Chapter 3

My legs gave out.

I slid down the wall, landing silently on the thick carpet.

The voices in the study faded as a roar filled my ears.

My heart. In Chloe.

My mother, deliberately allowed to die. Or worse.

The pain in my chest, usually a dull ache, flared into a burning agony.

I pressed my hand to it, gasping.

Seven years. Seven years of suffering, of believing his lies.

I crawled away from the door, down the hall, back to my empty suite of rooms.

My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone.

I had to record this. I had to.

I crept back, my phone clutched tight.

I stood by the door, my body shaking, and hit record.

I got enough. Enough of Julian admitting everything to Marcus.

His coldness, his calculation, his obsession with Chloe.

I retreated again, locking myself in my bathroom.

I sank to the floor, the cool tiles a small comfort against my burning skin.

I coughed, a wracking, painful cough.

Blood splattered on the white marble. More than usual.

He knew this artificial heart was killing me.

And he didn't care.

He had my healthy heart beating in Chloe's chest.

I thought of all the times he' d held me, feigning concern when I was in pain.

All the gentle words, the reassurances.

Lies. All of it.

A chilling determination began to replace the despair.

He would pay for this.

Later that evening, Julian found me in the sitting room, staring out the window.

"You're quiet tonight, Ava," he said, coming up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

His touch felt like fire.

I flinched.

"Just tired," I said, my voice carefully neutral.

"Are you feeling unwell? Your heart?" he asked, his usual concerned tone.

I looked at him then, directly into his eyes.

"Julian," I said slowly. "The artificial heart... it's getting worse, isn't it?"

He frowned slightly. "We'll talk to Dr. Peterson again. Maybe there's a new medication."

"Or a new heart?" I pushed, watching his face.

He stiffened, just for a moment, then his expression softened.

"Ava, you know how difficult it is to find a match. Especially with your antibodies now from the artificial heart."

More lies. He had a collection of "backup" hearts for Chloe.

"Of course," I said, forcing a small smile. "You're doing everything you can. I know you are."

He relaxed, smiling back. "Always, my dear."

He believed I was still his naive, trusting wife.

Good.