Late one night, as I scrolled through social media, I came across a relationship influencer with over a hundred thousand followers, teaching men how to "control" their wives.

"She actually tried to talk to me about privacy?" he scoffed. "I ignored her for three days, and she handed over all her passwords, crying and begging me not to leave her."

The comments exploded almost instantly.

The chat went wild. [Take me under your wing, man!]

I felt sick to my stomach. Then, without warning, he lifted his phone and pressed a kiss to the screen.

A face appeared in the reflection.

Mine.

Smiling, he turned back to his audience of thousands. "See this? This is the perfect wife I spent three years training."

A chill ran through me. I clicked into his profile and scrolled all the way back to his first post.

The upload date was the same day we got married.

He claimed he was filming prank videos and that it was all just for the livestream—no wonder he got increasingly out of hand.

That was when it hit me: he had been lying to me all along. From the moment I stepped into that marriage, I had been nothing more than his experiment, his content, his source of money.

Fine.

If that was the case, then I would turn his livestream into his worst nightmare.

I picked up my phone and sat directly beneath the camera he had installed, then sent a deliberately suggestive message to another man.

Three seconds later, the bedroom door burst open.

Matthias stormed in and snatched my phone. After reading the message, his lips pressed into a tight line.

However, he did not explode. He did not even look at me.

Instead, he turned, opened his livestream, and faced the camera.

"Send something through, and I'll show you exactly how to put a cheating woman in her place."

Matthias Lynch pushed his phone straight toward the camera, the motion sharp and deliberate.

On the screen was a message I had sent just moments ago.

[Meet me at the usual place.

To: Yoel Rogers]

For a split second, there was silence. Then the livestream chat exploded.

[Yo, is she cheating?]

[No way. Three years together and she's still sneaking around?]

[Man, you've lost control. Just break her legs and be done with it.]

The comments flooded in faster than I could follow.

Then, just as suddenly, the stream cut to black.

Matthias slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to face me. There was no anger on his face. No shouting.

He was smiling.

My stomach dropped. I knew that smile far too well.

For the past three years, every time before he hurt me, he wore that exact same expression. Calm, almost gentle, as if nothing were wrong at all.

He stepped closer and crouched in front of me. The same hand that had just been playing to the camera then lifted and brushed lightly against my cheek.

"Lily," he murmured, his voice low and unhurried, "trying something new?" Each word landed slowly, heavily, as if he were savoring them.

"Looks like I gave you too much freedom," he continued. "You've forgotten the rules."

I shook my head, panic rising in my chest as tears spilled down my face. "No… I don't know anyone named Yoel. It must have been spam. I didn't send anything like that…"

He did not hit me. Instead, he straightened and looked me over from head to toe, as if assessing something that belonged to him.

"No rush," he said lightly. He picked up my phone. There was almost nothing left on it. Every app, every contact was gone. He had deleted them long ago.

"Look, Lily." He tilted the screen toward me. His tone was soft, almost affectionate, but it made my skin crawl. "In your world, there's only me. Isn't that better? Why let anyone else in?"

I lunged forward, grabbing onto his legs, my fingers clutching at him as if I could stop what was coming. "Please, don't check. There's really nothing there…"

In the struggle, my thumb brushed against the sensor.

The phone unlocked. The screen flickered and opened straight into the Notes app.

At the very top sat a folder labeled "Diary."

Matthias shoved me aside and tapped it open. Lines of text filled the screen, dense and intimate, stretching on and on.

He began scrolling.

Slowly at first, then even slower.

[Today my husband finished everything I made. I was so happy.]

[He said I'm useless, maybe he's right. I don't think I could survive without him.]

His finger stilled when he reached the last entry, dated yesterday, and he read on.

[I've been saving money in secret for three years, and I finally made it to hundred thousand dollars. Tomorrow, I'm going to order the car he's always wanted. Maybe if I surprise him, he won't be angry with me anymore.]

Matthias stared at the number for a long moment.

Then he swallowed.

The tension in his body visibly eased. He cleared his throat, as if resetting himself, and reopened the livestream.

When the camera came back on, his entire demeanor had changed. He smiled, relaxed now, almost smug, angling the phone so the audience could see him clearly.

"See that?" he said. "That's how you keep her in line." There was pride in his voice.

