The Cage Wife’s Revenge

Chapter 3

"Milford—how dare you?!"

My voice shook as I called out, "Enid?"

She froze.

Then, slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes met mine—dazed, disbelieving—until they widened in shock.

"Mama? You're back?"

The next second, she collapsed into sobs, her tiny body trembling as if all the fear and pain she'd been holding in finally found an exit.

"Mama… Aunt Malissa locked me in the dog cage. She didn't feed me. And Daddy—he didn't care! I was so scared… the big dog bit me so hard, it hurts. Mama, please get me out…"

That one word—Mama—uttered with such raw desperation, cracked something deep inside me.

But there was no time to cry. The hunting dog was awake now—teeth bared, eyes locked on Enid like she was prey.

I didn't hesitate.

I grabbed the axe in the corner, ignoring the butler's panicked shouts, and brought it down hard on the cage lock.

CLANG.

The chain snapped.

I flung the door open, scooped Enid into my arms, and held her tight.

But I wasn't done.

The dog lunged. And I met it head-on—raising the axe again and swinging with every ounce of fury in me.

One clean, brutal swing—and its head hit the floor with a thud.

The butler gasped, horrified. "Ma'am—no! That was the madam's favorite dog! Mr. Milford gave it to her himself! If you hurt it, she'll be furious—and so will the master!"

Oh? So Milford gifted her a dog… to maul his own daughter?

I didn't even glance at him. I turned back to the cage—the one that had held my child like an animal—and hacked it to splinters.

Milford burst in just then, drawn by the noise. His face twisted in outrage the moment he saw the scene.

"Lori, you just got back and you're already causing a scene? What do you want the guests outside to think?"

"You scared Eddy half to death! He's bawling, and Lisa's been running herself ragged all day. Now she's got to calm him down too. Can't you stop making things worse?"

My laugh came out bitter and sharp.

Eddy, of course. His precious little heir.

"And what about your daughter, Milford?" I snapped. "You feel sorry for your son crying, but not when Enid was locked in a cage? Bitten by a dog? Starving like a stray? Tell me—how sick is that kind of love?"

Milford's eyes finally shifted to Enid. He saw the bloody bite marks, the scratches, the bruises.

His expression twisted in confusion. "What… what are you talking about? Enid's my daughter. I'd never let something like that happen to her."

I froze for a second.

He… really didn't know?

Milford turned sharply to the butler. "Get Lisa. Now."

Malissa came in moments later—already crying.

Of course.

Her timing was perfect. The tears, the trembling voice—it was all a show she'd rehearsed a thousand times.

"Milo, please… Lori misunderstood," she whimpered. "Enid's such a sweetheart. How could I ever hurt her?"

"She begged me to play hide-and-seek earlier," she added, eyes wide with faux innocence. "I was busy with the guests. How could I have guessed she'd lock herself in the dog cage? That girl's got such an imagination…"

Milford's gaze flickered with uncertainty.

I could see him wavering.

Then Malissa played her final card.

She dabbed delicately at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. "Milo… she's just making a scene. I know Enid's upset, but accusing me of this? You think I'd ever harm a child?"

And just like that—Milford snapped.

"Enough," he barked. "This isn't the time or place for drama. Lori, we can talk later. But right now, Lisa and I are celebrating our son. Don't ruin this day."

I stared at him.

Enid was standing right there—shaking, her cheek swelling from a fresh bruise—and he chose her. Again.

Malissa slid her arm through his like the perfect little martyr and murmured just loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm not asking for much… I just want a peaceful home for our baby."

Peaceful? She locked my daughter in a cage.

I hugged Enid tighter, pressing a kiss into her tangled hair. "It's okay, baby. Mama's here now. No one's ever going to hurt you again."

But inside?

I was on fire.

If they wanted peace, they should've thought twice before messing with a mother who had nothing left to lose.