The Cage Wife’s Revenge

Chapter 6

The store clerks always swooned, their admiration thick as syrup.

"Oh my gosh—Mr. and Mrs. Wright," one of them gushed, "you two look like a match made in heaven. And the way you treat your housemaid like family? That's real love. I hope your marriage lasts forever!"

I bit my tongue and smiled, even as every word cut like glass.

But fate had other plans for our ride home.

Halfway there, the car was suddenly surrounded—dozens of masked bikers on roaring motorcycles boxed us in, kicking up gravel like a damn hurricane. They forced the driver to stop, then smashed the windows with crowbars and swarmed us like a pack of wolves.

This wasn't some random hit.

They were here for Milford.

Their leader leaned through the shattered glass, voice low and razor-sharp.

"Fifteen million. In cash. Now."

Milford, still trying to play it cool, adjusted his jacket like we weren't about to die.

"Fifteen mil? Please. That's pocket change. But cash takes time. Let us go and I'll wire it. Or go get it myself."

The guy scoffed. "Don't insult us, Mr. Wright. We know how this game works. Word is, you're getting married soon. So tell me—"

His eyes flicked from me to Malissa, a cruel grin spreading.

"Which one of them's the lucky bride?"

Then his voice turned cold.

"Leave one behind. We'll hold her as insurance. Try anything funny… we take a finger. Every hour, another one."

Malissa and I both looked at Milford.

These men weren't bluffing. You could smell it on them—desperation, danger, the kind of people who had nothing left to lose.

Milford hesitated. You could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes—fear, calculation, self-preservation.

Then he grabbed me by the arm and shoved me forward.

"It's her," he said flatly. "She's my fiancée. Check the photos online. Same face."

I stumbled, stunned.

He'd been showing off my pictures like a proud fiancé… not out of love. No. He'd been setting me up.

A shield.

For Malissa.

The gang didn't waste time. One of them yanked my hand up and, without a word, sliced clean through one of my fingers.

Blood exploded. My vision blurred.

But I didn't stop staring at Milford.

"Are you sure you won't regret this?" I asked, voice shaking.

Milford flinched. He couldn't meet my eyes.

"Lisa… she's got no one else. I promised I'd protect her," he said, like he was the damn hero in this story. "Just hang in there. I'll get the money. I'll come back."

Then he turned, took Malissa by the hand, and walked away.

She didn't look back.

I sat there, stunned, as the pain in my hand battled the agony in my chest. Years of marriage. The promises. The child. All of it—shattered in seconds.

Two hours later, I was down three fingers.

The gang leader's patience snapped. He sent a guy to check on Milford.

He returned, furious.

"Boss, that bastard played us. I went to the house—asked the butler where Mr. Wright was, and get this… he says, 'He's busy putting his wife to sleep.' His wife."

He pointed at me, disgusted.

"This one's not the fiancée. She's the goddamn decoy. The real one's the chick he left with."

My whole body trembled—not just from blood loss, but betrayal.

The gang leader exploded.

"You lying bitch!" he roared, yanking my hair back so hard I saw stars. "Think you can play me? I should slit your throat right now!"

He pressed the blade to my neck.

And then—finally—Milford showed up.

Not with the money.

With a private army.

His men stormed in, took the gang down in minutes.

So that's where he'd been. Not getting help. Not saving me.

Just… putting Malissa to bed.

The ride back was silent—except for him awkwardly wrapping gauze around my mutilated hand.

Then he sighed, like he was the one who'd suffered.

"Lon, I know this was hard. But Lisa… she's fragile. She couldn't have handled this. If anything had happened to her, I couldn't face my brother in the afterlife. You get that, right?"

I was too tired to argue. Too numb to care.

I waved him off. My voice was flat. "Don't bother. I get it. I won't take it personally."

His eyes lit up like I'd just praised him.

"That's what I love about you, Lori. You're always so understanding."

"Once the wedding's over," he added, "I'll handle those guys. You and Enid won't ever be in danger again."

I didn't ask who he was doing it for.

We both knew the answer.

The morning of the wedding, just before he left, Milford took my hand gently.

"Lori," he said, "thank you. Once this is all over, I'll take you and Enid on a trip. Just the three of us. Somewhere quiet."

I smiled and reached up to straighten his collar.

"Sure," I said. "Now go. Don't keep your dear sister-in-law waiting."

He paused—surprised. Maybe suspicious.

He didn't expect me to be this calm.

After all the fights over Malissa?

But he shrugged it off. Smiled. And walked out the door in his crisp suit, like he wasn't leaving behind a trail of blood.

I watched him go and thought—yeah. It's time.

Enid and I are leaving.

Back at the hotel, the ceremony was in full swing.

The officiant's voice rang out:

"Mr. Wright, do you take Miss Malissa to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Milford opened his mouth to speak—

but the doors slammed open.

The old family butler burst in, pale and gasping.

"Sir—something terrible's happened! Right after you left, those men… they came back. More of them. They stormed the house. Took the madam and the young miss."

The room froze.

"They sent a video," the butler choked, voice shaking. "They… they've been killed."