Seven Years of Torture by My Husband Since the Fire

chapter 1

My name is Jade Thomas. I've been married to Zachary Stewart for seven years, and he's been cold to me for all seven years.

Every wedding anniversary, he forces me to kneel all night in front of my sister Yvonne's sickbed to repent.

All because seven years ago, on the eve of Yvonne's wedding to him, a sudden fire broke out at home.

She became a vegetative state trying to save me.

And I, under my family's arrangement, replaced her and married Zachary.

Zachary blames me for ruining his lover and has tortured me nonstop for seven years, bringing different women home to humiliate me.

On the eve of our seventh wedding anniversary, my dog Max, whom I had raised for five years, was in a car accident. I rushed to claim him and take him to the hospital for emergency treatment.

He thought I was trying to escape and forcibly sent people to drag me into the same ward, pressing me to kneel by the bedside and repent.

At that moment, I was completely hopeless.

I asked him, "If I can wake Yvonne up, will you let me go?"

He was stunned for a moment, then let out a cold laugh, as if he had heard an absurd joke.

He said, "Yvonne has been in a coma for seven years. The most authoritative experts in the field have said she can't wake up.

"What ability do you have to make her open her eyes again?"

He kicked me in the back, forcing me to lower my head toward the patient on the bed.

He shouted angrily, "You're the one who made her like this. How dare you say such irresponsible things in front of her?"

"Apologize to her!"

I curled up on the ground, enduring the pain as I searched for a document on my phone.

That was Gavin Howard, a highly respected professor abroad.

With his surgery, there's an 80% chance a vegetative patient could wake up.

Zachary was slightly stunned, but soon, a coldness reappeared in his eyes.

He let out a cold snort. "If such an expert really exists, do you think I wouldn't have found out in these years?"

"You dare to bring up such fabricated nonsense just to shirk responsibility?"

"Do you have to drive Yvonne to her death before you're satisfied?"

He roared angrily and kicked me hard in the stomach.

Agonizing pain swept through my body instantly. I curled up, lying on the ground like a dog.

I realized he had already decided that Yvonne would never wake up.

He was also convinced that everything I did was just to harm her.

So no matter what I said, he didn't believe me.

So I gave up explaining, got up as he ordered, and knelt again by the bedside.

He no longer looked at me, sitting by Yvonne's bedside, talking to her for a long time.

He spoke of his love for her, saying he would always seek justice for her, telling her not to worry and to rest peacefully.

After speaking, he left alone, locking me in the ward.

It wasn't until three days later that he had someone open the door and let me out.

By then, I had collapsed on the floor, my face pale, and my knees covered in bruises.

Zachary frowned, a hint of softness flashing in his eyes.

But when he saw Yvonne on the hospital bed, that softness vanished instantly.

He signaled the nurse to wake me up.

As soon as I woke up, I heard his reprimand. "I only made you kneel and repent, I didn't abuse you. Why are you pretending to be weak?"

I didn't respond, struggled to get up from the floor, and limped out of the ward.

He suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Didn't you say you wanted to see Max? I'll take you there."

A month ago, I had a severe cold and temporarily sent Max to a pet center for boarding.

Three days ago, it suddenly ran out and was accidentally hit by a car.

The driver deliberately claimed that Max damaged his car and demanded $100,000 before allowing the pet center to take it to the vet.

I wanted to rush over to handle it, but my phone was confiscated, and I was locked up.

Now, three whole days have passed.

All the pet center could give me was an urn of ashes.

A sharp pain surged in my heart.

I said calmly, "There's no need."

Then, I left without looking back.

I sent a text to my senior brother Ryan Carter overseas: [I agree to the exchange. Please help me bring Mr. Howard over.]