Chapter 3

"Apologize to her, Ava," Liam repeated, his voice dangerously low. His grip on my arm tightened, a brutal reminder of his power. Chloe stood behind him, a single, perfect tear tracing a path down her cheek, her expression a masterpiece of wounded innocence.

I looked from his cold, unforgiving face to hers, and a wave of utter futility washed over me. Arguing was pointless. He had already chosen his side. "I'm sorry, Chloe," I mumbled, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

It wasn't enough. "I can't hear you," Liam said. "Say it like you mean it."

"I'm sorry," I said again, louder this time, my eyes fixed on the floor.

Liam let go of my arm, shoving me slightly. "Chloe is pregnant and under a great deal of stress because of you. She needs peace and quiet. You, on the other hand, clearly have too much energy." His eyes scanned the room and settled on the door to the terrace. "You need to cool off."

He dragged me out of the bathroom and through the house, his stride long and angry. He shoved open the glass doors to the large, ornate greenhouse he had built for me on my last birthday. It had been my sanctuary, a place filled with exotic flowers and the scent of damp earth, where I would go to sketch and think. Now, he was turning it into my prison.

"You will stay out here until you learn some gratitude," he said, his voice echoing in the vast glass structure. It was the middle of a heatwave, and even at night, the air inside the greenhouse was thick and suffocatingly hot. He slammed the door behind him and locked it from the outside.

I was trapped. The heat was immediate and oppressive, sticking my clothes to my skin. Sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down my back. I sank to the tiled floor, the heat radiating up through the stone, and curled into a ball. This place, once a symbol of his love, was now a tool for his cruelty. The beautiful, vibrant flowers seemed to mock me with their silent, colorful life. The memory of him presenting it to me, a huge red ribbon tied around the doors, his eyes shining with pride, was a bitter, painful echo.

Hours passed. My throat was parched, and a dizzying headache began to pound behind my eyes. I felt weak, dehydrated, and utterly alone. My anger had dissolved into a dull, throbbing despair. Before he had dragged me out, I had managed to grab the small vial from my pocket. I fumbled for it now, my fingers clumsy. I dry-swallowed the second dose. The liquid was tasteless, but it represented a promise. Forget. Forget this heat. Forget this humiliation. Forget him. The thought of oblivion was the only thing that kept me from screaming.

The sun rose, turning the greenhouse into an oven. The light was blinding. Sometime in the late morning, Liam finally unlocked the door. He stood there, silhouetted against the bright light, looking down at me with no emotion on his face.

"Have you learned your lesson?" he asked coolly.

I was too weak to answer, just nodding faintly.

"Good," he said. "Get cleaned up. We have the foundation's charity gala tonight. You will behave." He looked me over, a flicker of something-maybe suspicion-in his eyes. "And don't think for a second I don't know you're up to something, Ava. Try anything, and you'll regret it."

Later that day, as I was getting ready for the gala, Chloe came into my bedroom without knocking. She was already dressed in a stunning, form-fitting gown that subtly highlighted the fake baby bump she wore strapped to her stomach. She walked over to my jewelry box.

"Liam said I should borrow something for tonight," she said, her voice casual, as she sifted through my things. Her eyes landed on a simple, elegant ring. It was a sapphire, surrounded by small diamonds, a family heirloom that had belonged to Liam' s mother. He had given it to me on our wedding day, sliding it onto my finger as he promised to love and cherish me forever.

"I think I'll wear this one," Chloe said, picking it up.

"No," I said, my voice sharp. "Not that one. That's mine."

Chloe pouted, turning to Liam who had just appeared in the doorway. "Liam, Ava won't let me borrow the pretty blue ring."

Liam walked over and took the ring from the box. He didn't even look at me. He turned to Chloe and took her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit.

"It looks beautiful on you, sweetheart," he said, his voice full of the tenderness he once reserved for me. "You should keep it."

He was giving away a piece of our history, a symbol of our vows, to the woman who had destroyed us. He was publicly and symbolically replacing me. The humiliation was absolute, a cold, sharp pain that cut deeper than any physical punishment. I stood there, mute and shaking, as they walked out of the room together, leaving me with the ghost of a promise and the crushing reality of my new life.