Married to the Son Owned by the Father

Rosalie Gaston POV

I carried the square cake box and stepped out of the shop with a faint smile.

It was my sister-in-law’s birthday, and my brother had insisted I bring the cake before the weather turned. But I was late.

I desperately needed just a few minutes to breathe, away from the walls of that house that felt like a prison.

Cold raindrops splashed against my face. I lifted my hand to shield the cake, but within seconds the drizzle became a storm. My hair clung to my skin, my clothes soaked through, my breath tightening in my chest.

“My luck is cursed. What a shame.”

“All this trouble for a cake? How pathetic.”

“He’s going to kill me. My funeral will be held the moment I arrive.”

That wasn’t a joke. It was the truth I knew too well. I knew how his anger could turn into something darker.

I ran with everything I had, ignoring the cold that cut straight into my bones. Every step felt like a fight for survival.

When I pushed myself to run faster, my foot twisted and I stumbled. The box slipped from my hands and rolled before stopping dead in front of me. My face froze, horror spilling across my features. The cake must have lost its perfect round shape.

I refused to check. Too scared to see the damage, I picked up the box and rushed to the door of the house. The moment I grabbed the handle and opened it, I was greeted by my brother’s grim face.

“When will you learn to obey the second I give an order, you stubborn brat? Didn’t you see the storm coming?”

He snatched the box from my hands, his breath hot with rage. I whispered, nervous and trembling, “I ran all the way here so I wouldn’t be any later.”

He caught my wet hair between his fingers and yanked hard. Pain distorted my face as he dragged me inside and slammed the door.

“Look at you, for God’s sake! You look like a stray cat!”

Shame burned my lips. I pulled my arms across my chest, used to covering up because of his strict rules.

“Did you ruin my wife’s birthday cake?”

He almost opened the box, but I caught his hand quickly.

“No, I didn’t mean to. It’s just that”

He shook me off with a scowl. “Confess before I kill you with my own hands.”

“My foot twisted on the way. I fell. The box slipped out of my grip.”

His wife’s voice cut in, sharp and impatient. “Should I cancel my birthday because your stupid sister couldn’t walk straight on her way back?”

He growled at her, trying to calm her. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll check the cake.”