My Savior Was My Monster
Language: en
I suffered from severe pyrophobia and haphephobia. My fiancé, a top psychologist, spent three years of gentle patience, pulling me back from hell. I thought he was my savior and decided to say yes to his hundredth proposal. But on the day I was trying on my wedding dress, I accidentally pushed open the secret door in his study, disguised as a bookshelf. Behind a one-way mirror, the walls were covered with photos of my agonizing struggles, along with an experimental report about to be published. And he was holding another heavily pregnant woman in his arms, his voice chilling: "She's…