Trained to Catch Cheaters, Married a Recluse

My mother was tormented her entire life by a cheating husband and his mistress.

From a young age, she taught me everything. How to hack a phone, how to dig through hotel records, and how to find long strands of hair in the passenger seat.

She passed down her own version of the Art of War. She told me that no man was good.

She taught me to be airtight. It was better to wrongly accuse a thousand than to let one slip through the cracks.

On my wedding day, I carried a micro-listener and a concealed taser. I was ready for a psychological battle with any mistress who dared to show her face. I was prepared to defend my status as the wife until my dying breath.

Then, I actually got married.

My billionaire husband, Nathaniel Thorne, turned out to be an extreme case of social anxiety.

Forget other women. If a female dog even looked at him for too long, he'd turn red, break into a sweat, and hide in the walk-in closet.

I had spent ten years perfecting my skills in catching cheaters and tearing down home-wreckers. Was all that training just going to rot inside me?

"Elara, did you really fire every single maid?"

Nathaniel was huddled in the corner of the dressing room. He only showed half of his face.

"I did," I said, counting on my fingers.

"Two of them were in their twenties. One was thirty-five."

"And then there was Mrs. Miller, the cook. She's forty-two, but she looks thirty because she takes such good care of herself."

"I fired them all."

He swallowed hard.

"Mrs. Miller... her finger brushed mine when she served the soup yesterday."

"I know."

"You hid in the pantry for forty minutes and almost passed out from the lack of air."

I let out a long sigh.

Two months into my marriage with the Thornes, I finally faced reality.

My ten years of anti-mistress training was useless on this man.

It wasn't that he didn't want to cheat. He literally couldn't.

Last week, a female delivery driver knocked on the door. He jumped off the second-floor balcony and ran away.

If my mother knew her carefully trained daughter had married a man afraid of women, she'd probably rise from her grave in a rage.

"So, I found a new housekeeper," I said, waving him over.

"Come out. Stop hiding. I'll show you her picture."

He poked his head further out and took my phone for three seconds.

"This is her?"

"Mabel. She's fifty-three, from a small rural town. She looks honest and plain."

I pointed at the wrinkled woman in the photo.

"She's about your mother's age. You won't hide in the closet just because she's in the room, will you?"

Nathaniel shrunk his neck.

"She... she won't suddenly look at me, will she?"

"I told the agency the requirements. Her eyes aren't allowed to stay on you for more than half a second."

He let out a breath and nodded repeatedly.

Mabel started the next day.

For the first few days, she kept her head down while mopping and cooking. She walked along the walls.

Nathaniel finally stopped hiding in the closet. He could stay in the living room for a whole afternoon.

I was quite relieved.

Until the fifth day, when I walked downstairs and smelled heavy smoke in the living room.

My perfume was gone. On the table sat a bundle of burning dried sage.

"Mabel."

"Yes, ma'am?" She poked her head out of the kitchen, clutching a spatula.

"Where is my perfume?"

"I threw it out," she answered, chin held high.

"That stuff is full of chemicals. It's bad for the health."

"Sage cleanses the spirits and kills bacteria. Master Nathaniel is delicate. He can't handle your toxins."

I stood there, stunned, but didn't argue. I figured it was just some old-fashioned wellness habit from her hometown.

On the seventh day, I was cooking in the kitchen. She walked in with a bowl of white, greasy broth.

"Ma'am, the Master doesn't eat that fancy, useless food."

She slammed the bowl down on the counter.

"This is my special tallow broth. I simmered it for three hours with folk herbs. It will improve his complexion."

"He's not sick. Why would he drink tallow broth?"

"You wouldn't understand," she sneered.

"A man like the Master has a delicate soul. He can't eat that spicy, stimulating food."

"He needs to be nurtured with our traditional country ways."

I put down my chopsticks and said nothing. I thought she just had bad boundaries.

Until that night, when I went to take my long-term birth control pill as usual.

My mother had packed an emergency kit for me years ago.

Contraceptives were a part of it. She said a woman must never lose control over her own body.

I popped the pill out. The color was wrong.

Mine were light pink. The one in my hand was white, rounder, and had chipped edges.

Someone had swapped them.

I felt a chill run through me. I walked barefoot to the end of the hall and pushed open the maid's room door.

On the nightstand sat a makeshift shrine wrapped in red cloth.

Inside was a candid photo of Nathaniel reading a book.

Red candles were lit on both sides of the photo. The table was covered in melted wax.

In front of it were two locks of hairDone black, one white. They were tied tightly together with red thread.

Mabel was sitting on the edge of the bed. One hand was rubbing her slightly protruding belly, while the other stroked the photo.

"Master, you drank my broth today. You took an extra sip."

She stared intensely at the photo as she spoke.

"I know. In spirit, you have already blessed me with your child."

"That arrogant woman will be kicked out soon..."

