Chapter 3

3

"Ladies, this woman's trying to get with Mr. Thompson. Should we strip her?"

The other secretaries were all for it, eager to join in.

I scrambled towards the door.

My hand screamed as Brenda stomped on my left hand.

The pain shot through me.

The other women grabbed me.

Brenda crouched down, looking at my face with twisted amusement. "You're pretty, but don't worry, I won't mess up your face."

"Because after we strip you, I'm taking pictures, posting them online."

"If your face is messed up, nobody will know you're a tramp. That won't do."

I was shaking, wanting to protect my stomach, but I couldn't move.

Brenda pulled out a pair of scissors, cutting up my dress.

I didn't dare move or scream, afraid she'd stab my stomach.

Time stretched out, full of fear.

Soon, my dress was in pieces, exposing my skin.

"Damn, no wonder you think you can get with Mr. Thompson. You've got the goods."

A crowd had gathered at the door.

Most of them just watched, but a couple of people tried to stop Brenda.

"Brenda, that's enough. If you hurt her, Mr. Thompson won't be happy."

Brenda didn't care, poking my forehead with her long nails. "She's a nanny trying to seduce Mr. Thompson. As Mr. Thompson's assistant, it's my job to deal with these messes, right?"

The person hesitated, then fell silent, not wanting to make an enemy of Brenda.

"Brenda, I think she's pregnant!"

A sharp-eyed secretary pointed at my stomach.

Brenda's eyes flashed. She walked up to me, staring at my stomach, like she wanted to see right through me.

"Heh."

Brenda laughed, but her eyes were filled with fury, like she was about to tear me apart.

"I tried to keep everyone away from him, but I didn't keep you away, did I?"

"You are carrying Mr. Thompson's kid? We'll see if you're alive to give birth."

She grabbed my hair, hitting my head against the wall.

"Die!"

"Anyone who tries to steal Mr. Thompson from me has to die."

Brenda stopped, throwing me on the floor.

Before I could breathe, my stomach was cramping.

Curling up didn't help.

My ears were ringing, everything blurry, warm blood running down my face, dripping on the floor.

As I was blacking out, I screamed:

"I'm Tom Thompson's wife!"