"She sent that message on purpose just to get a reaction out of me. However, behind my back, she's been saving up to buy me a car."

He let out a short laugh. "Got caught, and now she's trying to make it up to me. Three years in, and I've got her exactly where I want her."

The chat turned instantly.

[Matthias is something else. He's got his wife completely under his thumb.]

[A hundred grand just like that? Man, I wish I had a wife like that.]

[Your wife's obedience is on another level.]

I curled up in the corner of the bed, burying my face in my hands, my shoulders trembling with quiet sobs. Yet a faint smile still lingered at the edge of my lips.

He was exactly as easy to fool as I expected.

That money was never a gift. It was bait.

It was more than enough to keep him from looking any deeper into the name "Yoel."

The next night, Matthias decided to ride the momentum from the previous stream. As soon as he went live, he introduced a new donation challenge, calling it "Discipline at Home."

"Alright, guys," he said, leaning back into the couch and crossing one leg over the other. "Even if yesterday was just a misunderstanding, she still tried to test me. That kind of behavior needs to be corrected."

He glanced at the screen, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"So here's the deal," he said, glancing at the screen. "If donations hit ten grand tonight, I'll have her kneel and read a self-reflection." He let out a soft chuckle. "Not punishment. Just… a little education."

The stream picked up almost instantly. Viewer count climbed fast, blowing past a hundred thousand within minutes.

Donation alerts began popping up across the screen, one after another, each with its own sound and flashing banner. Messages flooded in along with them, stacking faster than they could be read.

The numbers kept rising.

Less than five minutes in, the total had already passed ten thousand.

Matthias smiled, clearly satisfied.

He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a rigid plastic board, then set it down in front of me. Its surface was lined with rows of raised ridges, uneven and unforgiving.

"On your knees." He pointed at it as he spoke, his tone calm, almost casual.

I stepped forward in my thin pajama pants, my chest tightening as I looked down at it. Biting my lower lip, I slowly lowered myself.

The moment my knees touched the surface, pain shot through me, sharp and immediate, climbing straight up my spine and into my skull. A muffled gasp slipped from my throat, and my body wavered for a second before I forced myself to stay upright.

The chat erupted.

[She actually did it. He runs that house, no question.]

[That thing looks brutal. She's tougher than I thought.]

[Make her read it. Louder.]

Matthias handed me a stack of printed pages. He crouched down, carefully straightening them before placing them into my hands, as if he were handling something delicate.

"Go on, baby," he said softly. "If you did something wrong, you admit it. That's how you learn."

My fingers tightened around the pages as my voice began to shake.

"I have failed in my role as a wife and tried to challenge my husband's authority. I fully acknowledge my mistakes…"

The words tasted like ash as I forced them out. Tears blurred my vision, slipping down my cheeks as I continued reading.

He did not like the pace.

After a moment, he stood and walked over, then crouched in front of me again. A freshly lit cigarette rested between his fingers as he leaned closer, his voice dropping near my ear.

"Lily, are you not taking this seriously?"

Before I could react, he pressed the burning tip against the back of my neck. A sharp sting tore through me, followed by the faint, sickening smell of scorched skin. I flinched instinctively, my arms coming up to shield myself.

The loose sleeve of my top slipped down, exposing my wrist. Old scars lined the skin there, thin and overlapping, remnants of the past three years. Marks left from belts, from charging cables, from everything he had used to tie me down.

I held my wrist still, just within the frame of the camera, for a few quiet seconds.

The chat slowed.

[Wait… what's that on her wrist?]

[Zoom in. Those don't look self-inflicted.]

[This feels off. Is this actually real?]

[Someone call the cops.]

The hesitation did not last long before it was swallowed by a fresh wave of noise in the chat, but it had already been enough. Screenshots were being taken, spreading faster than the comments themselves.

Matthias noticed, yet instead of reacting, he remained completely calm as he stepped toward the camera, reached down, and took hold of my wrist, lifting it up for everyone to see.

"Relax, guys," he said easily.

"She had some issues before she met me, you know, depression and all that. Those scars are from back then. She did that to herself." He shrugged, as if it were nothing.

"I've been the one taking care of her these past few years. Honestly, without me, she wouldn't be who she is now."

His tone turned almost patient, almost reasonable.