I gripped the doorknob.

She turned her head, looking at me with a wide, eerie grin.

"Ma'am, you're just in time."

She stood up and puffed out her stomach.

"I was just about to discuss with you who really runs this house."

I slapped her across the face.

"You're insane."

"Swapping my pills, taking secret photos of my husband, and doing hair rituals."

"Where did you even get his hair?"

Mabel's head jerked to the side. Her cheek began to swell.

"I found it on the Master's sofa."

"Get out of this house. Now."

"You can't kick me out, ma'am."

"I can do it right now," I said, pointing at the door.

"You have three minutes to pack. After three minutes, I'm calling the police."

Mabel suddenly ripped her own shirt open and ran out the front door, screaming.

"Help! Help! The rich are attacking the poor!"

Her voice echoed through the entire neighborhood.

"The legal wife is beating me! She can't stand that I'm carrying the Master's spiritual child!"

By the time I chased her out, the security guards from the neighboring villas had already arrived.

Mabel sat in the middle of the road, her face a mess of snot and tears.

"Good people, please help me."

"I'm just a fifty-year-old woman from the country, working as a maid for the wealthy."

"I worked day and night, heart and soul. And then she!"

She pointed at me.

"She's jealous of the spiritual connection between me and the Master! She beat me! She's throwing me out!"

"What spiritual connection?"

The neighbor's guard frowned.

"You wouldn't understand!" Mabel flailed her arms.

"The Master is allergic to other women. He sweats when he sees them and shakes when they touch him."

"But he ate the food I made!"

"Yesterday, when he drank my tallow broth, he took an extra sip!"

She thumped her chest hard.

"Spiritually, we have already consummated our bond."

The guard's mouth dropped open.

"The Master only has me in his heart," Mabel wailed on the ground.

"He was forced to marry that woman!"

"Look at how miserable he is every day. He's too scared to speak, too scared to even leave the house!"

She pointed at Nathaniel, who was standing behind the glass of the front door.

"It's this woman! She forces the Master to shower until his skin is raw!"

"She forces him to wear suits he hates!"

"She forces him to meet people he doesn't want to see!"

"I am the only one who truly understands his soul!"

I took a deep breath and clenched my fists.

"She is our housekeeper. She's been here for five days."

"She's delusional. This spiritual bond is something she made up. My husband has never touched her."

"Of course you'd say that!" Mabel shrieked, slapping the pavement.

"You're just afraid the truth will come out! You're committing domestic violence! You're mentally abusing him!"

More and more people gathered. Some pulled out their phones to film.

"This is insane..."

the lady from the house to the right whispered, looking me up and down.

Another woman walking her dog chimed in.

"Honey, I'll be honest with you."

"Your husband... he does look pretty pitiful."

"If this older lady is willing to care for him, why are you so jealous?"

"She's not some young girl. Why are you picking a fight with a fifty-year-old?"

"Exactly," someone else added. "Is there any need to hit her?"

My nails dug into my palms.

Nathaniel stood behind the door, unable to say a single word.

Mabel looked at him and smiled.

"Master, don't be afraid," she shouted over the crowd.

"Once I drive this wicked woman away, you'll be free."

"From now on, I will take care of this home."

Mabel called her relatives from the village. Seventeen people arrived at my house in three vans.

They set up a tent by the gate overnight and hung a banner.

It read: "EVIL RICH WIFE IMPRISONS HUSBAND, TEARS APART TRUE LOVE."

The police got out of their car, looked at the banner, and then at Mabel crying on the ground.

"Ma'am, what is your relationship to these people?"

"I am the Master's soulmate," Mabel replied with a straight face.

The officer said nothing.

"She's our maid. We hired her five days ago," I added.

"Do you have evidence of trespassing?" the officer asked me.

"She lives in the maid's quarters. Does that count as trespassing?"

"Well..."

The young officer scratched his head.

"She says she's part of the family, and you say she's the maid. This is a civil dispute."

"She swapped my medication."

"Do you have footage?"

"We don't have cameras in the maid's room."

"Then we can't file a report right now. I suggest you settle this through mediation or legal channels."

The police car drove away.

Mabel's nephew pulled up a plastic chair at the gate and started cracking sunflower seeds.

"Listen, lady. My aunt said she isn't leaving."

"The Master's soul is already one with my aunt's. If you're smart, you'll pack your bags and leave with nothing."

"My aunt promises she won't hold you accountable for the mental abuse you put him through."

"Your aunt is mentally ill," I snapped.

"You're the one who's sick!" a blonde woman next to him yelled, pointing at me.

"My mother-in-law is the kindest soul on earth. You rich people just love bullying honest folks!"

At 3:00 PM, Mabel sat by the road and started a livestream, wiping tears for the camera.

"Everyone, I'm just a simple country woman. I'm fifty-three, working as a maid for the wealthy."

