The Obedient Wife He Created Novel by Celeste Wren _ Novel





The Obedient Wife He Created Chapter 01

After three years locked in a psychiatric hospital, my husband Horace came to pick me up with his pregnent mistress Amanda.
I took her bag and held the car door open for her, like I had been born to serve.
Horace ordered, “From now on, you’ll be taking care of Mandy. She and her baby will be your family.”
I nodded obediently.
After he drove my parents to their deaths, he went and found me a new family. How thoughtful.
When we got home, I meticulously cared for Amanda and her son. Everyone “praised” me for being such a considerate and useful maid.
But Horace wasn’t pleased. “You weren’t like this before, Daph.”
I smiled. Before? Too bad. That version of me was gone forever.
Chapter 1
After three years locked away in the psychiatric hospital by Horace Jenning, I had finally learned to be compliant.
The day he came to pick me up, Amanda Olson, his pregnant lover, was with him.
I took her bag and held the car door open for her, like I had been born to serve.
Horace ordered, “From now on, you’ll be taking care of Mandy.
“She and her baby will be your family.”
I nodded obediently.
After he drove my parents to their deaths, he went and found me a new family. How thoughtful.
When we arrived home, I got up at five every morning to study recipes for pregnant women.
At eight, I woke up Amanda on time and accompanied her to her prenatal yoga class.
By ten, I had tea and desserts ready, listening as she and her friends “praised” me for being a considerate and useful maid.
The days went by until Amanda gave birth.
When the new family portrait was hung on the wall, Horace stared at the warm picture of three, his voice trembling.
“Daph, why didn’t you insist on being in the photo with us?”
Insist? But all I’d learned in the psychiatric hospital was how to obey—and how to drive sane people mad.
***
Hearing Horace’s question, I replied while wringing out the cloth in my hands, “Mr. Jenning, I don’t like taking photos.”
He frowned, studying me intently, as if searching for cracks in my calm.
Under his scrutinizing gaze, I quietly wiped the dust off the portrait frame and straightened it until it hung perfectly aligned.
Amanda watched us from the staircase, a flicker of triumph in her eyes.
She then came down and threw herself into Horace’s arms, standing on her toes to kiss him.
“You’re back!
“I tried to put the baby to sleep all by myself, and it actually worked!”
Horace subconsciously glanced at me.
I nodded, lips curving into a polite smile as I complimented her, “Mrs. Jenning was amazing. She got the boy to sleep with no trouble.”
His frown deepened.
But I didn’t have time for small talk—the soup I’d made for Amanda was still simmering.
I hurried to the kitchen, put on heat-resistant gloves, and carefully carried the pot out.
Amanda was already seated at the dining table, her smooth calf brushing against Horace’s leg.
He gave a fond smile, but it vanished the moment he saw me.
I ladled the soup onto Amanda’s plate and gently blew to cool it down.
She flashed a sweet smile at me. “Daph, sit down and eat with us.”
Horace pulled out a chair and nodded.
“Thank you for helping with the baby. You should rest.”
I lowered my head and politely declined, “It’s my honor to help Mrs. Jenning care for her son. I don’t need to rest.”
Amanda’s lips curled in satisfaction as she linked arms with Horace, playing cute.
“Daph’s so good at taking care of people. She deserves a raise.”
I stood obediently beside the dining table, memories rushing back.
Once, Amanda had caught Horace holding my hand. Then she claimed the soup was too salty and made me stand in the scorching backyard until sunset.
My legs were like lead, and my skin was peeling from sunburn.
I knew she was warning me that Horace was hers, and I shouldn’t even think about making a move.
After finishing her soup, Amanda pushed the plate with the leftovers toward me.
Not understanding what she wanted, I dumped them in the trash.
Suddenly, she raised her voice.
“Daph, if you didn’t want them, you could’ve just said so.
“I knew you could use the strength, so I saved the herbs in the soup for you.
“They cost a fortune. How could you throw them away like that?”
Horace looked over, the baby in his arms, his brow furrowed.
Panicking, I bent down immediately, grabbed the herbs now covered in grime and sauce, and shoved them into my mouth.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jenning. You’re so kind to me.”
With a worried look in his eyes, Horace rushed over despite still holding the baby, one hand reaching toward my mouth.
“Spit them out.”

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