Chapter 310: Nathalie As My Wife

I turned to Anya, my expression earnest. "I will go and get the prescription filled and bring my wife, Doctor," I said, my voice steady but carrying a note of urgency.

She nodded, her sharp eyes following me as I made my way out of the room, the weight of her gaze lingering even after I closed the door behind me.

As I stepped into the hallway, the sterile hospital air filled my lungs. I made my way downstairs, my mind racing with possibilities.

Lisa was waiting near the entrance, her posture submissive and respectful, a stark contrast to the confident woman she had been before witnessing my power.

"Boss," she said, her voice soft and deferential, "we’ve sent Madam Nathalie and Tyler to the house. I’ve been waiting here for you."

I nodded, but something nagged at me—the conversation I’d had earlier with Nurse Rachel. She had mentioned that all the men had been taken away from the hospital, leaving only women behind. But my orders had been clear: bring everyone out. So why were these women still here?

"Lisa," I asked, my voice calm but firm, "why are the female doctors and nurses still here? I thought my order was to bring everyone out."

Lisa’s expression faltered for just a moment before she composed herself. "Boss, it’s actually our fault," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "We tried to bring everyone out, but the female doctors and nurses refused. They said it wasn’t appropriate to leave their patients unattended, and the female patients... they were unwilling to move. So I contacted Boss Angela. She told me to leave the female doctors, nurses, and patients alone and only bring the males out."

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. That explained it. Angela had made a judgment call, and it made sense—women, especially those in charge of patients, wouldn’t abandon their posts easily. "Understood," I said, my mind already shifting to the next step.

I looked at Lisa, considering my options. Anya had asked to meet my wife, but I didn’t have one. However, she had also mentioned my concern about hurting my wife due to my condition. That gave me an idea.

Didn’t I tell Anya that my wife couldn’t bear me fucking her so many times?

My mind raced. Nathalie had been fucked hard—her body would still be tender, swollen even. She could pass for a wife who had been pushed to her limits. It was perfect.

"Lisa," I said, my voice low and decisive, "bring Nathalie back here. Now."

Lisa nodded without hesitation, pulling out her walkie-talkie. She contacted the team, her voice clear and authoritative. "Bring Madam Nathalie back to the hospital immediately. Boss’s orders."

I left Lisa to handle the arrangements and stepped out of the hospital, the cool evening air hitting my face. My next stop was the pharmacy to get the medication Anya had prescribed. As I walked, my mind was already three steps ahead—Nathalie’s arrival, Anya’s reaction, and the game I was about to play.

The pharmacy was tucked inside the hospital, a small, sterile space with fluorescent lights humming overhead. I moved quickly, my steps purposeful, my mind already racing ahead.

The pharmacist, a young woman with tired eyes, handed over the medication without question, her movements mechanical. I pocketed the pills, my thoughts already shifting back to Nathalie and the role she was about to play in my game.

I returned to the waiting area, my patience wearing thin as the minutes ticked by. Finally, Nathalie arrived, Lisa guiding her with a respectful nod before stepping back.

Nathalie was still wearing the same dress from earlier—simple, modest, the fabric slightly rumpled from the journey. Her eyes met mine, a mix of curiosity and submission in her gaze.

"Master," she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

I dismissed Lisa with a wave of my hand, and she bowed slightly before disappearing down the hallway. Turning to Nathalie, I lowered my voice, my tone firm but laced with instruction. "Nathalie, you’re going to pretend to be my wife," I said, watching her reaction closely. "Doctor Anya wants to meet her—to assess my ’condition’ and its effects on you."

Nathalie’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as I explained the situation—my fabricated problem of an unrelenting erection, the fear of hurting her, the need for her to play along. "You’ll act as though you’re exhausted, in pain even," I instructed, my voice leaving no room for doubt. "Your body is swollen, tender. You can’t take anymore. Understand?"

Nathalie’s face burned red, her fingers twisting together in front of her. "Yes, Master," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The embarrassment was palpable, but so was her obedience.

I studied her for a moment, my mind calculating. "Will anyone recognize you here?" I asked, my tone casual but probing.

Nathalie shook her head, her eyes downcast. "No, Master," she murmured. "After coming here, I haven’t been out of the house or met anyone. And before... before coming to this world, I didn’t go out much either." Her voice was tinged with a quiet sadness, the weight of her past pressing down on her. "I was just... Walter’s prisoner. Or his housewife. I had no power, no say in anything."

I sighed internally. Even in a world ravaged by disease and scarcity, Nathalie had been trapped in her own kind of cage—isolated, controlled, reduced to nothing more than a possession. It was almost pathetic how little her life had been worth to Walter. But now? Now she was mine, and that meant she had a purpose.

"Good," I said, my voice firm. "Then no one will question you." I reached out, tilting her chin up so her eyes met mine.

"Remember, Nathalie—you’re not just playing a role. You’re helping me. And if you do this right, there will be rewards." My fingers lingered on her skin for a moment, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between us.

Nathalie nodded, her expression a mix of fear and determination. "I understand, Master," she whispered.

I stepped back, my mind already shifting to the next phase of the plan. "Then let’s go," I said, gesturing toward the hallway. "Doctor Anya is waiting."

As we walked, I could feel Nathalie’s tension, the way her body tensed with every step. But I also knew this was the perfect opportunity—Anya would see what I wanted her to see, believe what I wanted her to believe. And Nathalie? She was the key to making it all work.

The door to Anya’s office loomed ahead, and I couldn’t help but smirk. The game was about to get far more interesting.