"The Master is a poor man. He has social anxiety. He's afraid of being seen or spoken to."

"But he isn't afraid of me. He ate my food."

"His soul chose me, but his wife won't allow it."

"She beat me, kicked me out, and even called the cops."

The comments flooded in.

"Oh my god, this is so sad."

"Rich people really think they can do anything."

"Keep going, Mabel! True love has no age!"

By the time I closed the app, the video had 300,000 views.

Someone leaked my name and address.

"Who is Elara? Oh, the Thorne family's daughter-in-law. She's only been married for three months."

"Three months and she can't even handle a fifty-year-old maid? How narrow-minded."

"The lady said the husband is only comfortable with her. That's true love."

The comments section posted my photo with the caption:

"Look at the face of this billionaire villainess."

I slammed my phone onto the table.

At 8:00 PM, Mabel took advantage of the chaos and led several large men through the side door.

I rushed downstairs and stopped at the landing.

An iron basin was lit on the living room floor, flames jumping high.

The chest my mother left for me had been pried open.

The listeners, cameras, pepper spray, and my leather journal were all being tossed into the fire.

The pungent smell of burning plastic filled the air. I covered my nose.

"These are the torture devices you used to spy on and torment the Master!"

Mabel stood by the fire, hands on her hips.

"I'm burning them for him! He won't be controlled by you anymore!"

I lunged forward to save them, but her nephew blocked me.

The edges of the journal curled and blackened. That was my mother's handwriting.

"Sweetie, check his phone at 3:00 AM. That's when he sleeps deepest."

"Sweetie, hair gets stuck in the seatbelt buckle. Always bring a plastic bag."

"Sweetie, I couldn't protect myself in this life, so you must protect yourself."

The paper turned to ash.

Mabel walked up to me, looking down her nose.

"Elara, you spent your whole life guarding against mistresses, but you can't guard against a noble soul."

She patted my shoulder.

"The Master's soul has belonged to me for a long time."

The next day, Mabel bought an outfit online. She claimed it was her wedding dress.

She brought in a middle-aged, balding man who called himself Master Ezekiel.

They planned to hold an "Exorcism of True Love" on the manor's lawn.

The whole thing was being livestreamed.

At 6:00 AM, the seventeen relatives dragged me out of bed.

Two large men forced me into a chair on the lawn and tied my wrists with rope.

Nathaniel was tied to the chair next to mine.

A dozen people were screaming and shoving him.

His face was deathly pale. He was sweating and his lips were turning purple. He was gasping for air.

"Don't be afraid, Master."

Mabel knelt in front of him and reached out to touch his face.

Nathaniel jerked his head away, his entire body trembling.

"Don't touch him!"

I struggled with my ropes. "He has social anxiety! You're going to give him a heart attack!"

"I'm saving him," Mabel whispered.

"Once the ritual is over, he won't be afraid anymore."

"Because his soul will recognize mine."

Over ten thousand people joined the livestream.

Master Ezekiel bowed to the camera.

"Dear followers, I have been invited today to host this recognition ceremony for these two soulmates."

"This man has a seven-hundred-year spiritual pact with Mabel from a past life. He was sealed by this wicked woman's dark arts..."

The screen was filled with comments.

"This is crazy."

"Honestly, the husband really doesn't seem to be reacting badly to the maid."

"Serves the rich wife right! Let the capitalists be judged!"

Mabel's niece-in-law brought over a basin filled with dirty, yellowish water.

Incense ash and mud floated on the surface. The stench was unbearable.

"Master, drink this holy water. It will wash away the filth the wicked woman left on you."

Mabel held the basin with both hands and moved toward Nathaniel.

Nathaniel's eyes widened. His pupils dilated.

He froze in the chair, his breathing coming in sharp, shallow bursts.

I screamed, "He has OCD! You can't!"

"Shut up!"

Mabel didn't even look back. "The wicked woman has no right to speak!"

As the basin reached Nathaniel's lips, his eyes rolled back.

I dropped my hands.

From the moment I was tied to the chair, I had been using a razor blade hidden in my sleeve to cut the rope.

My mother had sewn razor blades into all my pajamas.

The rope snapped.

Mabel lifted the basin to Nathaniel's mouth.

I kicked out with all my strength, my foot slamming into the bottom of the basin.

The filthy water splashed all over Mabel. The grimy liquid dripped down her clothes.

She shrieked and staggered back three steps.

I reached under the armrest of the chair and pulled out the high-pressure taser spray my mother had modified.

I held up a micro-camera with my left hand.

"Did you really think my mom only left me that one box?"

I stared at Mabel.

"Everything you've done on this livestreamDillegal detention, sexual harassment, intentional injuryDI've recorded it all."

I flipped the safety switch on the spray.

"You love talking about souls, don't you?"

"I'll send your soul flying today!"