The darkness was a suffocating blanket, but it was also a shield. I lay there, raw and broken, the phantom pain of Shadow' s death a constant ache in my chest, more real than the throbbing of my battered body. He was gone, and with him, the last vestiges of my naive belief in Dayton's innocence. There was nothing left to lose, no fragile hope to protect. A cold, hard resolve began to crystallize within me. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about vengeance.

As soon as consciousness returned, I dragged my battered body up. Every movement was agony, but the pain was a dull roar compared to the fire now burning in my soul. I began to methodically search the confines of my small prison, not for escape, but for anything that could be repurposed. An old, forgotten service uniform in a dusty closet became my disguise. A rusted discarded letter opener, a crude tool, became my weapon. My tears had dried, replaced by an icy determination.

A soft knock came at the door, startling me. "Brynn?" A timid voice. It was Maria, one of the housemaids, her face usually a tapestry of fear and subservience. "Mr. Reed... he's asking for you. He wants you to come to the main study." Her eyes were wide, filled with a worried pity that made my stomach churn.

I eyed her suspiciously. Maria had always been kind, but kindness in this house was a dangerous commodity. "What does he want?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"I... I don't know," she stammered, wringing her hands. "He looked very angry. And Ms. Mclean is there too." A trap. Of course. Cassidy wouldn't miss an opportunity to gloat, to twist the knife. But a flicker of something in Maria's eyes, a genuine plea, made me hesitate. Maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to learn more, to gather information. I had nothing left to lose.

I followed Maria through the labyrinthine corridors, my battered body moving with a newfound stiffness. The study was opulent, darkly paneled, reeking of old money and power. Dayton stood by the massive fireplace, his back to us, his posture rigid. Cassidy lounged on a velvet settee, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips, a delicate teacup in her hand.

"Ah, Brynn," Cassidy purred, her voice sweet as poison. "We were just discussing you." She gestured to the coffee table. A single sheet of paper lay there, stark white against the dark wood. My heart sank. I knew what it was before I even saw it.

"Dayton," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "What is this?"

He turned, his face a mask of cold indifference. "You know what it is, Brynn. It's time to make things official." His eyes, once so tender, now held nothing but contempt.

I walked towards the table, my feet heavy. The paper was a divorce agreement, simple and brutal. My eyes scanned the bottom. Dayton's signature, bold and decisive, already filled the line. A cold dread seeped into my bones. He had done it. He had signed away our marriage, the last legal tie between us, without a moment's hesitation.

"You signed this?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The question was rhetorical. I saw his name, undeniably his.

"Of course," he said, his tone dismissive. "It's long overdue. Now sign yours, and we can all move on."

My hand trembled, but not with fear. With a simmering rage that threatened to consume me. "No," I said, my voice gaining strength. "No. I won't sign it. Not like this. Not without you looking me in the eye and telling me why."

Cassidy laughed, a brittle, mocking sound. "Oh, Brynn, please. He's made it quite clear, hasn't he? You're a liability, an embarrassment. He has a family now. A real family." She stood, her demeanor radiating smug superiority. "Just sign the papers, and disappear. It's what's best for everyone."

"I'm not signing anything until Dayton tells me to my face," I insisted, crossing my arms, a defiance I hadn't known I still possessed. "I deserve that much."

Cassidy's smile vanished, replaced by a venomous scowl. "You deserve nothing, you pathetic whore!" Her hand shot out, a stinging slap across my face. The force of it made my ears ring, and I stumbled back, my vision momentarily blurring.

"How dare you!" I cried, my own hand flying to my cheek, leaving a smear of fresh blood. A surge of fury, hot and unbridled, coursed through me. I lunged at her, not caring about the consequences, not caring about Dayton, only about silencing her. My hands clenched, ready to strike.

But before I could reach her, a heavy hand seized my arm, twisting it painfully behind my back. It was Dayton, his face a thundercloud. He shoved me hard, sending me sprawling towards the large, ornate window that overlooked the inner courtyard. My head spun, the impact jarring my already bruised body.

I cried out, more in shock than pain, as I lost my footing. My hand instinctively reached out, grasping for something, anything to break my fall. My fingers scraped against the cold glass, then found purchase on the heavy velvet drapes. For a split second, I hung precariously, suspended between the elegant study and the hard stone courtyard below.

