Chapter 3 I had Mike post a picture of us holding hands on his social feed with the caption, [Newly married.] The whole point was to make it look as if our relationship was solid. That was when I noticed his profile was empty. Other than that one post, he hadn't shared a single thing. A guy like him must live a really boring life. That night, he actually slept in the big bed and left me on the couch. It wasn't exactly gentlemanly, but whatever-I should probably just be grateful. The next morning, Mike woke me up. He was blasting music while doing push-ups, already working out at the crack of dawn. People always said men who weren't interested in sex were impotent and weak, but his eight-pack abs and solid legs looked powerful. It was way more impressive than Phil's body, that was for sure. "Quit staring. I'm not interested in you," he said suddenly, pushing himself up from the floor. "Get dressed. We're going out for breakfast." It was obvious he meant to show everyone we looked like a real couple. Honestly, he didn't seem that hard to get along with. Why had he hit Tilda in her last life? After getting ready, I left the house with Mike. The moment we stepped we han right into Tilda and Phil, walking hand in hand. Tilda was wearing a strapless dress, her collarbone and shoulders marked with love bites. She leaned in close on purpose, making sure I saw them. Her face was full of smugness as she looked me over. [Look at her, all covered up-bet she got hi and is trying to cover the bruises.] Her inner voice rang loudly in my head, followed by her satisfied little smile. "How was your wedding night?" she asked sweetly. I was wearing a fitted long-sleeved dress, the kind Samantha preferred. She hated it when her daughters-in-law dressed tackily, and she had no patience for heavy makeup either. Tilda clearly forgot that. But I wasn't about to remind her. I just smiled. 1/3 Chapter 3 +25 Bonus "In the Pearsons, you don't get to call me Skye. You should call me Ms. Skye, like the rest." Her smile faltered, and she clenched her teeth. "Even Mike hasn't asked me to call you that. What gives you the right?" Then she turned toward him. "Mike, say something." I could feel Mike's whole presence grow colder. Inside, Phil cursed, [What an idiot. I'll deal with her tonight!] He then tugged her hand, trying to warn her to stop talking. But she had no clue how much trouble she was walking into. "Phil, what's the Pearsons' first rule of the house?" Mike asked softly. Phil immediately lowered his head. "Sorry. I'll handle her right now." A second later, he slapped Tilda hard across the face with a loud smack. "Show respect! Greet Mr. Mike and Ms. Skye properly!" Tilda's cheeks turned red from the hit. She looked as if she was about to explode, but she knew better than to challenge Mike. Grinding her teeth, she muttered, "Good morning, Mr. Mike. Good morning, Ms. Skye." Then Phil dragged her away. I remembered the Pearsons' first house rule clearly: No one was allowed to disrespect the heir or his wife. You couldn't even call them by name. Breaking the rule meant severe punishment. Mike was the heir. In my last life, I'd memorized every family rule just to survive. After Tilda married Mike, she bullied me constantly. But because of that rule, I never dared disrespect her directly. I thought she would've memorized the rules, too. But apparently, she hadn't. That was why she still thought she could step all over me in this life. By the time we got to the dining hall, Tilda had already been punished. Her face was pale, her head hung low. For now, she didn't dare make another scene. But under the table, I caught Phil jabbing her hand with a needle. 2/3 Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!