Wife for Rent

Time lost all meaning. When Stella finally opened her eyes, the maids had already cleared the dining table—not a single fish bone remained.

Aaron.

A sharp, physical pain stabbed through her heart. Scrambling up, she ignored the sting in her soles and ran for the backyard.

Her friends huddled together in a terrified mass in the corner of the pond, churning the water into a froth.

Eyes burning, Stella scooped them out one by one into a bucket.

She had to get them out of here. Now. Somewhere Bradley could never find them.

*Stella... where’s Aaron?* their silent questions seemed to plead.

She had no answer.

Tears blurred her vision, falling into the water over and over.

She remembered when she’d first married into the family. Bradley had rolled up his sleeves and helped her set up this pond himself.

Carefully placing each fish into the water, he’d smiled and said he was just *loving the owner, loving the pets.*

That winter had been especially bitter. Worried they’d freeze, he’d bought the best aquarium heater himself, jumped into the icy water to install it, and hit his forehead on a decorative rock—raising a huge bump.

He’d clumsily built a snow canopy, getting covered in dust. When he finished, all he’d asked for was a single kiss as his reward.

*What Stella loves, I cherish.*

The words still echoed. The scene was the same, but everything else had changed.

Now, he saw them as meat on a plate—lives he could snuff out on a whim.

Her voice choked. “I’m sorry... I couldn’t protect Aaron. But I swear, I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Her reflection wavered in the water’s surface. The scale at her temple had darkened another shade.

Carrying the bucket to a hidden spot, she gently stroked their fins.

“Stella, give up on this debt. Come back to our world with us, please?” her friends pleaded.

She shook her head, wiping her tears away.

“Just three more things. The debt will be paid. Wait for me. We’ll be together again.”

That night, she didn’t go home. She stayed with her friends, talking until dawn.

By the time she returned to the villa, Bradley was back—with a perfectly unharmed Kathleen by his side.

“What’s the Wife Rental Contract for today?” she asked from behind him, her voice unnervingly calm.

Bradley froze mid-motion, turning to stare at her in surprise.

There was no hatred on her face. No grief. As if yesterday had never happened.

He frowned, an inexplicable irritation twisting inside him. “You fainted yesterday. I didn’t post a contract.”

Was she actually asking for one? Did she *like* these degrading tasks?

“I’m fine now. I can take a contract.” Stella’s tone remained flat. Detached.

That detachment was the final straw.

“You’re that desperate to please me?” He took a menacing step forward, his voice low with suppressed rage. “Even if you do this, I will never love you again! Do you understand?!”

He hurled the words like daggers, trying to wound her, but Stella stood there, numb as a puppet.

Kathleen, standing beside him, gently looped her arm through his. “I heard that Mr. Charles down in Southport is hiring a maid. High salary.”

Bradley’s expression shifted.

That cripple Charles. His… particular tastes were an open secret in their circles. Maids who entered his house either came out dead or maimed. Few survived.

He opened his mouth to refuse on instinct.

“I’ll go. I can go now.” Stella didn’t hesitate for a second.

Bradley stared at her, disbelief warring with something darker.

Was she *that* desperate?

To please him, she’d throw away her last shred of dignity?

Stella didn’t look at him again. Turning, she walked toward the servants’ quarters and calmly changed into a maid’s uniform.

Watching her slender, retreating back, a strange, clawing panic seized Bradley.

He snatched up his car keys. He’d drive her there himself. At least he could talk to that cripple, tell him to just scare her a little.

But by the time he rushed to the front door, Stella was already gone.

Kathleen wrapped her arms around him from behind, her voice a soothing murmur. “Don’t worry, Bradley. Everyone knows Stella is yours. It’s just a novelty for him. He won’t do anything serious.”

“I’ll have my secretary call Mr. Charles later. Tell him to keep it… light.”

Bradley took a steadying breath, forcing the tension from his shoulders.

Just then, a maid’s startled cry came from the backyard, laced with panic.

“The fish in the pond! They’re all gone! Mr. Bradley will have me beaten if he finds out!”

Another maid whispered a quick addition: “Madam moved them as soon as she woke up. I saw her do it.”

Bradley’s breath hitched. His fist clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

Moved them overnight?!

For a few worthless fish, she dared to defy him like this?!

Rage, mixed with a sudden, gut-wrenching sense of abandonment, detonated inside him.

He whirled on Kathleen, roaring, “Find them! Now! I want to know where she took those damned fish! Turn Ashford upside down if you have to!”

He was going to find out just how important those miserable creatures really were to her.