All Chapters of THE CEO'S MISTREATED WIFE : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

9 Chapters

Chapter 1

"She's nothing. Ignore her." I heard my husband's voice. I should be excited because I've been waiting for him to go home since 2 PM. It's already 7 PM and I'm almost done cooking our dinner. His words hit me like a punch in my stomach, taking the air out of my lungs. I chose to leave what I was doing and walk towards the door to check. Istopped at the kitchen door, my hand shaking as I held the spatula I had been using to make dinner that I hoped he would finally share with me tonight. Upon peeking, I saw my husband and he was not alone. Rogue was kissing a woman in the middle of our living room. He kissed her with a passion that he never showed me. He wouldn't even touch me, as if I had a disease that could get him infected. I saw their kiss turn wild through a blur of hot, stinging tears formed in my eyes. They moved with a wild heat, taking over the space as if I were a ghost haunting my own life. Rogue didn't just forget I was there; he used my presence to humiliate

Chapter 2

I had no idea where Rogue stayed the night. But I already knew the answer: probably tangled up in that woman's sheets. That night, I cried myself to sleep because the pain in my chest was too much to bear. The sun in the morning didn't bring light; it just showed the damage from the night before. I decided to clean the kitchen, as we don't have a maid to do it. The doorbell rang while I was still on my knees, scrubbing the blood and dried curry stains off the kitchen tiles. I didn't even have time to stand in front of my mother-in-law, Lady Beatrice Sterling, and her daughter, Sienna, who is Rogue's younger sister. They looked like kings and queens, with silk, pearls, and a smell of lilies that made them feel like they were at a funeral.Beatrice didn't offer a greeting. She looked down at me, her lip curling in a sneer that made me feel smaller than the dust I was cleaning."Oh, look! The trash is on her knees. At least you finally found a place that fits your kinds, Adeline," she

Chapter 3

As Rogue’s command echoed in the empty kitchen, I was left with the debris of a life I no longer recognized. I cleaned everything—every plate, every stain, every shattered remnant of my pride. When the house finally fell into a haunting silence, I retreated to the master bedroom, clutching a chemical ice pack to my chest like a lifeline.I sat on the edge of the cold bathtub, finally letting the silk robe slip from my shoulders. I couldn't help but pity the woman staring back at me in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed a sickly red, and my eyes were so swollen they felt like lead.The dark circles under them were bruises of a different kind—the mark of a thousand sleepless nights. My skin, once vibrant, was now a ghostly, translucent pale; a side effect of the gilded cage Rogue had built for me. I was a business graduate, a woman of intellect, yet I hadn't felt the sun on my face in weeks.I pressed the ice to my arm, wincing as the cold bit into the purple finger-shaped marks Rogue h

Chapter 4

Feeling completely drained, I decided to sleep off the pain after taking a cold bath. My plan was to wait until the others were finished before heading down to eat. I was eventually jolted from my sleep by a soft, hesitant knock on the door. Still barefoot, I climbed out of bed and quickly fixed my hair before cracking the door open. I was surprised to find the blonde guy standing there. He gave me a small, shy smile as the door opened, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of awkwardness. "U-uh, do you need something?" I asked, unsure why he’d come to my room. "The guys are all passed out; they're pretty drunk," he explained. I stepped back slightly, glancing him over. "You look sober, though," I noted, eyeing him suspiciously. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't drink much. My stomach can’t really handle it anyway." I nodded, though the silence that followed felt heavy. "Anyway, I just came up to say goodbye. I have to head out first." I gave him a small, polite

