The Lie Of His Deadly Allergy

There was a silent secret in my marriage to Daryl Pierce: he was deathly allergic to human hair.

For him, I shaved my head for three years. I was once a principal dancer, yet I spent my days bald, scrubbing floors and managing his home.

Until yesterday. I walked into his study and saw him tenderly pluck a gray hair from the scalp of his brothers widow, Bella. The pure love in his eyes turned all my sacrifices into a humiliating joke.

The next evening, Daryl hosted a dinner to celebrate his upcoming promotion to CEO. I didnt cry or scream. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed three live chickens, and slammed them onto the dining table.

Since you love plucking so much, have a field day tonight. I stared into his eyes. If you have a reaction, Ill drive you to the ER. If not, our marriage is over.

Before Daryl could speak, Bella rushed forward, tears in her eyes. Hes about to be CEO! How could you, a housewife, make him pluck chickens in front of colleagues? Are you trying to humiliate him?

I laughed. Do you hurt for him that much? Then grab a bird and help.

Bellas face flushed purple. She bit her lip and ran out sobbing. Instinctively, Daryl shoved his chair back and chased after her without a glance at me.

I stood still in the dining room, a bitter smile on my lips.

It seemed I had completely lost that three-year bet with my father.

The guests exchanged incredibly awkward glances before quietly excusing themselves one by one.

Daryl finally paused near the doorway, suddenly remembering I still existed.

He turned around. Seeing my bloodshot eyes, he let out a soft sigh and walked over, gently picking a stray chicken feather off my shoulder.

"Alright, stop throwing a tantrum."

I instinctively recoiled from his touch. My gaze shifted to the full-length mirror in the hallway.

Just because he frowned on our wedding night and whispered that he had a severe follicle allergy.

I was the star of my dance company. And I turned myself into this bald, pathetic shell of a woman for him.

"Why?" I heard my own voice trembling violently.

Daryl sat down on the sofa, not even blinking.

"Bella was deeply insecure. You had that beautiful, flowing hair, and she was already finding grey strands. She actually threatened to end her own life over it."

"I had no choice but to invent an allergy to coax you into shaving your head."

"Besides, it's not like I find you ugly. Why do you care so much about such a trivial detail?"

"Be a good girl, Cici. I just care for Bella the way any man would care for family."

As he spoke, he casually grabbed the loose chickens and tossed them back into their cages.

A harsh, breathless laugh ripped from my throat. I reached behind my back, pulled out a small vintage tin box, and hurled it forcefully at his chest.

"Family? You collect and lock away her plucked grey hairs like they are precious diamonds. Is that how you treat family?!"

Daryl's face drained of color. He crouched on the floor, picking up the scattered hairs, his eyes flashing with intense irritation as he looked up at me.

"Who gave you permission to go into my private safe?"

His knuckles turned stark white.

"Every single grey hair on Bella's head is a testament to what she sacrificed for this family!"

The sheer guilt masking his anger felt like a physical knife twisting in my chest.

Suddenly, Daryl let out a cruel scoff.

"I definitely made the right choice giving the baby to Bella. If I had left him with you? You would have ruined him."

I froze completely. It felt like someone had poured cement down my throat.

"What baby?"

Two years ago, my first child died from asphyxiation during a premature labor.

I cried until the blood vessels in my eyes burst.

It was Daryl who held me in the hospital bed, whispering over and over that we were still young and we would try again.

But right now, sitting casually on our living room sofa, he dropped a bomb that shattered my reality.

"Bella's posthumous baby died hours after birth. I was terrified the grief would kill her. So I paid the doctor to slip you a labor-inducing drug. When your son was born premature, I handed him straight to Bella to raise."

"She has been raising your flesh and blood for years. You should be down on your knees thanking her."

Thanking her?

Thanking them for practically blinding me with grief?

When my hand swung down and slapped him across the face, he didn't even try to dodge.

He just rolled his jaw, reached out, and rested his hand against my pregnant belly.

"Got it out of your system?"

"If you hate it that much, I'll burn the tin box later. You are about to be a mother again, you really need to control your temper."

"I was the one who gave the boy to her. If you want to hate someone, hate me."

I grabbed a heavy glass water tumbler from the table and smashed it directly against his forehead.

"So is this pregnancy supposed to be my sick compensation?!"

Blood immediately trickled down his temple, but he just calmly wiped away a tear that had fallen down my cheek.

"No," he said softly.

Before my racing heart could even process that, he delivered the final blow with absolute entitlement.

"Bella decided she wants a little girl."

Dead silence swallowed the room. The only sound was my own ragged, hyperventilating gasps.

I pointed a shaking finger at the front door.

"Get out!"

Daryl casually wiped the blood from his brow and let out a dark chuckle.

"Cici, you cut ties with your wealthy family years ago."

