The Cruel Wife

A Father's Helpless Rage

Ash's arm began to twitch uncontrollably, but he refused to cry. He lifted his swollen eyes and glared fiercely at the impeccably dressed Skye Whitley. "My dad's not a scum. He's the best dad in the whole world. You're the bad guy—I won't let you hurt him!" Then he bit down hard on Skye's leg, thinking it would make him pull away.

Already furious, Skye completely lost his temper. He kicked out with his leather shoe, driving it hard into Ash's fragile stomach. "You little bastard!"

I roared and threw myself forward, desperate to shield my son, but he passed straight through me and slammed into the wall, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Even then, he didn't cry. He stubbornly stretched out his small hand, groping across the floor. "B-Blanket… Daddy needs a blanket…"

Skye wasn't finished. He set down the dog in his arms and stepped toward Ash, raising his hand for another blow.

"Skye?"

Eira's shocked voice suddenly rang out, freezing everyone in place.

Ash's dim eyes lit up instantly. He parted his bloodied lips and whispered, "Mom…"

Eira hurried forward, but Skye turned and blocked her with an outstretched arm. "Eira, I was just looking for you."

He gestured for the bodyguards to stand in front of Ash, then pulled Eira into his embrace with a practiced smile. Eira frowned, sensing something was wrong. "Skye, is that Ash on the floor? Did you hit him?"

A flash crossed Skye's eyes before he forced tears into them. "Eira, I'm sorry. You weren't here, and Ash… I don't know who put him up to it, but he came to the ward and yelled at me for a long time. I didn't want to argue, but then he suddenly rammed into me for no reason. You know I just had surgery. The doctor said…"

Eira turned grim, and her suspicion turned into anger. "Howard really doesn't know how to raise a child anymore. You're already in fragile health. If he causes you any lasting harm, I won't let them off."

I stood in front of Eira, frantically trying to explain. 'No, Ash didn't do anything! He's a good boy! Skye's lying to you!'

Ash seemed to hear her words too. Despite the pain, he called out, "Mom–"

Alas, the bodyguard clamped a hand over his mouth before he could barely begin.

Eira froze mid-step, glancing back. "Was that Ash calling me?"

Skye's face twisted briefly before he let go of her arm with a pained sigh. "Go to him if you want. I'm fine. Even though he was the reason I had that heart attack before—almost cost me my life—I forgive him. He's just a child."

His words erased the last trace of hesitation in her eyes. Eira's voice turned cold. "Since his father can't teach him, Skye, I'll leave the discipline to you. Spare the rod, spoil the child. If you don't correct him now, Howard will only raise him worse. I'll wait for you upstairs."

As she walked away, Ash began struggling harder, but it only earned him more slaps. Skye struck him again and again—his tiny face swollen, his lips split and bleeding. Still, he clung stubbornly to the blanket in his arms.

Still not finished, Skye dragged a sharp nail across the corner of Ash's eye. "Little bastard. Just as filthy as your father."

I went mad. I tried to choke him, but my hands passed through him. I dropped to my knees, banging my head against the floor, begging him to show mercy, to remember that Ash was only a child. But nothing worked.

Hatred burned through me—hatred for Skye, hatred for my own helplessness, hatred for dying too soon to protect my son.

The beating didn't stop until Skye's dog finally barked.