Suffering His Love

Vincent Roberts arrived home just as I had hung up the phone.

Seconds later, there was a gentle knock at the door.

It was the housekeeper, Janice Simpson.

She said, "Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Robert is home."

Coming back to my senses, I stood up, wiped the tears from my face, and said, "Thank you."

As I was about to leave the room, she abruptly said, "Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Robert has..."

She stopped mid-sentence and offered me a sympathetic look.

I smiled at her but averted my eyes.

As expected, I heard a woman's unabashed, charming laughter when I opened the door of Vincent's room.

Based on the sounds they were making, I could tell that they were having sex.

Standing at the door, I observed the scattered clothes on the floor.

Some of the clothes belonged to Vincent, as he favored wearing suits to display his affluence and authority.

The rest of the clothes were a one-piece dress and black lace underwear, which exuded a seductive aura.

Vincent had a penchant for attractive, alluring women who could easily captivate men's attention.

Unfortunately, he found me uninteresting and lackluster, as I had nothing to offer apart from having a wealthy father- which at the time was not the case.

I quietly closed the door and waited outside the room. Two hours later, the sounds ceased, signaling the end of their romance.

Swiftly, I straightened my attire, approached the door, and gently knocked on the door.

Vincent's lazy voice said, "Come in."

I could sense that he was in high spirits.

As long as he didn't lay eyes on me, his mood remained pleasant.

However, I had to disrupt his joyous moment by entering the room.

The bedroom was in disarray, permeated with the scent of cigarettes.

Vincent lay on the bed, the sheets draped over his waist.

He held a beautiful woman with flowing hair. Her skin was delicate and her arms were slender. There was a vivid, lifelike green peafowl tattoo on her back.

Upon my entrance, she smiled as she placed a lit cigarette between Vincent's lips.

Vincent turned his head, squinting through the smoke, and stared at me coldly.

"Darling..." It was the first time in my existence that I sought help, and I had to beg Vincent. "I need your help. My father's company is facing some problems."

Vincent shut his eyes, offering no words in response.

The woman directed a disdainful gaze my way, her charming eyes revealing her contempt.

Undeterred, I pressed on, explaining, "My father requires a cash flow of five hundred million dollars. I know that you have the means to provide it. Of course, we will utilize your money and compensate you with interest... You know we don't go back on our words. Throughout the years, my family has treated you with utmost respect."

Despite the adversities that plagued Vincent's company and our subsequent marriage, my father consistently made efforts to help him.

"Get out!" Vincent spoke finally.

But I couldn't simply leave.

I persisted, pleading, "Darling, please. My father is currently in the hospital. If even you refuse to aid him, I..."

As I spoke, he abruptly grabbed the crystal ashtray from the bedside table and hurled it at me.

I was utterly taken aback. The ashtray narrowly missed my ear, producing a resounding crash as it collided with the door behind me.

I trembled, gazing at him in disbelief.

Vincent opened his eyes and looked at me with a blank expression.

"Get out!" he repeated.

I held my breath.

After a while, I clenched my teeth and sank to my knees.

"Darling..." I found myself uttering words I had never spoken before. "You know that over the past three years, I have never wronged you. I've refrained from making any demands or requests of you. We kindly ask for your help, and rest assured, we will promptly reimburse you for any funds. In the event of smooth company operations, we will expediently refund both the principal and the interest owed to you."

Vincent remained indifferent as he looked at me and said, "Come here."

"I..."

"I said you come closer!" His eyes narrowed slightly, indicating his building anger.

Swiftly, I stood up and approached him cautiously.

He tilted his chin up and gazed at me.

After a moment, he beckoned me over with a finger.

I leaned in, meeting his mocking gaze. He said softly, "I can offer you the money."

I felt elation. "Thank you..."

Before I could finish, he abruptly grabbed my throat.

Suddenly, I couldn't draw a breath. My throat went numb, engulfed in suffocating agony.

My mind spun. Then, I heard his voice. "But you must die!"

Then, he shoved me towards the cabinet.

I collapsed to the floor. My sight blurred, and a numbing weakness enveloped me, nearly causing me to lose consciousness.

A rustling noise broke the silence. Then, the woman asked softly, "Mr. Roberts, who is she?"

"A revolting, foolish swine!" came his reply.

With Janice's help, I managed to stand.

She said, "Mr. Roberts has left."

After thanking her, I returned to my room and swapped into a high-necked coat. Upon descending the stairs, Janice approached me hesitantly, clutching a medicine bottle. "Mrs. Roberts, I found this in your room..."

Her face showed concern, yet she paused, reluctant to speak further.

I took it over with a smile and said, "A friend from another city requested me to purchase it for her family. She mentioned it wasn't available at the local pharmacy there. Do you know about this medicine?"