"You have absolutely nowhere to go. Be a good girl, play your part, and you will always hold the title of Mrs. Pierce."

"I promise you, when this baby is born, I'll let you be her godmother."

He leaned over, picked up the silk shawl Bella had left behind, making sure not to get a single drop of his blood on it.

He walked out the door without looking back.

I stood barefoot among the scattered chicken feathers, laughing hysterically as tears poured down my face.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number of my father, the notorious casino tycoon I hadn't spoken to in three years.

"Dad. I lost the three-year bet."

"I'm ready to come home."

The second I hung up, my phone vibrated in my palm.

Daryl's voice came through the speaker, dripping with suppressed rage.

"Cici, look at what you've done! Bella passed out from the stress you caused. Get over here right now!"

My hands were violently shaking when I pushed open the door to Bella's residence.

It was the house my biological son had lived in for five years. This was the very first time Daryl had ever allowed me inside.

The moment my hand left the doorknob, a blinding, excruciating pain ripped across my scalp.

My five-year-old son, Liam, stood right in front of me. He was gripping the wig I had worn specifically so I wouldn't scare him, laughing so hard he was doubling over.

"Look at the bald freak! That's what you get for bullying my mommy!"

My fingertips trembled as I reached out to touch his cheek. This was the boy I carried for nine months. The boy who was stolen from me before I could even hold him.

"But... I am your real mother."

He froze for a fraction of a second, then shoved me backward with all his might.

"You? Your hands smell like bleach and toilet water. I would rather die than have you as a mom!"

Every single word he spat felt like a rusty nail driven straight into my heart.

"You're just a dirty maid! Don't you ever call me your son!"

I turned my head, looking at Daryl as he walked out of the bedroom with one final, desperate plea in my eyes.

He didn't even blink.

For three years, I had completely abandoned my stage career to take care of his paralyzed mother.

I wiped her down, fed her, turned her in bed to prevent sores. My hands were permanently stained with the harsh smell of medical disinfectants.

I gave up the spotlight. I gave up the applause.

And he refused to say a single word in my defense in front of my own flesh and blood.

Bella walked out of the bedroom, clutching a pair of sharp scissors, pressing the blades against her long, flowing hair.

Large, dramatic tears spilled onto the hardwood floor as her voice wavered.

"Cici, I will cut my hair right now to keep you company! I am so sorry! Just please, I beg you, stop hurting my child!"

She made a massive, theatrical sweeping motion, but the scissors didn't snip a single strand of hair.

I pushed myself up from the floor, a deeply cynical smirk pulling at my lips.

"Don't know how to use them?"

"Let me help you."

Before the words fully left my mouth, a heavy slap cracked across my cheek.

The sharp metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.

Daryl stared at me, his eyes radiating pure ice.

"That is enough! Are you insane? How could you try to force her to take a blade to her own hair! Look at you. No wonder Liam hates your guts."

"We are going to the boutique to pick out her birthday present. You stay here and reflect on your disgusting behavior."

Bella crouched down and gently slipped Liam's designer shoes onto his feet, her movements practiced and tender.

Daryl grabbed his tailored coat and naturally reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Bella's ear.

The two of them moved perfectly in sync, like they had done this a million times before.

The living room fell dead silent.

The nanny stood in the corner, holding a mop. She picked up my wig and tossed it straight into the trash can.

"Mr. Pierce treats his brother's widow like absolute royalty. He pays me top dollar to look after them. You are so lucky to have a husband who values family loyalty so much, ma'am."

I leaned heavily against the wall, forcing myself to stand up straight.

Daryl had claimed it was love at first sight when he saw me dance at a charity gala.

But my father, a ruthless billionaire, saw right through him. He forced me into a bet.

"If your marriage survives three years without a hitch, I will throw the full weight of my empire behind him."

"If not, you come back to New York and marry the man I choose."

The nanny's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Mr. Pierce told me to relay a message. Tomorrow is Bella's birthday banquet. He expects you to show up and publicly apologize."

"If you do, he will graciously allow you to be the godmother of the baby you're carrying."

I let out a dark chuckle. I was just about to tell her to go to hell when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was Bella. Her voice dripped with a sickeningly sweet, breathless tone.

"Cici, we are officially even."

"What?"

"You threw a fit because he plucked my grey hairs. So I returned the favor and gave him a full wax down there."

She paused, lowering her voice into a filthy whisper.

"I even had him tattoo my name right above it. Think of it as my little gift to you."

"Every time he gets excited, it is quite the thrill."

"We owe each other nothing now."

My hands shook violently. I pulled the phone away from my ear just as a text message popped up from my father.

"My private jet will be there in three days."

"Tie up your loose ends."

I took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at the nanny.

"Fine. Tell him I'll be there."

"And tell him I'm bringing a very special gift."

The night of the birthday banquet arrived.

