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Wife for Rent Novel Cover

Wife for Rent

The giant screens of Bradley's Group illuminated Ashford daily, flashing the same stark advertisement: "Wife Rental." Just yesterday, the wife of the Bradley family—the woman with the peculiar scale on her temple—had been auctioned off for a million dollars to serve as a drinking proxy. She earned one coin for every glass she finished. For Bradley, this was the only way to torment Stella, the sole balm for the bitter resentment festering in his heart. But he didn’t know. Stella was actually the reincarnation of a wealth-attracting golden koi. Every twisted form of torment he devised for her ultimately transformed into staggering fortune for the Bradley family. Now, fifty glasses of strong liquor stood stacked like a small mountain. Her eyes red, she looked at Bradley and pleaded softly, "Bradley, I’ve... my period just started. Could I—" A cold, mocking smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Drink." Stella closed her eyes in despair. Fifty glasses of fire, one after another, burned down her throat and scorched her insides until they felt like raw, bleeding holes. A hot rush surged between her legs, staining her white dress a vivid crimson. Finally, her phone chimed with the robotic female voice: "Fifty dollars received." Clutching her aching abdomen, she struggled to her feet. The spectacle of her stained dress drew a wave of mocking laughter. "Bradley, how did you train such an obedient little lapdog?" "Wasn't she the one you used to cherish? You almost gave your life to save her once. When did the tables turn so completely?" A single, arrogant lift of Bradley's eyebrow sent a ripple of squeals through the crowd of watching girls. He slowly exhaled a plume of smoke, his laugh cold. "From the moment she pocketed that ransom money and left my sister with the mind of a three-year-old." "Yeah, I might have felt a shred of something real for her back then. But now? Hah." "As for training a lapdog... first, she has to be madly, desperately in love with you." Stella's hand, already on the door handle, froze. Her nails dug deep into her palm. A *shred* of real feeling? During their first year of marriage, he’d change the sheets seven times a night, leaving her too sore to walk the next day. He bought a flawless pink diamond at auction just to have it set into her manicure. Once, she’d offhandedly mentioned the air was dry. The next day, he had the whole of Ashford under artificial rain. When an avalanche struck during a trip, he carried her, hypothermic and limp, running through the night—nearly dying himself in the process... All of that... was just a *shred* of feeling to him? So a person’s heart could change that easily. She glanced back at him. In answer, hetauntingly wrapped an arm around a random woman beside him and kissed her, hard and possessive. Amidst the roaring cheers and applause, Stella wrenched the door open and fled. No tears. No lament. A koi’s transformation was meant to repay a debt, to help the Bradley family amass their fortune. The day her scale fell, she would leave. Since he no longer loved her, it would be easier to go without a backward glance. Later, deep into the drinks, Bradley’s phone rang. It was Kathleen, her voice choked with sobs. His sister was in trouble. Panic seized him. He rushed home to find Reese lying on the floor, covered in blood! He lunged, his hand closing around Stella’s throat and lifting her almost off her feet. "What did you do to her?!" Stella gasped, words strangled, her hands flailing helplessly. Only then did Bradley notice the long, deep gash on Stella’s arm, blood still welling from it. His grip faltered for a second, and he released her. Kathleen helped Reese up, explaining quickly, "The blood is Stella’s. But she just pushed Reese down, Bradley. If you’d been any later, Reese might have..." Reese whimpered, pointing a shaky finger. "Sissy wouldn’t wipe me... Sissy bad!" Bradley followed her finger to the toilet, where a trail of filth stained the bowl and dripped to the floor. "She’s like this because of you! Is wiping her once so hard?!" Rage ignited in his eyes again. Stella laughed, a sound born of sheer, bitter fury. "Wipe her *once*? She told me to use my mouth!" "Bradley, for years I’ve tried to explain! I never took that thousand dollars from the ransom! I didn’t hurt Reese! Why won’t you ever believe me?!" Two years ago, Reese and her best friend Kathleen had been kidnapped. The ransom was five million. Stella had delivered the cash in two suitcases. Somehow, a thousand dollars went missing. Feeling insulted, the kidnappers smashed Reese’s head in. His bright, lovely sister was reduced to a child who couldn’t control her own bladder. Bradley poured all his fury onto Stella. She became his tool for venting rage. At first, for one dollar, anyone could rent her to kneel and polish shoes. For two, she’d scrub your toilet. If you wanted something edgier, a night of suggestive dancing cost only five. Grad
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Chapter 3

Rain sluiced from the heavens when a sharp pain lanced through the sole of her foot.