"Sometimes I have to be strict. It's for her own good. You know how it is."

Then he turned back to me and gently patted my hair.

"Right, Lily?"

I nodded, my movements stiff and mechanical.

The chat shifted again.

[Yeah, that makes sense.]

[He's just trying to help her.]

[Girls like that need structure.]

Just like that, the doubt faded.

I remained kneeling, the pressure grinding into my knees as blood slowly seeped through the fabric, dripping into the grooves beneath me.

When the viewer count peaked, Matthias ended the stream without warning.

"That's it for tonight."

The screen went dark.

He crouched in front of me once more, his thumb brushing away the tears on my face. His voice softened, almost gentle again.

"Next Wednesday marks three years since I started fixing you," he said. "I'll go through your diary entries on stream. Let everyone see what real progress looks like."

He straightened, smoothing out his pants as if nothing had happened.

"You should be grateful, Lily," he added lightly. "Without me, you'd be nothing."

To keep the hype alive before next Wednesday's anniversary, Matthias brought his mother, Fiona Carter, to stay with us.

The moment she stepped inside, she did not even bother changing her shoes. She walked straight up to me and started yelling, pointing a finger right at my face.

"It's been three years and you still can't give us a child! What's the point of marrying you? You're nothing but a useless freeloader!"

Matthias had already set up his phone.

The livestream was titled "Setting Boundaries with a Daughter-in-Law."

Viewers poured in, especially those drawn to family drama.

[You're right. What's the point if she can't even have kids?]

[Man, Matthias got screwed. Three years down the drain.]

[His mom's not messing around. She needs to set Lily straight.]

Fiona dropped onto the couch and started ordering me around. "Go make me some coffee. I want it hot. You hear me?"

I kept my head down, walked into the kitchen, and came back with a cup of steaming coffee, bending slightly as I handed it to her.

The moment her fingers touched the cup, she suddenly shoved it toward me. The scalding coffee spilled out, splashing all over the top of my foot.

"Ah!"

I cried out. The skin on my foot turned red instantly, swelling and blistering as cold sweat broke out across my body from the pain.

Fiona slapped her thigh and complained to the camera.

"Look at this! She can't even carry a cup properly. Trying to burn an old woman like me!"

Matthias sat nearby, grinning as he narrated to the viewers.

"See that, brothers? Evil meets its match. When my mom steps in, she handles everything."

I clutched my foot, trembling.

Fiona stood up and walked over to the TV cabinet, rummaging through it. She pulled out a hospital report and turned back, holding it up to the camera.

"Everyone, take a good look! This is her test result from the hospital. The doctor said there's something wrong with her body. She'll never get pregnant! Our family must have the worst luck imaginable!"

The chat was filled with laughter and insults. Cruel words scrolled across the screen nonstop.

With red-rimmed eyes, I pushed myself up from the floor and stumbled toward her.

"Mom, please don't show that. I'm begging you…"

I reached out, trying to grab the report.

In the struggle, I deliberately slammed into the floor lamp beside us. It crashed to the ground with a loud bang. The lampshade shattered, and a harsh beam of light shone directly onto the paper in Fiona's hand.

The report was printed on thin paper. Last night, I had switched the paper in the printer, replacing it with scrap paper that had another report printed on the back.

Under the strong light, the text on the reverse side showed through clearly. With the high-definition camera, every word was impossible to miss.

Someone in the chat with medical knowledge spotted it first.

[Wait. There's text on the back!]

[I zoomed in. Severe oligospermia. Patient name: Matthias!]

[Are you kidding me? That's not Lily's fertility test. It's Matthias's own report printed on scrap paper!]

[So in the end, he's the one with the problem? This is hilarious!]

The screen was instantly flooded with the nickname "Weak Sperm Bro," drowning out all the earlier insults.

Matthias had been smiling at his earnings in the backend, unable to hide his excitement. However, when he caught a glimpse of the chat, his smile froze.

He leaned closer to the phone, and his face changed instantly.

In a panic, he rushed over and yanked out the power cord, killing the stream instantly.

Silence fell over the room.

Fiona stood frozen, still clutching the report, while Matthias slowly turned his head to look at me.

Curled up in the corner, I hugged my knees and met his gaze.

The first blow had landed, and it had struck exactly where it hurt most. His pride.