Shattered Vows: The Wife's Bloody Escape

The smell of overcooked pastry filled the penthouse.

Daisy Abbott stared through the glass of the oven door. The crust of the Wellington steak, which had been golden and perfect an hour ago, was now dry and flaking.

She turned her head. The vintage grandfather clock in the corner of the massive living room ticked loudly. The brass hands pointed to eleven o'clock.

Her stomach tightened into a hard knot.

She picked up her phone from the marble island. She dialed Emmett's private number. It rang twice before clicking over to his cold, automated voicemail.

Daisy lowered the phone. The silence in the apartment felt heavy, pressing down on her chest.

Suddenly, the screen of her iPad, resting on the counter, lit up. A breaking news notification from Page Six flashed across the glass.

Daisy caught Emmett's name in the headline. Her heart skipped a beat. Her fingertips went cold.

She swiped the screen. A high-definition paparazzi photo filled the display.

The background was the VIP entrance of Mount Sinai Hospital. Emmett was there. He wore his signature custom-tailored suit. His broad shoulders were hunched forward, his arm protectively shielding a woman on a stretcher from the camera flashes.

Daisy zoomed in on the image. Her breath caught in her throat.

It was Eryn Cannon. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and tearful, looking up at Emmett like he was her entire world.

A wave of intense nausea hit Daisy. The room spun.

Her fingers lost their grip. The iPad slipped from her hands and crashed onto the marble countertop.

The sound of shattering glass echoed sharply through the empty penthouse. The screen spiderwebbed into a hundred broken pieces.

Daisy dragged a shaky breath into her lungs. She forced her trembling hands to pick up her phone again. She dialed Kelton, Emmett's executive assistant.

He answered on the fifth ring. "Mrs. Reese?" His voice was tight.

"Is Emmett at the hospital?" Daisy asked. Her voice was completely flat.

Two seconds of dead silence passed through the receiver. It was a fatal pause.

"Mrs. Reese, that article is heavily sensationalized," Kelton replied, his tone remaining perfectly even despite the ambush. "Miss Cannon was admitted for a sudden medical episode, and Mr. Reese merely ensured she arrived safely. He is currently en route back to the office for the cross-border merger meeting."

"Billionaire's Midnight Hospital Vigil: Old Flames Rekindled," Daisy read the headline aloud. Her voice was like ice.

"The media is spinning a narrative, ma'am," Kelton countered smoothly, not missing a beat. "The meeting is about to begin, and he will be occupied."

A hot flush of humiliation burned the back of Daisy's neck. She was his wife, and she was being played for a fool on her birthday.

She ended the call.

She looked at the dining table. The candles had burned down to stubs. The expensive red wine breathed in crystal glasses.

A sudden, violent surge of anger ripped through her. She swept her arm across the table.

The wine glass flew off the edge and shattered against the floor. Dark red liquid bled into the expensive Persian rug like a fresh wound.

Daisy ripped the silk apron from her waist. She threw it onto the ruined table.

She marched to the entryway. She yanked open the drawer and grabbed the keys to her Porsche.

She shoved the heavy oak door open and walked briskly across the marble vestibule, stepping into the private elevator landing. She hit the button for the underground garage.

The elevator dropped. The sudden loss of gravity made her stomach churn. She stared at her own reflection in the mirrored walls. She looked pale, sick, and furious.

The doors slid open. She stepped out, her high heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor.

The valet stepped forward with a polite smile. "Mrs. Reese, do you need-"

Daisy shot him a glare so lethal he instantly stepped back.

She yanked the door of the Porsche open and dropped into the driver's seat. She slammed the door shut, cutting off the sounds of the garage.

She pushed the ignition button. The engine roared to life, vibrating through the steering wheel and into her bones.

Daisy slammed her foot on the gas. The sports car shot up the ramp and tore out into the freezing Manhattan rain.

The rain lashed violently against the windshield. Daisy gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned stark white. Her eyes were locked on the road, the GPS already set for Mount Sinai Hospital.

Daisy slammed on the brakes. The Porsche jerked to a halt in the visitor parking space outside the VIP wing of Mount Sinai Hospital.

She shoved the door open. She didn't grab an umbrella. She stepped directly into the freezing downpour.

The icy rain soaked through her red dress instantly. The wet fabric clung to her skin, making her shiver violently.

She marched to the glass doors of the hospital and pushed them open. The blast of air conditioning hit her wet skin like a wall of ice.

She ignored the nurse at the front desk calling out to her. She walked straight to the private elevator reserved for the top floor.

A security guard stepped in her path, holding up a hand. "Ma'am, this area is restricted."

"I am Emmett Reese's wife," Daisy said. Her voice was a low, dangerous blade.

The guard hesitated, intimidated by the sheer force of her glare. He reached for his shoulder radio. "Please wait here, ma'am. I need to confirm with Mr. Reese's detail-"

Before he could unclip the radio, Daisy pulled her black card from her pocket, bypassed his outstretched arm, and swiped it against the scanner. The light flashed green. The elevator doors opened.

She stepped inside. The doors closed, sealing her in.

She looked at her reflection in the polished metal doors. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks. She reached up and pushed the wet strands back with shaking fingers.

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open to the top floor.

The hallway was dead silent. The thick carpet absorbed the sound of her footsteps. A few private nurses stood near the station, whispering to each other.

