The Truman Cage: My Husband Faked My World Chapter 08

The Truman Cage: My Husband Faked My World Chapter 08

Heavy, hurried footsteps pounded against the dirt from outside the courtyard. Two rough–looking female overseers barged in.

They made a beeline for Vivian, seizing her by the arms and hauling her toward the gate.

Vivian froze for a split second before recognition dawned on her face. She rounded on them, her

voice shrill with entitlement.

“You two. I know you. You’re the ones I hired to deal with Clara. How dare you put your hands on me?”

“Get your hands off me! My husband is Ethan. He’ll make you pay for this!”

“And how the hell did I end up in a place like this? Tell me. Was this your doing?”

She thrashed and kicked and clawed the whole way, screaming until she was hoarse, but the two overseers didn’t so much as flinch. Their dull eyes showed nothing but impatience.

They only clamped down harder, one of them snapping at her.

“Shut your mouth! What the hell are you screaming for?”

“Ethan? Clara? What the hell are you talking about?”

The other overseer cut in, her voice flat and cold.

“The head overseer sent us to drag you back, you little runaway. That’s all we need to know.”

“You signed your life away on that indenture contract, in your own blood. You belong to the estate now. Sent to the master’s quarters yesterday and already trying to bolt?”

The blood drained from Vivian’s face, and her voice cracked into a shriek.

“Runaway? You’re out of your minds!”

“I am Ethan’s wife! You worthless trash, let go of me! Let go!”

The two women ignored every word. They hauled her out of the crumbling courtyard like a stray animal that had slipped the pen.

Vivian didn’t understand until she saw who the so–called master was.

Ethan.

She had been thrust into the same fabricated hell, just like I had. He had figured it all out, and this

was his revenge.

Vivian tore herself free, scrambled forward on her hands and knees, and forced out a desperate

smile.

“Ethan! Oh my God, it’s really you!”

“Please, just listen to me. I panicked. I was terrified that once she came back pregnant with your

child, you wouldn’t want Sunny and me anymore.”

“I only wanted to scare her a little. I never thought she’d actually die.”

“And that wasn’t my fault. She was already in bad health. She bled out on her own. How was that my

fault?”

“And Sunny pinching her… he’s just a little boy. He didn’t know what he was doing!”

Vivian gestured wildly at the room, then at the robes Ethan was wearing.

“This is all fake, isn’t it? You set this whole thing up.”

“Ethan, please. Enough. I know I was wrong, I swear I know. Just take me home. This place is terrifying, and so are these people.”

“Ethan, I’m begging you. If not for me, then do it for Sunny. Take me home!”

“I’ll do whatever you want from now on. I swear I’ll never do anything like this again!”

By the end, Vivian was a pathetic, snot–streaked wreck, sobbing uncontrollably, all her previous elegance completely shattered. Ethan listened in silence, his face giving nothing away.

He didn’t move until her sobs had thinned to a ragged whisper and there was almost nothing left of her. Only then did he speak, his voice empty of warmth.

“Runaways lose an eye and a leg.”

“She’s been dragged back. Handle her by house rules. Take her to the Interrogator.”

Ethan turned without another word and disappeared into the inner rooms.

“Ethan, you can’t do this to me! I’m your wife! I’m Sunny’s mother!”

“None of this is real! This twisted roleplay can’t be real! Come back! Take me with you!”