Page 1 of Adored By Jonah

Prologue

Madelyn Russo

“I don’t feel good mommy.”

I look in the rearview mirror and find my daughter Gracie, holding her belly and looking ready to cry. I picked her up early from daycare when her teacher called and told me she was running a fever and threw up. Thank God my boss at the bank understood and let me take the rest of the day off to take care of her.

“I know sweetie. We’ll be home soon and I’ll get you some medicine and then you can go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep mommy,” Gracie whines.

“I know you don’t sweetie, but that’s what will make you feel better,” I say looking back at her. Gracie’s face is turning paler as the minutes go by and if I don’t get us home quickly, I fear she’ll get sick in the car. I hate that my sweet girl isn’t feeling well.

A few tense minutes later I turn down my street and notice my husband’s car parked in the driveway. That’s weird, he shouldn’t be home at ten-thirty in the morning. I pull up beside Mark’s black Aston Martin and park my Durango. As soon as I get out, I open up the back door and see Gracie is on the verge of tears. God, I hope she doesn’t have the flu. I quickly pull Gracie out of her car seat and into my arms. Her body is hot to the touch and I swear her temperature has risen since I picked her up fifteen minutes ago.

I walk us into the house only to have rock ‘n roll music blasting and Mark nowhere to be seen. I shake my head and quickly tell Alexa to turn the music off. Setting Gracie down on the kitchen counter I pull open a drawer and take out the thermometer to check her temperature. Before I have a chance to turn it on I hear grunting and furniture squeaking coming from my bedroom. My stomach sinks, did Mark really take off work to come home to watch porn and masturbate? I know our sex life hasn’t been great lately, but come on, this is insane and not what I need right now. I’m trying to take care of our sick daughter for crying out loud.

I pick Gracie up and walk into the living room before setting her on the couch. I quickly find a video to keep her busy and hand her my phone. “Stay here sweetie, okay?”

“Okay mommy,” she squeaks in her adorable three year old voice.

Giving her a reassuring smile, I walk out of the living room and down the hall to my bedroom and immediately notice the door is closed. Shaking my head, I open the door and walk in. I’m beyond speechless by what I see taking place in front of me. A naked redhead with huge fake boobs is tied to my bed with some of Mark’s ties.

They don’t notice me at first as I stand there numbly watching Mark fuck her vigorously, the veins in his neck popping out as he focuses on what his cock is doing to her pussy. He’s got her ankles propped up on his shoulders and he’s wearing a look of complete satisfaction.

I stand there shocked knowing I’ve never put that look on my husband’s face. I can’t help comparing what they’re doing to the kind of sex we have. It’s mediocre at best. It’s always in the middle of the night and usually he’s screwing me from behind lazily. It happens so fast that it’s over before I ever get a chance to come and I wind up feeling empty and used. He used to apologize afterward and give me a quick kiss on the back of my neck, but now it’s a mumbled sorry before he rolls over and is snoring less than five minutes later.

I watch him lower her legs then turn her over onto her hands and knees all while keeping himself buried inside her as the whore in my bed squeals in delight. He does it so well he’s had to have done this move before, and not on me. When I gasp, she looks over and her eyes go wide. Instead of having the decency to stop what’s happening or at the very least look shocked to see me, she grins at me then thrusts back and moans loudly.

“Oh yeah baby. You like it when I give it to you hard? Don’t you? Tell Daddy you like it.”

“Daddy?” I finally explode.

Mark glares at me. “Madelyn, what the fuck are you doing here?” He asks, freezing with his hands on her hips.

“What amIdoing here?” I ask, motioning wildly at them. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I shout.

“Don’t be dumb Maddie. Get out of here and go wait in the living room.”

“No. Take your whore and get out of my house.” I scream, putting my clenched fists on my hips.

“This is my fucking house bitch.”

The whore who’s laying in my sheets snorts and gives me a dirty look, like I’m the pathetic one in this situation.

I hate that he’s right. I hate that he’s the one who pays the bills and he never lets me forget it. In fact, that’s his reasoning for never helping out around the house. The only thing he is responsible for is the yard and he pays someone to do that. When I brought up the idea of getting someone to help out around the house, he threw a fit. He said we didn’t need anybody and it was my job to take care of everything. Couldn’t he see how exhausted I was every night? I guess he couldn’t. He was too concerned with all the women he was fucking then to care about his wife. I’m the one who takes care of Gracie which I have no problem with, I love my daughter. But it kills me that he doesn’t have a relationship with our daughter unless it’s for pictures or in front of his friends and family. Everyone thinks he’s the perfect dad, the perfect provider, the perfect husband. But he’s not perfect at all and this proves it. All this time I thought I was the one doing something wrong, I thought I was the problem in our marriage, but I’m not. How could I be?

I look down at his dick to see if he has a condom on and my stomach twists when I see that he doesn’t. Shit, we haven’t been using protection either. “How many women have you fucked in our bed?” I gasp, sick to my stomach. The asshole gives me an evil, satisfied grin. “How could you do this to us?” I shout, then hear Gracie cry from the living room.

“I can’t believe you brought her into our home Mark…” I utter in shock and despair, before walking out of the bedroom.

I’m trembling. I want to break down and cry. I want to scream. I want to throw things. I want to break everything in this damn house! But I can’t because my daughter is in the other room needing me to be the bigger person in this fucked up situation. I have to be strong for her. I have to be strong for us. When I get to the living room my poor baby is crying. Picking Gracie up, I kiss her forehead and she’s burning up. The first thing I do is bring her into the kitchen and give her some medicine, then take her temperature. She’s got a fever of one hundred point five. Hoping it’s just a twenty-four hour bug, I make her a cup of water then take her into her bedroom and start grabbing all the luggage I can find, which isn’t much. I grab all of her clothes and everything that she owns and pack as much of her things as I can. I even take the pillowcases off of her pillows to pack some toys in them.

“Daddy,” Gracie says, but he doesn’t acknowledge her.

My heart stops, but I don’t. I continue packing. I don’t have anything to say to him.

“What are you doing?” He asks. “I said what the fuck are you doing? Stop.” He yells, snatching one of Gracie’s stuffed animals out of my hand, causing the leg to rip off and Gracie to yelp.

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