Chapter 5

The sunlight didn’t just wake me; it executed the morning. It cut through the heavy velvet curtains like a serrated blade, exposing the wreckage of a room that had become a crime scene.I reached out, my fingers trembling as they brushed the cold, expensive silk where Rogue should have been. The space was hollow, retaining none of his heat, only the lingering, oppressive scent of strong vanilla. He was always gone before the shame could settle, leaving me to drown in the suffocating silence of a house that felt less like a home and more like a gilded cage.I tried to sit up, but a jagged, white-hot scream of pain radiated from my core. My thighs are trembling.I collapsed back into the pillows, my breath hitching in a throat that felt like it had been scraped raw. Every muscle was a map of his cruelty—a reminder that he had used me not as a wife, but as a vessel for a rage he couldn’t name and needs he refused to acknowledge.I stayed motionless, staring at the center of the bed. Th

Chapter 6

The stone in my stomach only grew heavier as I drove home. By the time I stepped back into the kitchen, the house felt even more like a mausoleum. I looked at my hands; they were still shaking. I should have stopped. I should have crawled into bed and stayed there until the world ended. But the habit of loving him was a sickness I didn’t know how to cure yet. I told myself that maybe the office was just… work stress. Maybe if I made his favorite—the complex, time-consuming beef bourguignon he used to mention before the marriage became a cage—he would finally see me. I spent four hours in that kitchen. I chopped, I sautéed, I simmered. I burnt my finger on the heavy pot, the skin blistering instantly, but I didn't cry. The physical pain was a grounding wire for the screaming in my head. I set the table with the fine lace runner and the candles we had received as a wedding gift—a gift we had never used. I sat there. I waited. Seven o'clock became nine. Nine became eleven. The can

Chapter 7

The next evening, the silence of the house was shattered not by Rogue’s key in the lock, but by a woman’s high-pitched, melodic laughter. I was in the kitchen, my fingers still bandaged from the burns of the night before, trying to swallow a piece of dry toast. My heart seized. He wasn't alone. Rogue walked into the living room, but he wasn't looking for me. He was focused on the woman draped over his arm—a petite brunette with sharp, cat-like eyes and a dress that cost more than my father’s remaining dignity. This wasn't the woman from the office. This was someone new, someone younger. "Rogue?" I stepped into the doorway, my voice barely a thread. The woman stopped, her eyes raking over my faded apron and the messy bun I hadn't had the energy to fix. She didn't look shocked. She looked amused. "Oh, Rogue... is this the 'staff' you mentioned? She looks a bit... haggard, don't you think?" Rogue didn't even glance at me. He was busy pouring two glasses of crystal-clear gin at the b

Chapter 8

The heavy scent of Sienna’s perfume seemed to curd the air in the kitchen. I stood over the steaming pot of soup, the rising vapor stinging the raw, split skin of my lips. My vision blurred. Each tear that fell hissed as it hit the hot stove. From the dining room, the clinking of silverware mixed with the low, rumbling hum of Rogue’s laughter. It was a sound he used to give to me, lifetimes ago. Now, it was a weapon. "Is it done yet, servant?" Sienna’s voice chimed from the doorway. I turned slowly. She was leaning against the frame, twirling a strand of her hair. My mother’s silk robe hung loosely off her shoulders. She looked at my swollen, discolored cheek and smiled. It was a small, triumphant curve of her lips. "It's ready," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I lifted the heavy ceramic bowl, my bandaged fingers throbbing with agonizing heat under the weight. I walked past her into the dining room, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. Rogue sat at the head of the table. He was

Chapter 9

I thought I would be dealing with pain for hours. The front door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. I lay twisted on the hardwood floor, my knees pulled to my chest as the boiling soup continued to eat through the fabric of my shirt. The blistering heat on my skin felt like molten lead. Every breath I took came out as a ragged, choked sob. I squeezed my eyes shut, my blood-stained fingers weakly crushing the hundred-dollar bills Rogue had thrown at me. Just let me faint, I prayed to the empty room. Please, just let me lose consciousness. Instead, the agony only sharpened. I was trapped in my own burning body, staring at the shattered ceramic shards and the dark puddle of broth mixing with my own blood. Then, the heavy front door clicked again. Panic flared through my chest. Had they come back? Had Rogue forgotten something, only to return and kick me while I was down? I tried to crawl backward, to hide beneath the shadow of the dining table

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