In the Name of a Wife

Four months pregnant, I brought lunch to my husband to tell him the good news, only to be stopped by his chief secretary. She slapped me, shredded my clothes, took nude photos of me, stabbed my chest with a utility knife, and cut open my belly to kill the baby. As blood flowed like a river, she called my husband in front of me: "I dealt with a bitch harassing you." A cold voice replied: "Handle it yourself." He had no idea that his wife was lying in the pool of blood. Later, the secretary got pregnant, thinking it was his child. Little did she know, the men those nights were beggars I carefully chose—the dirtiest and ugliest ones. On her happiest day, I gave her a video tape: she was raped by the beggars for seven days and nights. Killing people and destroying their spirits is the highest level of revenge.

Four months pregnant, I brought lunch to my husband to tell him the good news, only to be stopped by his chief secretary. She slapped me, shredded my clothes, took nude photos of me, stabbed my chest with a utility knife, and cut open my belly to kill the baby. As blood flowed like a river, she called my husband in front of me: "I dealt with a bitch harassing you." A cold voice replied: "Handle it yourself." He had no idea that his wife was lying in the pool of blood. Later, the secretary got pregnant, thinking it was his child. Little did she know, the men those nights were beggars I carefully chose—the dirtiest and ugliest ones. On her happiest day, I gave her a video tape: she was raped by the beggars for seven days and nights. Killing people and destroying their spirits is the highest level of revenge.