The Cage Wife’s Revenge

Chapter 2

That vintage gold ring wasn't just the Wright Clan's symbol for the Lady of the House—it was our engagement ring.

Milford gave it to me the day he proposed, swearing we'd be together forever. He even had "Lori" engraved on the inside to prove he meant it.

But that was a lifetime ago.

Now, my eyes were locked on that same ring—except the engraving had been filed off. In its place was a new name: "Lisa." Short for Malissa.

A sharp pain twisted through my chest. I swallowed hard, the bitterness burning my throat. I was just about to step forward, ready to tell everyone exactly who I was—

When Milford suddenly blocked my path.

His voice was cold. Unrecognizable.

"Lori's dead. This woman is just some beggar. If anyone dares slander Lisa again, they'll answer to me."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief.

"Milford," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Say that again. Look me in the eye. Who am I?"

He hesitated. Just for a moment. His eyes flicked nervously toward the crowd before he leaned in close, lowering his voice.

"Lori… you heard them. If I admit you're alive now, Lisa's reputation will be destroyed. My brother trusted me to protect her—I can't let her be humiliated. You've always been the sensible one… Please. Just bear with this. For me. Be good."

And just like that, he turned away. Didn't even look back.

He waved the butler over and told him to "take care of me"—said they could let me eat the leftovers from the banquet. Called it a favor. Said it might bring his newborn son good luck.

Behind me, the party roared back to life—laughter, cheers, champagne clinking.

Everyone was celebrating them. Milford and Malissa. Calling them a perfect match. Saying they were meant to be.

But all I felt inside was ice.

The old butler, who had served the Wright family for decades, recognized me right away. He quietly brought me clean clothes and escorted me to a guest room to wash up.

But as I stood there, one question kept circling in my head—

Why the guest room?

Before he could stop me, I turned and walked straight toward the master bedroom. I pushed the door open without hesitation.

This had been our room—Milford's and mine.

Now, it was like I'd never existed. Everything had been redone to suit Malissa's taste. The furniture, the colors, even the scent. Our wedding photos were gone. In their place: pictures of him and her, smiling like nothing had ever come before.

The same man who once swore he'd look at our wedding photo every night before bed—even when he turned eighty—had erased me without a trace.

I stood frozen, staring at a photo of Milford and Malissa beaming in each other's arms. The tears slipped down silently, without a sound.

So this was why he never came for me.

Was I just… in the way?

The old butler stood beside me, clearly trying to find the right words, but in the end, he said nothing.

That's when I noticed the baby crib in the corner.

My voice was barely audible. "Where's my daughter? Where is she?"

The butler tensed. He didn't want to answer. But I kept asking. And finally, he gave in.

He told me she was out back. In the shed.

The shed? That freezing, damp place no one ever used?

I ran. My heart pounding, mind racing. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

There, in the middle of that filthy shed, inside a giant dog cage, was my daughter—clutching my memorial tablet like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

She used to be chubby and full of life. Now, she was all skin and bones.

Beside her, a half-grown wolfdog lay asleep, its muzzle stained with blood.

My little girl, once scared of even the tiniest scrape, didn't cry. Didn't flinch.

She crawled toward a rusted food bowl filled with spoiled scraps—and started eating them like it was her only option.

I stood frozen, staring.

Just hours ago, I'd watched Malissa cradling her newborn son, surrounded by warmth and luxury.

And here was my child, locked in a cage with a wolf, starving, covered in bruises so deep you could see the bone.

Hatred surged through my chest like wildfire.