My husband repeatedly sla***ed me in the face over a trivial matter. The next morning, he saw a lavish feast and said, “It’s good that you’ve finally come to your senses!” But he panicked and nearly fainted from shock after seeing the guests seated at the table…

That night, I stood in the bathroom rinsing blood from my mouth while purple bruises bloomed beneath my cheekbone.

My hands stayed perfectly steady.

Down the hallway, Daniel laughed loudly during a phone call.

“She learned her lesson,” he bragged. “Tomorrow morning she’ll be begging.”

I opened the cabinet beneath the sink and removed the tiny recorder I’d hidden there months earlier after the first slap he promised would never happen again.

The red recording light blinked calmly.

I touched my bruised cheek once.

Then I made three phone calls.

One to my lawyer.

One to the bank.

And one connected to the biggest mistake Daniel had ever made.

By six the next morning, I was already cooking.