Chapter 1 — The Two Slaps
Chapter 1 — The Two Slaps
The first slap came before I had even unpacked my wedding shoes.
The second came before I could understand why the first had happened.
And by the time I walked out of that apartment, I had learned something I should have known long before I said I do:
A marriage could begin with a promise and still be built on a lie.
My name is Elizabeth Carter.
For the first twelve hours of my marriage, I believed I had become Dwight Anderson's wife.
By midnight, I knew I had become his family's target.
And I had no idea that the reason they had chosen me had almost nothing to do with love.
The wedding had ended at 11:40 the previous night.
It had been beautiful.
At least, I thought it had been.
White roses lined the ballroom. Hundreds of candles reflected against the crystal chandeliers. My mother would have loved it.
She had died five years earlier, but I had carried one of her old photographs in my bouquet.
Dwight had held my hand throughout the ceremony.
He had looked into my eyes and promised me a lifetime.
I believed him.
That was my first mistake.
The second came when I agreed to move into the Anderson family apartment.
Dwight had told me it was temporary.
“Just until we find our own place,” he'd said.
His parents had insisted we stay with them for a few weeks.
“It will be good for family bonding,” Susan had told me.
I should have noticed that Dwight never actually promised how long “a few weeks” would last.
But I was exhausted after the wedding.
So when we arrived at the apartment shortly after midnight, I simply wanted to sleep.
Instead, Susan was waiting.
She was still wearing the pale blue dress she'd worn at our reception.
Her makeup was flawless.
Not a strand of hair was out of place.
She carried a silver tray with fruit and champagne.
“Welcome home, Elizabeth.”
I smiled politely.
“Thank you.”
Susan kissed the air beside my cheek.
Then she handed me a thick envelope.
“This is for you.”
I stared at it.
“For me?”
“For the household.”
Dwight walked past us while staring at his phone.
He didn't even look up.
I opened the envelope.
Inside were five twenty-dollar bills.
I frowned.
“What is this?”
Susan smiled.
“Your weekly household allowance.”
I thought she was joking.
I actually laughed.
Susan didn't.
My smile disappeared.
“You're serious?”
“Of course.”
She pulled another sheet from the envelope.
At the top, in bold letters, were the words:
DUTIES OF THE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
I read the list.
Then read it again.
Three meals every day.
Laundry for six people.
Cleaning.
Grocery shopping.
Breakfast preparation.
Lunch preparation.
Dinner preparation.
Weekly linen changes.
Bathroom cleaning.
Kitchen cleaning.
And an $800 monthly contribution toward household expenses.
I looked at Dwight.
He was still scrolling through his phone.
“Dwight?”
“Hmm?”
“What is this?”
“My mom's house rules.”
“House rules?”
“Yes.”
He didn't even bother looking.
“She knows how to run a family.”
I looked back at Susan.
“I'm expected to do all of this?”
Susan tilted her head.
“You're Dwight's wife.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“It does in this family.”
She pointed toward the bottom of the list.
“Your responsibilities begin tomorrow.”
I laughed again.
This time there was no humor in it.
“I think there's been a misunderstanding.”
Susan's smile tightened.
“There hasn't.”
“I work.”
“You can work after the house is taken care of.”
“I have a full-time job.”
“So did I once.”
She shrugged.
“A woman's priorities change after marriage.”
I stared at her.
Then I looked at Dwight.
He finally glanced up.
“What?”
“Did you know about this?”
He shrugged.
“My mom probably mentioned it.”
“She didn't.”
“Then she forgot.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
I had spent nearly $48,000 on our wedding.
I had paid deposits.
Catering.
Photography.
The reception hall.
Even the honeymoon reservation.
I'd also contributed the largest portion of the down payment for the apartment Dwight had told me would eventually become our home.
And now, less than twelve hours after our wedding, I was being handed a list of unpaid labor.
I folded the paper.
“No.”
Susan blinked.
“No?”
“I won't be doing this.”
The silence was immediate.
Gemma, Dwight's younger sister, had been standing in the hallway.
She laughed.
“You're kidding.”
“No.”
Ryan appeared behind her.
He looked at me, then at the list.
“What exactly are you refusing?”
“All of it.”
Gemma folded her arms.
“Then why did you marry my brother?”
I stared at her.
“Because I married him. Not six people.”
Her expression hardened.
Susan's eyes narrowed.
“Elizabeth, don't start your marriage with disrespect.”
“Respect goes both ways.”
Susan gasped.
Dwight finally put his phone down.
“Can we not do this tonight?”