Daisy walked forward. Her wet dress dripped onto the floor. Her chest felt tight, like a heavy weight was sitting on her lungs.

At the end of the hall, outside the largest suite, stood two men in dark suits. Emmett's bodyguards.

They saw her. Their faces drained of color. One of them immediately shifted his massive frame to block the small viewing window on the door.

Daisy walked faster. "Move," she ordered. Her voice echoed sharply down the quiet corridor.

The bodyguards exchanged a panicked look. They knew her authority. They didn't dare put their hands on her. They reluctantly took a half-step back.

Daisy stepped up to the door. She leaned close to the glass. The blinds were mostly closed, but a small gap remained.

She looked through the slit.

The room was bathed in soft, warm light. Eryn sat on the edge of the hospital bed, wearing a loose gown. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried.

Emmett stood right beside the bed. His back was to the door. His tall, broad frame dominated the space.

Suddenly, Eryn let out a sob and threw herself forward. She wrapped her arms tightly around Emmett's waist, burying her face in his stomach.

Daisy gasped. Her fingernails dug into the wooden doorframe so hard they ached.

Emmett's body stiffened. Slowly, he raised his hand and placed it on Eryn's arm.

From Daisy's angle, it looked exactly like an embrace. It looked like he was holding her back, comforting her.

A sharp, physical pain ripped through Daisy's chest. It felt like someone had reached into her ribcage and crushed her heart with bare hands. She couldn't breathe.

She stumbled backward. The heel of her shoe hit the wooden baseboard with a loud thud.

Inside the room, Emmett's head snapped toward the door.

Daisy's pride flared hot in her veins. She refused to run away like a pathetic, spying victim.

She took a deep breath. The crushing pain in her chest hardened into pure, freezing anger.

She reached out and wrapped her hand around the cold metal handle of the door. She pushed down hard.

The lock clicked loudly in the silent hallway.

Daisy shoved the heavy door open. She stepped into the warm room, bringing the cold, wet reality of the storm right in with her.

The heavy door hit the wall with a loud bang.

Emmett spun around. His pupils dilated the second his eyes landed on Daisy.

He reacted instantly. He firmly grasped Eryn's arms and quickly detached himself from her embrace, stepping away with cold precision. Eryn stumbled backward.

She fell onto the mattress with a soft cry, tears spilling down her cheeks as she looked at the door.

Emmett took a long stride toward Daisy. "Daisy," he said, his voice tight with panic.

Daisy raised her hand. Her palm faced him, flat and rigid. It was a command to stop.

Emmett's boots halted on the linoleum, just one step away from her. His eyes scanned her soaked red dress, the water dripping from her hair, and the deathly pale color of her skin.

Eryn shrank back against the pillows. "Daisy," she whispered, her voice trembling and weak. "Please don't misunderstand. He was just comforting me."

Daisy didn't even look at Emmett. She stared right through him, locking her eyes on Eryn. A cold, bitter laugh escaped her throat.

"Comforting you?" Daisy said. Her voice was razor-sharp. "Did you not cut deep enough this time, Eryn? Or did you just need an audience for the blood?"

Eryn's face went completely white. She clutched her chest. Her breathing turned rapid and shallow. The heart monitor next to the bed started beeping wildly, the tempo increasing with her panic.

Emmett heard the alarm. His jaw clenched. Instinctively, he shifted his weight and stepped sideways, placing his massive body directly between Daisy and Eryn.

He looked down at Daisy. "Kid, that's enough," he said. His voice was a harsh, commanding rumble. "She can't take this right now."

That single movement-that protective stance-slid into Daisy's chest like a rusted blade.

She stared up at the man she married. He was reprimanding her. He was shielding another woman from her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

Her throat felt tight, filled with broken glass. She bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper. She would not cry in front of them.

She sucked in a breath. Her voice shook with pure rage. "Do you even remember what today is?"

Emmett's eyes flickered. A flash of raw pain crossed his face. His hand twitched toward the pocket of his suit jacket, where a velvet box holding a pink diamond rested against his ribs.

But the monitor behind him was still screaming. "We will talk about this at home," he said, his voice strained.

He reached out to grab her wrist.

Daisy flinched like he had burned her. She slapped his hand away violently.

She took a step back, putting distance between them. The smell of the hospital antiseptic mixed with Eryn's sickeningly sweet perfume clung to his clothes. It made Daisy want to vomit.

Behind Emmett, Eryn let out a weak, pathetic cough.

Daisy looked at the two of them. The fight drained out of her, replaced by a terrifying, hollow clarity. The love she had fought so hard to keep suddenly felt like a joke.

She straightened her spine. She lifted her chin, forcing herself to stand tall despite the freezing wet fabric clinging to her legs.

She looked dead into Emmett's eyes.

"Emmett Reese," she said. Every word was distinct and heavy. "I want a divorce."

The air in the room vanished. The beeping of the monitor seemed to fade into background noise.

Emmett's entire body jerked as if he had been shot. The color drained from his face, leaving his skin ashen. His dark eyes turned lethal.

He closed the distance between them in one step. He towered over her, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Take that back," he snarled, his voice a low, vibrating threat.

Daisy didn't blink. She looked at his furious face, a cold smirk touching the corner of her lips. She turned on her heel and walked toward the open door.