Chapter 4

"Blake! Let me go!" I fought wildly, stumbling as he hauled me up the stairs.

At the master bedroom door, he wrenched it open and shoved me inside. He swept a hand toward my scattered belongings, his gaze pure ice. "This room is Chloe's now. All your perfumes, your makeup, this whole pile of useless junk...I want it gone!"

Then he grabbed the frame from my dresser, the one with our third anniversary photo, and smashed it on the floor.

CRASH!

Glass shards scattered. The smiling faces in the photo, once so tender, were now fractured and sliced apart by the fragments.

"No!" The cry tore from my throat as I lunged instinctively. Beneath it lay a cherished family photo of my parents and me, my most precious keepsake.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Blake didn't give me a chance to react. Eager to assert his dominance in front of his friends and mistress, and perhaps to cover up his own guilt, his actions grew more brutal. He grabbed a crystal ornament from my bedside table, a limited edition coming-of-age gift my father had given me before he passed away.

"What is this garbage doing here, taking up space?!" He raised his hand, ready to hurl it into the hallway.

"Blake! That was from my father!" I threw myself forward, a woman possessed, clawing to get it back.

During our struggle, a flicker of impatient brutality crossed Blake's eyes.

"Get out of my way! Don't push your luck!" He swung his arm, shoving me hard.

Wearing high heels, my balance was already precarious. I lost control, falling backward. A searing pain exploded in my lower back as I slammed into the sharp corner of a wooden dresser, and my vision blurred.

But what I couldn't avoid was the shattered glass on the floor. My hand slammed onto the fragments.

"Agh-"

Blood instantly gushed out, staining the expensive hand-knotted rug and soaking the shattered family photo.

Pain. Excruciating pain.

I slumped to the floor, clutching my bleeding hand, my face ashen as I stared at the man I had loved for seven years.

Blake's eyes visibly flashed with alarm when he saw the blood. But he quickly straightened his back, looking down at me, his voice devoid of guilt, instead filled with blame.

"You brought this on yourself by trying to grab it. Whose fault is that but your own?"

"Ava, look at you, acting like some kind of raging lunatic. Where's your elegant upbringing? No wonder you can't keep a man."

Chloe heard the commotion downstairs and leaned over the stairwell. She covered her mouth, her face a mask of feigned terror. "My god! So much blood. Blake, is Ava hurting herself just to manipulate you? How pathetic."

Her words extinguished the last trace of hesitation in Blake's eyes. He stepped over my bleeding hand as if it were a piece of trash on the floor.

"If you love this mess so much, you can sleep with it in the guest room. And if I hear one more sound from you that upsets Chloe..."

He crouched, his hand gripping my chin and forcing my head up. His fingers dug in with a pressure that threatened to crack bone.

"Ava, don't make me hit a woman."

"Apologize to Chloe. And get out!"

At that moment-

BANG!

The front door downstairs exploded inward with a deafening crash. A voice, old but ringing with absolute authority, echoed through the mansion.

"Let's see who dares to lay a finger on Ms. Sterling!"