He Found Me Rotting in the Cellar

Three years ago, I stumbled upon my husband's dirty little secret—he was sleeping with our adopted daughter, Rose, who has dwarfism. After that, Gabriel wanted nothing to do with me.

Rose, the sweet-faced girl we took in, locked me in the cellar. She ran a thick iron chain right through my shoulder blades and left me there to rot. Three years in that hellhole turned me into a walking skeleton.

Then Rose got sick—really sick. And suddenly, Gabriel remembered I existed.

He showed up with a small army, searching the property. All clues pointed to the cellar right under our own roof.

He thought I was still sulking.

"If you agree to operate on Rose yourself," he announced, "I'll forgive you for running off without a word three years ago."

My throat was raw. When I tried to speak, all that came out was a dry, rasping wheeze.

Finally, Gabriel yanked the cellar door open himself.

Only to find me—long dead from starvation.

Three years back, I was supposed to be at the office, but I'd forgotten an important document at home. So I turned around to grab it.

That's when I heard it—the rhythmic creaking of our marital bed coming from upstairs.

All the staff had been given the day off. Up in our bedroom, Rose—our adopted daughter with dwarfism—was perched on Gabriel's lap, wearing my silk nightgown.

"If she knew you only adopted me to get me into bed easier," Rose giggled, "she'd probably drop dead."

"Well, she's clueless enough to not even realize you're not a child," Gabriel replied, looking utterly pleased with himself. "We have to keep it that way. I told her I'd love only her forever. If she hadn't been on her period lately, it wouldn't be your turn, you little vixen."

I stood frozen, my whole body trembling, vision blurring with angry tears.

Gabriel and I had years of history. Everyone said he was a saint.

When he was courting me, he vowed, "I want your heart, and I want to grow old with you."

After we married, he fired every female employee in the house—even hired a male butler—all to prove his devotion.

People said he loved me more than life itself.

But I knew there was always one exception: Rose.

Gabriel had insisted on adopting her. "She's the daughter of my fallen comrade," he'd said. "I can't abandon her."

I never imagined this was how he'd look after her.

When it came to Rose, Gabriel lost all sense.

On our first anniversary, I'd planned a romantic evening. But Rose "sprained her ankle," and he left me waiting alone while he rushed her to the hospital.

Another time, we were in the middle of… things… when Rose called, sobbing that she was scared of the thunder. Gabriel pulled on his pants and went to comfort her.

There were countless incidents, but I never suspected a thing.

I never dreamed they'd been carrying on right under my nose, fooling me completely. Rose's childlike appearance, due to her dwarfism, had been the perfect disguise.

I thought I'd burst in, screaming and throwing things.

But I didn't.

I just stood there, numb, placing the forgotten folder down quietly, waiting for them to finish.

I expected Gabriel to be ashamed, guilty. Instead, he was coldly calm.

"Now that you know," he said, "you'll treat Rose even better. She's not really your daughter, so don't make her call you 'Mom' anymore. If you two can get along, I won't have to hide it."

He looked at me as if I were the unreasonable one, as if I had forced his hand.

I was shaking with rage, my heart splintering.

"How could you do this to me?" I choked out.

After marrying him, I'd dedicated myself to his happiness. I managed his family's business affairs to free up his time. Out of pity for Rose's "tragic past," I made her nourishing soups every single day.

And all along, they were betraying me in the most vile way.

"You're acting so provincial," Gabriel scoffed. "Can't you be more modern about this?"

"We'll talk when you've cooled off. I'm going on a business trip."

"And since I'm worried you might take this out on Rose," he added, dripping with disdain, "I'm transferring all security and household control to her."

With that, he put on his coat and walked out.

Leaving me alone with Rose.

She looked up at me, holding a bowl of soup, her eyes wide and pitiful.

I was so revolted I slapped the bowl from her hands.

"You disgust me, Rose. Was it fun, fooling me all this time?"

If I'd known she wasn't a child, but a grown woman with dwarfism, I would never have agreed to the adoption.

As I turned away, I caught a glimpse of her face—all pretense dropped, replaced by pure, cold cruelty.

That night, as I slept, she crept into my room and smashed a heavy vase against the back of my head.

The timid, gentle girl vanished. In her place was a brutal stranger.

With a hideous grin, she grabbed my hair and dragged me, half-conscious, down to the cellar.

"You should have played along, Mia. You're just an orphan. Who do you think you are?"

"You shouldn't have found out. To keep you quiet, and to make him love me more… I have no choice."