Bending down, Stella pulled a shard of glass from where it was embedded deep in her flesh. Blood swirled away with the rainwater, the pain sending a shiver through her.

Yet that pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.

She finally shuffled home, step by agonizing step, only to be greeted the moment she crossed the threshold by Reese’s shrill cry. "I want fish! Sister-in-law buy fish!"

Bradley frowned at Stella’s bloodied foot, his eyes flickering with a concern he instantly suppressed. Kathleen, sharp as ever, caught that fleeting change. Feigning gentleness, she coaxed, "Be good, Reese. Your sister-in-law seems to have hurt herself. We’ll have fish another day, alright?"

"No! No fish, no dinner! Wahhh—!"

Playing the part of someone overwhelmed, Kathleen turned to Bradley with a soft suggestion. "Mr. Bradley, perhaps we could take one from the ornamental pond out back? Freshly caught would be more delicious. Reese would love that."

Bradley gave a nod. "All right then."

Stella’s face drained of all color. "No!" Her voice trembled. "Those are ornamental fish—they’re not for eating! I’ll go to the market. I’ll go right now!"

She turned to dash back into the downpour. Those fish were her family.

Years ago, they had been caught in a fisherman’s net, only to be saved by the Bradley family matriarch, Mrs. Eva, a pious woman known for her mercy and vegetarian ways. The kind-hearted old lady had paid a fortune to buy and release them.

Stella had taken human form to repay that debt. Her friends, unable to let her go alone, had insisted on coming with her. In all the years Bradley had hated and tormented her, they had been her only source of warmth.

How could she let anyone harm them?

But Stella’s violent reaction only ignited Bradley’s anger. "It’s just a fish. Are you really that stingy?" Genuine bafflement hardened his eyes. "So what if you fed it? It’s livestock. Is my Reese not worthy of eating it?"

"No! Bradley, please! I’ll buy one, the most expensive one..." Stella begged, terror washing over her.

"Enough!" Bradley lost his patience and barked at a maid. "Go catch one. Now!"

"Don’t touch them!"

Stella lunged toward the backyard like a madwoman, only to be yanked back violently by Bradley. "Tie her up!" he ordered coldly. "Let her watch."

A bodyguard stepped forward and bound her hands. She struggled desperately, but could only watch helplessly as a maid walked toward the backyard with a net, listening soon after to the faint, frantic splashing from the direction of the pond.

Tears blurred her vision.

A brilliant silver koi was lifted from the net, twisting frantically. "Aaron... don’t eat my Aaron!" Stella sobbed, struggling until her wrists were raw and bloody.

Right before her eyes, the maid slammed the fish hard against the ground. Crimson splattered.

When it reappeared, Aaron had been gutted, his flesh sliced thin, his skeleton and head arranged on a bed of ice. As the maid placed the platter on the dining table, the fish’s mouth still opened and closed helplessly.

A wave of nausea hit Stella, her insides knotting in agony.

Kathleen picked up her fork, speared a slice of pink-white flesh, dipped it in sauce, and put it in her mouth. She chewed a few times, frowned, then took a napkin and spat it out. "There’s something off about this fish," she murmured, dabbing her lips. "Rather unpleasant."

Reese mimicked her, popping a piece into her mouth before immediately spitting it out. "Yucky fish! Bad fish!"

A metallic, fishy sweetness surged up Stella’s throat. "Guh—"

A mouthful of blood erupted from her lips. Her vision went black as she lost consciousness completely.

Bradley was so startled his cutlery clattered to the floor. His heart clenched as if pricked by something sharp. Instinctively, he moved to untie her, to take her to the hospital.

But Kathleen suddenly clutched her stomach, her face pale. "My stomach hurts so much... Was that fish not fresh?"

Bradley froze, his gaze darting between Kathleen and the unconscious Stella.

Kathleen curled up in pain. "Mr. Bradley, take me to the hospital..."

He didn’t hesitate further. Scooping Kathleen up, he rushed out the door. "Get the car! To the hospital!"

The roar of the engine faded into the distance, leaving the house in dead silence.

Stella lay on the floor, forgotten.

On the ice platter, the fish’s mouth continued to open and close, ever so slowly.

No one saw the single tear that slid from its clear, glassy eye.

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