“Your mother just handed me a list of domestic duties and told me to pay $800 every month.”
“So?”
I stared at him.
“So?”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“It's not that serious.”
I picked up the list.
“Your mother expects me to wash your family's underwear.”
Dwight shrugged.
“Everyone contributes.”
“Then everyone can contribute.”
Gemma laughed.
Ryan threw a pair of dirty socks onto the coffee table.
“Fine. Start with those.”
I looked at the socks.
Then at him.
Then at Dwight.
Nobody was laughing anymore.
I walked into the bedroom.
I closed the door.
And for the first time that night, I allowed myself to cry.
Not because I was overwhelmed.
Because I was embarrassed.
I'd spent four years believing Dwight and I were building a life together.
Had I been building it alone?
The next morning, I woke to shouting.
“Elizabeth!”
I opened my eyes.
Susan's voice came from the hallway.
“Elizabeth!”
I sat up.
The wedding dress I'd carefully hung over a chair was still there.
My shoes were beside the bed.
My new wedding ring glittered beneath the morning sunlight.
For a moment, I remembered the ceremony.
For better or worse.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Susan walked in.
She pointed toward the hallway.
“The laundry.”
I followed her.
Three enormous baskets sat in front of the television.
White clothes.
Dark clothes.
Towels.
Sheets.
Underwear.
Socks.
Everything.
“The washing machine is broken,” Susan announced.
I stared at her.
“And?”
“Finish everything before noon.”
I looked at the clock.
8:12.
“You want all of this done in four hours?”
“You're young.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I walked into the kitchen.
I made tea.
Then I sat down.
Susan stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Having breakfast.”
“The laundry.”
“I'm not washing it.”
Her face turned red.
“You agreed to our family rules.”
“No.”
“You married into this family.”
“Yes.”
“Then act like a wife.”
“I am acting like a wife.”
Susan slammed her hand on the counter.
“You're selfish.”
“Perhaps.”
“You think you're better than us.”
“No.”
“You're already trying to control my son.”
“No.”
“Then why won't you obey?”
I put down my cup.
“Because marriage isn't employment.”
Gemma stormed into the room.
“You're unbelievable.”
Ryan followed.
“What's happening?”
“Your new sister-in-law refuses to do laundry.”
Ryan laughed.
“Seriously?”
He picked up a pair of socks and tossed them onto my lap.
“Start with mine.”
I dropped them onto the floor.
“No.”
He looked at Dwight.
“Are you going to let her talk to us like this?”
Dwight appeared in the doorway.
He looked exhausted.
“Elizabeth, just do it.”
I stared at him.
“You're serious?”
“Please.”
“Please?”
“It's one morning.”
“No.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Why are you making this difficult?”
“Because your family is demanding that I become their maid.”
Susan burst into tears.
“There she is.”
Everyone looked at her.
She pressed a hand against her chest.
“I knew she never loved this family.”
I stared at Dwight.
“Your mother is crying because I won't wash your brother's underwear.”
Dwight's face hardened.
“Just apologize.”
“For what?”
“For embarrassing my mother.”
Something inside me broke.
I stood.
“I'm leaving.”
Dwight looked shocked.
“Where?”
“Somewhere I am treated like a human being.”
I went to the bedroom and pulled out my suitcase.
My hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
From anger.
I packed quickly.
Clothes.
Toiletries.
My laptop.
The small photograph of my mother.
Then I walked toward the front door.
Jared was standing there.
I had barely seen my father-in-law since the wedding.
He was a tall man with silver hair and an expensive watch.
He looked at my suitcase.
Then at me.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“This is your home.”
“No.”
His expression darkened.
“In this house, my son's wife obeys or she leaves.”
I looked at him.
“Then I'm leaving.”
I reached for the door.
His hand slammed against it.
“You're not walking out of here.”
I stared at his hand.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Move.”
He stepped closer.
“You will apologize to Susan.”
“No.”
“To Gemma.”
“No.”
“To my son.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“Elizabeth, don't test me.”
I had already been tested enough.
“I am not afraid of you.”
His hand moved.
The first slap struck my cheek.
My head snapped sideways.
For a second, I heard nothing.
The room went completely silent.
I touched my face.
Nobody moved.
Not Susan.
Not Gemma.
Not Ryan.
Not Dwight.
I looked at my husband.
He was staring at his father.
But he didn't say a word.
Then Jared slapped me again.
This time I stumbled.
My ear rang.
My mouth tasted like blood.
I looked around the room.
And something inside me went cold.
Nobody was coming to help me.
So I would help myself.