When I walked into the grand ballroom, the socialites immediately judged my faded, outdated dress.

Then their eyes drifted to Bella, who was glowing in a custom emerald-green gown.

"Bella is so incredibly blessed. Her husband died, but she has a fiercely loyal brother-in-law to protect her."

"She is a saint, really. Cici is just a barren, ugly housewife. Bella practically carries that entire family on her back."

Daryl suddenly materialized beside me, his brow deeply furrowed. He reached out to grab my arm.

"Don't listen to their gossip."

I smoothly slipped my arm out of his grasp, looking down to unfold the piece of paper he had aggressively shoved into my palm.

[My pregnancy hormones have been making me unstable. I was completely out of line to disrespect Bella. I am deeply sorry.]

I ripped the paper into tiny pieces and let out a loud, piercing laugh.

"Why on earth would I apologize to a homewrecker?"

The entire ballroom went dead silent. Dozens of eyes snapped toward us.

I reached into my purse and pulled out the vintage tin box.

Daryl's face morphed into absolute panic.

"My husband tenderly plucks grey hairs from Bella's head and locks them in his private safe!"

"She stole my biological son, she sleeps with my husband, and she expects me to apologize?!"

The ballroom exploded into chaotic whispers.

"What is going on? Is he keeping a harem under one roof?"

"Is he sleeping with his dead brother's wife?!"

Bella froze for a fraction of a second before a strange, calculated smile crept onto her lips.

The side doors of the banquet hall suddenly swung open.

My paralyzed mother-in-law was pushed out in her wheelchair, tears streaming down her wrinkled face.

"Cici, how could you pluck my hair to frame poor Bella! Do you have no conscience at all?!"

I stared at her, completely blindsided. "Mom, what are you talking about? You know exactly who I am!"

The old woman trembling rolled up her sleeves, revealing dark, ugly bruises all over her frail arms.

"Ever since this vicious woman lost her first baby, she has been wildly jealous of Bella! She has spent years trying to drive Bella out of this family!"

She gasped for air, crying hysterically.

"Last week, she forced me to let her pluck my white hairs! She told me I only got half a bowl of rice for every hair she pulled!"

I stood rooted to the spot, my mind completely blank.

Bella stepped forward, her voice breaking with practiced sorrow.

"Cici, I am just a grieving widow. Why must you torture us like this? We are a respectable family. How is Daryl supposed to show his face in the corporate world after this?"

"I will pack my bags and leave with my son tonight. I will sell my own blood if I have to, but I will raise my boy on my own!"

Daryl raised his hands, desperately wanting to pull her into a hug, but forced himself to hold back in front of the crowd.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked.

"Bella, this is your home. Absolutely no one is kicking you out."

The old woman in the wheelchair wailed loudly. "Exactly! Bella will control the family finances from now on!"

My fingernails dug so hard into my palms that blood began to drip onto the marble floor.

My voice was raw and hoarse. "Mom. Why are you doing this to me?"

Bella leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear.

"Because, you stupid bitchDaryl's real mother died a decade ago!"

"The paralyzed old hag you've been wiping down for three years is MY biological mother!"

The room spun. It felt like someone had shattered my spine.

Daryl grabbed my arm to keep me from collapsing, a fleeting look of guilt crossing his eyes.

"I couldn't trust a nurse to care for her. You did an excellent job these past few years. I appreciate your hard work."

Suddenly, a glass of red wine shattered against my shoulder, the dark liquid soaking my clothes like blood.

Someone in the crowd yelled.

"No wonder she looks so ugly! Her outside matches her rotten inside!"

"What kind of monster abuses a paralyzed old woman and a helpless widow?!"

Daryl opened his mouth, but Bella suddenly clutched her chest and let out a weak gasp.

"My heart... it's palpitating."

Daryl looked at me, hesitating for only a second.

"Stay here and learn some grace."

"My promotion to CEO is already in motion. Consider this your lesson in humility."

"I'll have my driver pick you up later."

He turned his back on me, gently wrapping his arm around Bella while pushing the wheelchair out of the hall.

He left me alone to face the furious, judging crowd.

I don't know how long I was pushed and shoved.

A heavy, warm cramp gripped my lower stomach. I felt a horrifying rush of fluid soaking my inner thighs.

By the time I dragged myself out of a taxi and stumbled into the emergency room, I still hadn't received a single text from Daryl.

The line at the registration desk was massive.

I leaned heavily against the tiled wall, dragging my feet forward inch by inch.

I desperately grabbed a passing nurse, shoving my marriage certificate into her hands, my lips trembling violently.

"Please... I am Daryl Pierce's wife... please, you have to help me..."

Before I could finish, another agonizing cramp hit, and more fluid rushed down my legs.

Seeing my deathly pale face, the young nurse quickly helped me into a plastic chair.

"Hold on, ma'am. I'll get you registered right now."

