The Cage Wife’s Revenge

Chapter 1

After marrying into the infamous Wright crime family as Milford's second wife, I was his partner in name only. Everyone knew who he truly loved—his widowed sister-in-law, Malissa.

He always called me the perfect wife. The ideal hostess. At his parties, I'd take shot after shot of liquor to protect his image. But when Malissa so much as sipped a glass of fruit wine offered by another man, Milford sliced the guy's hand clean off—no hesitation.

He flaunted my pictures like trophies, telling the world how stunning I was. But Malissa? He hid her away like some sacred secret. Untouchable. Priceless. Hidden.

Then one of my photos leaked.

His enemies saw it. I was kidnapped.

I called him, desperate, sobbing, praying he'd come for me.

He said, "Lori... Malissa's pregnant now—with my brother's only heir. I have to stay by her side. She needs me."

"You'll just have to hang in there a few more days. Once her morning sickness passes, I'll come get you."

He never did.

For a full year, I was tortured—violated over a thousand times. They shattered my leg. Broke my spirit. Left me to rot.

He never came.

When I finally escaped—bloodied, filthy, half-alive—I crawled home… only to find my daughter locked in a dog cage. Starving. Covered in bruises. Eating scraps off the floor.

She clutched a framed photo of me—my memorial. They'd declared me dead.

And Milford? He was throwing a lavish party, celebrating the one-month birthday of his son with Malissa. Beaming with pride. Announcing their wedding.

I held my daughter close as her frail body trembled. Through tears, I whispered, "Sweetheart, you don't need that kind of father. Not anymore."

Three days before the wedding, I stormed into the Wright estate's private courtyard.

Milford was standing there, gently slipping a vintage gold ring onto Malissa's finger—the same heirloom ring passed down for generations. The symbol of the Lady of the House.

He'd just announced the wedding.

Malissa, cradling her newborn son, leaned into his chest with a sweet, bashful smile. The perfect picture of a glowing mother in love.

Milford turned to the crowd, smiling.

And then—he saw me.

Even caked in blood, barefoot, my face almost unrecognizable… he knew.

His eyes widened. For a split second, pure joy lit up his face. The kind I hadn't seen in years.

"Lor—"

But Malissa's hand tightened on his sleeve. Her voice soft, trembling. "Milo…" Just one word. But it was enough.

He froze.

Whatever memory was surging in his chest, whatever name was about to leave his lips… died on his tongue.

The joy in his eyes dimmed. Guilt. Confusion. Then—fear.

The guests had been laughing, drinking, celebrating.

Now?

Silence.

People turned to look at me. Their smiles dropped. Someone muttered, "Who let a filthy lunatic in here? This is supposed to be a celebration—not some damn horror show."

Another voice, louder: "Wait… doesn't she look like Lorraine? Didn't Milo say she died last year?"

"Wasn't she kidnapped by enemies? He said he mourned her for months. Thank God Malissa was there for him. They fell in love… had a baby… finally found happiness."

I almost laughed.

Dead? Hilarious. Apparently, I'd died and no one told me.

The whispers were spreading like wildfire.

"Is that really Lorraine?"

"If she's alive… then doesn't that make Malissa the other woman?"

"She slept with her brother-in-law while his wife was still alive…"

The words hit Malissa like a slap. Her face turned ghost-white. Her eyes darted to mine, filled with barely concealed hatred.

Tears welled in her eyes as she shakily reached for the jade ring on her finger, her voice cracking like she'd rehearsed it in front of a mirror.

"If this is what everyone thinks… then I don't want the ring anymore. Call off the wedding. I'm just a widow. I never meant to ruin anything. I just wanted to be there for you… for the baby… that's all I ever needed."

Milford's heart broke right on cue. He grabbed her hand, gently slid the ring back on her finger, his voice low and full of fake tenderness.

"Lisa, don't say that. You gave the Wrights a son—an heir. You've done more for this family than anyone. That ring… that title… they belong to you."

I stood there. Frozen. Stunned.

Milford, you once told me our daughter was the only rightful heir of the Wright legacy.

And now you were giving away my place. My title. My family.

To her.