He Beats Me To Entertain His Friends – And My Revenge Shocked Them….

” Or, “She’s lucky I picked her from the street.” Sometimes he would grab my hair and drag me to the kitchen just to make them laugh. They laughed. Oh, how they laughed. And I I died slowly inside. One night during a party, I mistakenly dropped a wine glass. The room went silent. James stood up, walked towards me slowly. I held my breath, then slap.

He hit me so hard I fell to the ground. My cheek burned. My pride shattered. He turned to his friends and said, “That’s how to handle nonsense.” and they all cheered. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But I looked at my daughter Nora standing at the stairs. Her small eyes filled with tears. And I knew I couldn’t leave.

Not yet. Because I had no money, no job, no house, no family support. James made sure I had nothing except him. So I stayed. But something inside me began to grow quietly. It wasn’t fear anymore. It was fire. One day while James was away on a business trip, I found an old diary of mine.

It was filled with dreams, plans, goals. My handwriting looked so young and full of life. I cried that night, not because I missed who I used to be, but because I knew she was still inside me, hiding, waiting for a chance to rise again. That was the night I decided to stop surviving. I would start planning. Every insult James threw at me became a brick.

I used each one to build my revenge. And my revenge would not be loud. No, it would be patient, gentle, like water dripping on stone until it breaks. James thought I was weak, but weakness is not the absence of strength. Sometimes it is the training ground for power. I stopped fighting him with words. I became quiet.