I leaned my head back, gasping for air.

No matter how evil Daryl was, the baby inside me was completely innocent.

But a second later, someone violently yanked me out of the chair by my arm.

"This is a respectable hospital! We don't treat lying trash!"

The young nurse was glaring at me with absolute disgust. In her hand, my marriage certificate was ripped perfectly in half.

Another nurse sneered from behind the desk.

"God knows whose bastard she's carrying. She literally brought a forged marriage certificate to skip the line and pretend to be Mr. Pierce's family!"

My blood ran completely cold.

The marriage certificate was a fake.

Daryl had lied to me about the very legal foundation of our relationship.

I lowered my head, the humiliation burning my throat.

"Then... I'll just pay normally."

I handed over my debit card.

The nurse snatched it, swiped it through the machine, and let out a loud, mocking laugh.

"Are you kidding me? The card is declined. You don't have a single dollar to your name, and you're trying to give birth in a private hospital? Maybe think about that before you open your legs."

That was the card Daryl used to transfer my monthly household allowance. How could it be empty?

My throat seized.

My phone buzzed in my hand. It was Daryl.

"From now on, every single dollar you spend requires Bella's written approval."

"Consider this your punishment."

I started shaking uncontrollably. "But the baby..."

He hung up.

The younger nurse finally looked at me with a shred of pity.

"Did your sugar daddy cut you off? Check your purse, maybe you have something worth selling."

My eyes landed on the designer handbag Daryl had bought me for our first anniversary.

"This... this is a limited edition imported bag. It has to be worth something."

The nurse took it, inspected the leather, and smirked.

"Lady, are you blind? The paint is peeling off the corners. It's a cheap knockoff."

I laughed until I tasted blood.

I wasn't just blind. I was completely, utterly braindead.

A crushing, world-ending pain ripped through my abdomen. I lay on the cold hospital floor, feeling the life of my child slowly slipping away into nothingness.

When I finally dragged my broken body back to the house in the dead of night, the living room lights were blinding.

Daryl walked over and handed me a steaming bowl of chicken broth.

"I was just about to send the driver for you. Glad you made it back."

"Bella specifically brewed this to help you recover. Drink it."

I stared at the oily broth. A violent wave of nausea hit me.

I violently retched, vomiting stomach acid all over Daryl's expensive shoes.

His face instantly darkened into a scowl.

"Forget about being the godmother. When this baby is born, I am handing it straight to Bella."

Bella quickly walked over, gripping my arm tightly to support me.

"Cici, please don't be like this. Daryl is just looking out for you. I stood over the stove for hours making this broth. Just take one sip"

Where Daryl couldn't see, her manicured nails dug viciously into the bruised flesh of my arm. The pain made me gasp.

Bella leaned in, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper.

"You better make sure this baby survives. You know why your son is so frail? It's not because he was premature. It's because I've been slipping low-dose poison into his food for years."

"He isn't going to live much longer. So you better push out a healthy little girl for me to play with."

"Why should my husband die while you get to play happy family? Why am I infertile while you get to breed?!"

I shook violently, raising my hand.

I had only one thought in my mind. I was going to rip this woman's throat out.

But before my hand could fall, a sudden, brutal force slammed into my stomach.

I crashed onto the hardwood floor, screaming in agony.

Liam stood over me, clutching a heavy, sharp-edged bronze bookend. He looked up at Bella, practically begging for praise.

"Mommy, I smashed the bald freak in the stomach! I got revenge for you!"

"I promised Uncle Daryl I would protect you with my life!"

Daryl lunged forward, grabbing his son to pull him back, then turned and delivered a brutal kick to my ribs, sending me crashing against the sharp corner of the glass coffee table.

I curled into a tight ball, paralyzed by the blinding pain.

"You absolute lunatic! You are tearing this house apart!"

He turned to his assistant hovering by the door.

"Throw her in the psychiatric ward. Tell them to sedate her so she can cool off."

"I've been way too soft on her. She is about to be the wife of a CEO, she needs to learn how to behave!"

I lay on the floor, bleeding out, watching their perfect little family of three stand together.

I laughed until bloody tears stained the floor.

Later that night, Daryl sat in his pristine study, feeling a strange, creeping sense of anxiety.

He picked up his phone to order his assistant to add some extra amenities to my hospital room.

Before he could dial, his phone rang.

It was Arthur, the Head of HR for the corporate group.

"Daryl, the board just finalized your transfer orders."

Daryl sat up straight. "Which regional branch am I taking over?"

"I'll need to arrange for a medical transport for Cici. She's pregnant, she'll need to travel comfortably."

Arthur stammered awkwardly.

"It's... it's a new position."

Arthur took a deep breath.

"You're being transferred to the agricultural subsidiary..."

"You start tomorrow at the poultry processing plant. Plucking chickens."