Then, the fabric ripped.

A sickening lurch in my stomach, a rush of cold air, and the ground came rushing up to meet me. Pain, blinding and all-consuming, exploded through my body as I hit the unforgiving stone. My head cracked against the ground, a sharp, sickening sound. Darkness nibbled at the edges of my vision, but not before I heard Cassidy's triumphant laugh, and Dayton's shouted instructions to the guards.

My body felt like shattered glass, every joint screaming in protest. A sharp, searing pain shot through my lower abdomen. I gasped, a ragged, strangled sound, as a wave of crimson spread beneath me, stark against the gray stone. A baby. Our baby. The one I hadn't even known I carried. Gone.

Distant shouts, the hurried thud of footsteps. A blurred figure bent over me, then another. Hands touched me, their movements clumsy but urgent. I tried to speak, to scream, but only a soft moan escaped my lips. Through the haze of pain, I saw Dayton. He was rushing towards Cassidy, who was now clutching her own stomach, wailing dramatically. "My baby! She pushed me! She killed our baby!"

Dayton's face, contorted with rage, was focused solely on Cassidy. He cradled her in his arms, whispering reassurances, while I lay bleeding, dying, forgotten on the cold stones of his courtyard. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth. He believed her. He always believed her. And in that moment, as the world faded, I knew true evil wasn't just in the act, but in the indifference of the one who allowed it.

I woke in a hospital bed, the familiar antiseptic smell assaulting my senses. My body was a roadmap of pain, every inch screaming in protest. A thick bandage swathed my head, and my left arm was in a sling. But the deepest ache was in my womb, a hollow, empty space where life had once flickered. My baby. Gone.

The door creaked open, and Cassidy entered, a vision of pristine white, a bouquet of lilies clutched in her hand. Her smile was saccharine sweet, but her eyes, filled with a chilling triumph, held no pretense. "Awake already, Brynn?" she chirped, pulling a chair close to my bed. "Such resilience. Too bad it couldn't save your... little problem." She gestured vaguely to my abdomen.

My jaw clenched, but I said nothing. My throat was raw, my body too weak to fight.

"The doctors said it was a miracle I held onto mine," she continued, patting her flat stomach with a self-satisfied smirk. "But you, dear Brynn... so clumsy. Falling down the stairs like that. Tsk, tsk."

I stared at her, my eyes burning. She pushed me. But I couldn't speak, couldn't accuse. Who would believe me? Dayton clearly hadn't.

"Don't worry," she cooed, "Dayton believes me. He always does. He's devastated, of course, about what you did to our baby. But he's a strong man. He'll get through it. Especially with me by his side." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. "And you, Brynn, you'll be signing those divorce papers. Or perhaps, something far more... permanent."

A nurse bustled in, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup. "Time for your dinner, Ms. Miles," she said cheerfully.

Cassidy's eyes lit up. "Oh, perfect! Brynn, darling, I made sure they brought you something special. Your favorite, I believe? Shrimp bisque." She pushed the bowl closer to me, the pungent aroma making my stomach clench.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Shrimp. I was violently allergic to shrimp. It had been one of the first things Dayton learned about me, one of the many small details he had once cherished.

I shook my head, pushing the bowl away with my good hand. "No, thank you," I croaked, my throat tight.

Cassidy's smile tightened at the edges. "Nonsense, you need your strength. Dayton wants you to recover quickly." Her eyes dared me to refuse.

Just then, Dayton entered, his face grim. "Brynn," he said, his voice cold. "Eat your soup. You need to get well." He looked at the bowl, then back at me, his gaze unreadable.

"I can't," I whispered, my eyes pleading with him, searching for any flicker of recognition, any memory of my allergy. "Dayton, I'm allergic. You know that."

He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a short, hollow laugh. "Allergic? Brynn, honestly, your theatrics are exhausting. You're trying to manipulate me again, aren't you?" He picked up the spoon, a terrifying glint in his eyes. "Eat it. Or I'll feed it to you myself."

My heart plummeted. He had forgotten. Or perhaps, worse, he simply didn't care. The man who once memorized every detail about me, who had rushed me to the ER when I accidentally ingested a tiny piece of shrimp, now stood before me, prepared to poison me himself. The ultimate betrayal. The ultimate erasure. He really was gone. And I, truly, was utterly alone.

Chapter 3

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