking lot.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked anxiously.

Seeing the fear on my face, they grinned maliciously. "You'll find out soon enough."

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