Chapter 6
588words
He tore up the divorce agreement and the settlement check.
Just to make me stay.
To repay his damn debt.
"Are you insane?" I can't believe it. "You clearly get sick just looking at me..."
"That's right, I still get sick looking at you."
Theodore interrupts me, his eyes flickering with morbid obsession.
"And I still hate you as a person, hate your timid manner."
He reaches out his hand.
He points at my throat.
"But this here... belongs to me now."
"Until you pay back the fifty million, your voice, your breath, every syllable—they're all my assets."
"Without permission, you're not allowed to speak to anyone, not allowed to leave even half a step."
Blatant house arrest.
I laugh bitterly in extreme anger.
"What if I refuse? Do you think I'm a machine that sings at the press of a button?"
"You can try."
Theodore turns and walks toward the stairs, his back resolute.
"You can keep your mouth shut."
"But I guarantee, if you don't let me sleep tonight..."
"Tomorrow morning, what awaits you won't be breakfast."
"But an arrest warrant for fraud."
He turns his face at the staircase.
His eyes are bewitching.
"Freedom, or prison? Choose for yourself."
"In ten minutes, meet me in the bedroom."
"Remember, bring your 'special voice'."
"Don't let me hear this cold tone you're using now, it makes me sick."
I'm left alone in the living room.
Cold light illuminates the shredded papers across the floor.
I've lost.
In the face of wealth and power, talent without protection ultimately becomes just a captive resource.
My phone vibrates.
Creditor's text message: [Debt cleared. We owe each other nothing from now on.]
My fingers tremble slightly.
At least the vampire-like family debt can no longer control me.
As for Theodore...
I look up toward the second floor.
Want to use me as medicine?
Fine.
But some medicines have side effects.
Since you insist on keeping me here, let me show you what "drinking poison to quench thirst" means.
I take a deep breath, pick up my suitcase, and go upstairs.
With each step I climb, the timid "mute wife" dies a little more.
Deprived of retreat, fear is also stripped away.
Ten minutes later.
Master bedroom.
Curtains tightly drawn, only a dim lamp lit.
Theodore lies on the bed, brows tightly knitted, veins bulging.
Excruciating pain is torturing him.
"Come here."
Without opening his eyes, he impatiently pats the pillow.
"Begin."
I walk to the bedside.
Pull over a chair.
Sit ten feet away.
Cross my legs, coldly watching him.
"What? Can't understand human speech?" Theodore suddenly opens his eyes, glaring angrily.
"Mr. Theodore."
I speak up.
It's Siren's voice.
Deep.
Languid.
With its signature magnetic texture.
When this voice comes from the mouth he has despised for half a year.
Theodore's pupils contract violently!
Rigid.
Stunned.
Dazed.
It's too absurd.
His normally mute wife, who wouldn't even dare to breathe loudly, actually possesses the divine voice that can control his sleep.
The intense sense of disconnection makes him stare fixedly at my lips.
As if confirming whether it's an illusion.
I ignore his shock, my tone as cold as if discussing a business deal.
"According to Siren's market rate, considering you need 'exclusive rights'..."
I hold up five fingers.
"Five hundred thousand per night."
"For the fifty million debt, I'll serve you for one hundred nights."
"After one hundred days, the debt will be cleared, I'll leave, and we'll owe each other nothing."
