MY EX-HUSBAND'S OBSESSION

The bedroom door was gently knocked twice. "Madam, Mr. Marion Roger is returning home today. It's time for you to get up," a warm female voice reminded from outside the door. On the spacious and white treca bed, My eyelashes fluttered like raven feathers. I blinked my eyes and shifted as I heard the voice, and the champagne-coloured silk sheet slid down to my waist, revealing a startlingly dense array of kiss marks on my upper body. It had been four days since our last intimate encounter, but the marks showed no sign of fading, ranging from purples to blues, spreading from behind my ears to my thighs but It still hurt. I touched the buries, and a hissing sound left from my lips. When Marion had been in bed, he had been furious like a wild animal. Each time he finished, I didn't have energy and my slander body fell seriously ill. The last time had been particularly intense; I had hardly slept all night. Marion had a habit of being cruel; whenever he was about to fall asleep, he would exert himself, and the more I begged and cried for mercy, the more excited Marion would become. Because of this, in the days since Marion Roger had left, My physical condition had been poor. I couldn't seem to get enough rest, sometimes sleeping until mid-morning and only getting up close to lunchtime. When I try get accumulate my all strength, then again under Marion it gets scattered. My thoughts snapped with a loud knock on the door. There was no movement in the room, and the person outside the door reminded once more, "Madam." I sighed and finally struggled to open my eyes. I checked the time; it had just passed seven in the morning. "yes" I sat up in bed and responded. After taking a shower in the bathroom, the person who had been outside the door had already come up with a stylist, carrying a set of White pearl-neck dresses that is the latest limited collection of faa famous international brands. I took the clothes and thanked them before heading to the dressing room to change. When I came out, the stylist was busy with some tools. I quietly sat down, allowing the stylist to work on my hair and face. This scene was all too familiar. Every time Marion Roger returned home, it was like this. My position in the Roger household was more like an exquisite and pretty doll for Marion Roger to admire than a Marion Roger's wife. People outside would say I am excellent and virtuous, deeply favoured by Marion Roger, but that was just a facade. I never had my own thoughts; I just had to be obedient. Whatever Marion Roger organized, I would do it. Playing the role of "Roger's wife" was all I needed to do. When I look in the mirror. I don't recognize myself because I am not Clara Smith, I am just Marion's wife. The young man standing beside me was called Dena, the steward's adopted daughter, who had always been by my side, taking care of my daily life and needs, arranging everything since the day I arrived here. After tidying up my hairstyle, Dena said, "Madam, Mr. Roger is returning home at nine today, so breakfast is delayed by an hour. If you're hungry, I can bring you some snacks to fill your stomach." I tightly pressed my lips and replied, "No need, I'll have breakfast together." Dena hesitated for a moment and then continued, "Okay, then. Mr Roger has arranged a wine-tasting class and a jewellery appreciation class for you..." "Have the teachers arrived?" "Yes." "Then I'll attend later." Dena hesitated for a moment and said, "Today, it might be better to change the location." "Hmm?" "They are arranging a bath and meal for the Prince (Dog) in the garden, and it needs to finish before Mr Roger returns, so... it would be best for you to have your lessons indoors today, Madam." As soon as I heard the word "Prince," my body stiffened. The Prince was a purebred Snow Mastiff raised by Marion Roger. It had cost nearly a million, and its value equalled everyone in the Roger household combined. No one dared to neglect it in the slightest. However, the Prince had a fierce and violent temperament. Only Marion Roger could control it in the entire Roger household. I was already afraid of dogs, and I rarely even touched the non-aggressive teacup poodle owned by her in-laws, let alone a large mastiff-like this. Anywhere the Prince was, I never went there. Dena had good intentions, and I said, "Alright, I'll have my lessons in the living room." After getting ready, I looked up it was already eight o'clock. When I went downstairs, there were already two teachers sitting on the sofa. The wine-tasting teacher's last name was Mr. Knight and the jewellery-appreciation teacher's last name was Mr.Joe. The two of them were old acquaintances, so they often came together for lessons, with one teaching and the other listening.