Chapter 2 THE BROKEN HOMECOMING.

AVERY'S POV:

I felt an overwhelming urge to storm into the house, to confront Chase and demand answers for this chaos. But my feet barely took a step before I was abruptly halted. The sudden loss of momentum left me reeling, like a door slammed shut in my face. This was my house. I should be treated with reverence and respect as Mrs. Grayson. Not being handled as a nobody – invisible, insignificant, and utterly powerless.

The guard shoved me into a room, dark and suffocating, as if it was meant to close around me like a vice. The rough edges of the doorframe scraped against my arms, but I didn't flinch. I barely felt it. I could only stand there, swallowing down bile, my heart beating out some useless plea that this was all a nightmare.

But it wasn't. Chase had left me rotting in that prison, only to serve me divorce papers on the day of my release. As if that wasn't enough, the invitation to his wedding-his wedding to my own sister-had been tucked right beside them like a sick joke.

I gripped the cold edge of the table in front of me, trying to steady myself. I'd rushed here, against every instinct, desperate to see his face and hear some explanation. He'd promised he'd wait for me. And yes, maybe that was my own foolishness-believing him had always been my mistake-but I never imagined he'd be capable of this.

The door creaked open, but I didn't look up. I didn't need to; I knew it was him. That familiar scent of his cologne swept into the room before he did, polished and expensive, nothing like the memory of him I had clung to in that filthy cell.

"Avery." His voice sliced through the silence, smooth, mocking. I finally lifted my eyes to see him standing there, dressed in a suit, as pristine and well-kept as ever. There was a thin smile on his face, one that didn't reach his emerald eyes, and something else-a glint of triumph.

My throat tightened, but I forced out the words. "How could you, Chase?"

His smile widened, almost amused, as he shut the door behind him. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you didn't see this coming."

A laugh, bitter and strangled, escaped me. "I spent three years in prison for you, Chase. I believed you'd be here today, waiting, like you said. And you repay me with this?" My voice shook, but I couldn't hold it back. The disbelief, the betrayal-it was all spilling over. "You married my sister?"

He shrugged, almost casual, as if my question was a minor inconvenience. "She's better suited for the life I'm building now. I need a partner with... less baggage."

The words were brutal. The way he said them, the complete lack of care, twisted something ugly inside me. I took a step back, the room feeling smaller, darker, as he stepped closer.

He tilted his head, taking in my reaction. "Look at you. Pathetic." There was a flash of contempt in his eyes, something cold and unforgiving. "Honestly, Avery, did you think a woman with a criminal record and a face full of desperation would fit into my life? I'm a Grayson," he reminded me.

My mouth went dry, and the sting of his words settled deep, but I refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of him. "You have no idea what I went through for you. I did it all for you, Chase. For us."

"'Us'? Oh, please." His tone was venomous, each word dripping with scorn. "There was never an 'us,' Avery. Just me, and the things I needed."

I felt like I was breaking apart, piece by piece, but I couldn't stop myself. "You're lying. We had something. You just... you can't stand that I know what you really are."

That was when his expression changed-something darker, predatory, like he'd found the one part of me he hadn't destroyed yet. "Oh, I think it's time you understood something very clearly."

He reached out, gripping my wrist so tightly that pain shot up my arm. I stumbled back, but he didn't let go, pulling me closer until I was forced to look into his face, inches from mine. His voice lowered, almost a whisper. "This is my parting gift to you. One last time, for old times' sake."

My stomach dropped, panic flashing through me as I struggled against his hold, but he was too strong. The smirk on his face, the way he looked at me-it was like every shred of the man I once thought I loved had vanished, replaced by someone I didn't recognize.

I tried to push him away, but he pinned me down, his weight trapping me. I was helpless, forced to endure his touch, his brutal reminder of what he thought I was. When he finally let go, I felt stripped of everything I'd fought to hold on to, my heart splintered beyond repair.

He straightened, adjusting his cuffs as if nothing had happened, and sneered down at me. "Enjoy your new life, Avery. I hear your new husband doesn't take kindly to disobedience. He's a real monster-worse than me. A perfect match for you."

I didn't respond. I couldn't. My body ached, my heart shattered with every breath, but I kept my head high, forcing myself to look at him as he left, his laughter forever buried in my memory like the taunt of a devil.

One of his guards grabbed me by the arm, dragging me back toward the front door. His words rang in my ears, condescending and disgusting. "Take this trash to her new dustbin," he said with a laugh.

Through the haze of pain, I caught one last glimpse of him, his figure fading down the hallway, like a bad dream I'd never wake from. I told myself to hold it together, to stay conscious, but darkness pressed in, heavy and relentless.

******

The motion of the car made me feel weightless, lost somewhere between the hollow ache in my chest and the numbness settling over me. The SUV's engine hummed beneath me, rhythmic and distant, like a lullaby pulling me into sleep. But just before the darkness took hold, I felt a shift, the air in the car cooling, becoming almost electric.

I blinked, my vision foggy, and saw a figure in the passenger seat-someone who didn't look like the guards. He was quiet, his gaze forward, but even through my hazy sight, I sensed the intensity of his presence. His silhouette was sharp and powerful, and his jaw was set in an expression that held both strength and calm.

I tried to make out more, my mind struggling to stay alert, but before I could register any more details, a heavy darkness swept over me once more.

The next thing I knew, a hand was on my shoulder, firm yet unexpectedly gentle. "Mrs. Blackwood." The voice was low, controlled, like he was accustomed to giving orders without raising his voice.

I blinked, forcing my eyes open. The dim evening light filtering through the windows momentarily blinded me. Adjusting my focus, I looked up, expecting to see the mysterious figure from my haze. But instead, I found Ryan standing over me, his expression unreadable. The fog had lifted, and reality snapped back into focus. It was just Ryan, trying to wake me up.

"We've arrived," he said, stepping back to give me space to step down.

As I stumbled out, the ache in my chest flared, reminding me of everything that had happened, but his voice pulled me back. "Let me help you."

That was when I heard her-a young girl's voice, impatient and unfiltered, raging like she'd been waiting forever.

"Is she the new maid? I don't like her hair," the little girl muttered, not even glancing up from her tablet.

As Ryan was about to respond, a deep, authoritative voice boomed from behind the little girl. She spun around just about the same time I moved my gaze to see it was. My heart skipped a beat. That was when I saw him - a man so divine, he seemed chiseled by gods themselves. His piercing gaze commanded attention, and his presence took over the room.

"No, Sea," he said, his voice confident, strong hands gently placed on the little girl's left shoulder. "That is Avery Blackwood... your new stepmother."

My eyes widened, my mind reeling. Who was this captivating stranger, exuding power and sophistication? His gaze locked onto mine, and I felt the air escape my lungs.

My mouth hung open, words frozen on my lips. His eyes sparkled with amusement, as if he enjoyed my dumbfounded expression.

And then, just as suddenly, his expression shifted. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He looked fierce and dangerous.