Janice smiled and said, "Yes. My husband used to take this medicine before he passed away. It startled me to see it in your room just now. I couldn't help but wonder how someone so young could be afflicted by such an illness..."

My smile faltered, and I replied softly, "Please don't worry. I'm doing alright."

I had to be alright.

As I made my way to the hospital, I repeated this to myself.

Upon arrival, the light in the operating room was still on.

In order to avoid further damage to the company, my father's hospitalization remained undisclosed.

Thus, I found myself alone in the deserted hospital hallway.

Feeling a bit lightheaded, I settled onto a nearby bench. I reached into my pocket, took a pill, and swallowed it.

Closing my eyes and resting against the wall, Vincent's ominous words resurfaced in my thoughts.

"But you must die!"

I had met him when I was twenty, and he was twenty-four at the time.

Back then, his company boasted just over a hundred employees.

On that fateful day, he visited the Bailey Group for investment, coinciding with my own visit to see my father at the company.

I was immediately smitten with him.

Finally, he secured the investment and we tied the knot.

But on our wedding night, he disappeared, leaving me alone.

I found him in a hotel, hugging a woman with a peafowl tattoo as they drank together.

This scenario replayed weekly in our house over the past three years.

He constantly demeaned me, mocked me, and insisted I leave whenever he desired.

I believed he never wanted to marry me, that I had manipulated him into marriage.

He had no love for me. He was compelled to take me as his wife.

Desperate to win his affection, I tried everything to please him, hoping to stir his emotions.

But he said that I had to die.

Little did he know, his wish would soon be fulfilled.

Finally, the operating room lights dimmed, and my father was wheeled out.

I rose quickly and trailed them to the ICU, only to be stopped by the doctor. "The patient requires observation, and family members are not permitted in the ICU."

I spent the night at the hospital, similar to how my father stayed during my mother's illness, though my mother didn't make it through back then.

Now, I hoped my father would pull through.

As dawn broke, my sister Elin Bailey arrived.

She immediately asked, "Did your husband agree?"

She was also the CEO of the Bailey Group.

I shook my head.

"Can't you persuade him?" Elin said anxiously. "You've been married for three years. Five hundred million isn't a huge amount for him now!"

"But he..."

"Dad dedicated his entire life to the company. He's given you everything since you were a child!" Elin exclaimed. "Are you going to let the company go under? You need to figure something out!"

This time, instead of heading home, I made my way to Vincent's company office, located in the Oasis Building.

The building was a stunning display of modern architecture, freshly constructed.

I remembered attending its grand opening, Vincent's arm around my waist, a gesture that had once touched me deeply amidst the media frenzy.

However, his demeanor quickly changed afterward, as if he couldn't distance himself from me fast enough.

His office occupied the building's top floor, and I reached the top floor unhindered. But the beautiful female secretary stationed at the office door halted me and said politely, "Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Roberts isn't here."

So, I waited by the door.

Two hours later, the elevator doors slid open.

Vincent emerged, holding the woman with the peafowl tattoo in his arms.

They were engaged in conversation, and the woman seemed amused, letting out giggles.

When they approached, I rose to my feet and called out, "Darling!"

Vincent paused, turning slightly.

His expression remained hidden from my view, but I could discern his attentive posture, indicating that he was listening.

"I need to speak with you privately," I said cautiously, avoiding direct confrontation. "It's regarding our marriage..."

"Get out of here!" His response was laced with irritation and disgust.

"I mean I'm willing to divorce you!" I clarified, thinking he had misunderstood me. As he began to leave again, I rushed to add, "Vincent, I know you never wanted to marry me. Now, I'm willing to..."

Suddenly, Vincent pushed the woman away from him, causing her to scream and fall.

Fear gripped my heart, prompting me to take a few steps back.

But before I could react, I felt a sharp pain in my face as he grabbed my chin forcefully.

His grip was so tight that I couldn't make a sound, and it felt like my jaw was about to break.

"Are you willing to divorce me?" His eyes were cold, his tone ferocious. "Didn't you vow to love me for life? Huh? You can't handle it after such a short time?"

I struggled to speak, but I couldn't open my mouth.

"I won't give you a dime, and I won't divorce you," he continued, his voice dropping as he brushed his nose against my face. Despite the proximity, his hatred burned undiminished. "Kaitlin, the game has just begun. You'll pay for everything you owe me."

With that, he flung me to the floor, swept the woman into his arms, and swaggered into his office.

It took me a while to gather my strength and stand up.

Vincent's secretary approached, gently taking my arm.

"Mrs. Roberts," she said with concern, pointing towards the restroom. "The restroom is over there."

I murmured my thanks and made my way, dragging my left leg. Once inside, I grabbed a few wet tissues and sat down on the toilet.