I stumbled onto the balcony.
My eyes landed on a metal bar lying beside a stack of construction materials.
I picked it up.
My hand was shaking.
I walked back inside.
Everyone stared at me.
I lifted the bar.
And brought it down onto the glass coffee table.
CRASH!
Glass exploded across the floor.
Susan screamed.
Gemma jumped backward.
Ryan dropped his phone.
Dwight froze.
Jared stared at me.
I lowered the metal bar.
My voice was quiet.
“If anyone touches me again, I'm calling the police.”
Nobody spoke.
I picked up my suitcase.
Then I looked at Dwight.
“You had one job.”
He stared at me.
“To be my husband.”
I shook my head.
“You couldn't even do that.”
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped inside.
Jared shouted:
“If you walk out, don't bother coming back!”
I pressed the button.
“I wasn't planning to.”
The doors closed.
For the first time since I met Dwight, I felt free.
Amy was waiting outside the emergency clinic.
She hugged me carefully.
“Oh my God.”
“I'm okay.”
“You're not okay.”
She looked at my cheek.
Then my ear.
Then the swelling near my mouth.
“Christopher needs to see this.”
The doctor confirmed a significant bruise, a loose tooth, and a minor ear injury.
I sat silently while Amy filled out the paperwork.
My phone kept vibrating.
DWIGHT
DWIGHT
SUSAN
DWIGHT
I turned it off.
At Christopher's office, I placed the medical report on his desk.
He read it carefully.
Then looked at me.
“You want a divorce?”
“Yes.”
“Protection order?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have evidence?”
I nodded.
“Ryan recorded everything.”
Christopher looked up.
“Everything?”
“Both slaps.”
“Where's the video?”
“Ryan sent it to the family group chat.”
Christopher opened his laptop.
“Good.”
He watched it once.
His expression changed.
“This is useful.”
“Useful?”
“For protecting you.”
He leaned back.
“Now we need to deal with the money.”
“What money?”
“The money you put into the marriage.”
I swallowed.
“Forty-eight thousand.”
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“It went into an account Dwight controlled.”
Christopher became very still.
“Elizabeth.”
“What?”
“You need to call the bank immediately.”
“Why?”
“Because if Dwight realizes you're leaving, he may move the money.”
I grabbed my phone.
But before I could make the call, Christopher's office assistant entered.
“Mr. Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“There was a delivery for Elizabeth.”
She handed me a small envelope.
No return address.
My name was written across the front.
I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet.
Typed.
If you want to know why Dwight married you, look in the folder marked X.
I stared at the words.
Christopher noticed my expression.
“What is it?”
I handed him the paper.
He read it.
“Do you know what folder they're talking about?”
I shook my head.
“Dwight's laptop.”
I remembered.
He had given me the password before the wedding so I could download our photographs.
I had never had a reason to look anywhere else.
Until now.
That night, Amy and I opened the laptop.
There was a synchronized folder labeled:
X
I clicked it.
Inside were financial records.
Photographs.
Emails.
And one video.
The date was one week before my wedding.
I pressed play.
Dwight appeared on screen.
But he wasn't alone.
His arms were around Ashley.
My maid of honor.
They kissed.
Then Ashley whispered:
“What if Elizabeth finds out?”
Dwight smiled.
“She won't.”
“Are you sure?”
“After she signs everything, she won't have anything left to find.”
My blood turned cold.
Ashley looked nervous.
“And if she doesn't sign?”
Dwight's smile disappeared.
“My father has a way of making people cooperate.”
The video ended.
I sat completely still.
Amy whispered:
“Elizabeth…”
I didn't answer.
Because suddenly, the two slaps weren't the worst thing that had happened to me.
The worst thing was realizing that my husband had known exactly what his family intended to do to me.
And he'd married me anyway.
I looked at the folder again.
There were dozens of files.
And one of them was named:
PROJECT ELIZABETH — FINAL TRANSFER
I clicked it.
The screen went black.
Then a document appeared.
At the top was my full legal name.
Beneath it was a figure that made my breath stop.
$48,000 — INITIAL CONTRIBUTION
And below that:
TARGET ASSET: CARTER FAMILY SHARES
I stared at the screen.
Those shares were the one thing my mother had left me.
The one thing I'd never told Dwight about.
So how did his family know?
I looked at Amy.
“I never told him about my inheritance.”
She stared at the screen.
“Then someone else did.”
And in that moment, I understood.
My marriage hadn't gone wrong after the wedding.
May you like
It had been wrong from the beginning.
And tomorrow, I was going to find out exactly why.
