Revenge Of The Wife They Sold

Adeline Carter's POV:

I knew I couldn't let on that I knew anything. Not a word. I forced a brittle, fake smile.

Alvin spoke first, his voice steady. “I was just in the neighborhood, Adeline. Thought I'd stop by.”

“Mr. Webb, Mr. Thompson,” I said with an unnatural cheerfulness. “Please, come in. Brock is resting. He's always exhausted after dinner.” I gestured to our cramped living room. “Sorry for the mess.”

I poured them some tap water.

Gill turned to Alvin, his tone sharp. “Alvin, you should head out. I need to discuss some corporate personnel matters with Adeline.”

Alvin arched an eyebrow. “Personnel matters? Hardly confidential, Gill. I don't see why I can't stay.” He shot me a meaningful look, a silent warning.

The two began a subtle, dangerous verbal duel, each trying to outmaneuver the other and establish dominance. They traded barbs disguised as hollow pleasantries.

I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me. The milk Brock had given me was still in my system. I pinched myself repeatedly, hard, to stay awake and alert.

But the sedative was powerful. Soon, both Gill and Alvin began to nod off, their eyelids heavy.

They slumped onto the sofa, fast asleep.

Yes, I had spiked their water.

I watched them for a long moment before a sense of relief washed over me. I crept back into the bedroom and locked the door. I lay down beside Brock, listening to his light snoring.

A pang of regret surfaced.

I had briefly considered "selling" Brock to Gill, using him the way he intended to use me.

But I couldn't. I couldn't sink that low.

I loathed Gill's crudeness, his hideous proposal. If I went through with it, what would I become? Once you cross that line, there's no coming back.