Chapter 5
The violent collision with the coat-and-linen rack had sent shockwaves through the immediate area. During the chaotic struggle, Ava had stumbled backward to avoid the falling wooden frame. As she fell onto her knees, she clutched her old, tattered stuffed rabbit to her chest.
The fragile, worn fabric of the toy snagged on a sharp piece of splintered wood. The stuffed rabbit tore open along its belly, sending cheap white cotton stuffing spilling onto the polished mahogany floor.
Along with the cotton, a small, gleaming object dropped onto the floor with a sharp, metallic clinking sound.
Ryan’s cold, intimidating eyes instantly snapped toward the sound. He took a slow, measured step forward, ignoring Mara entirely, and knelt down in front of the terrified six-year-old girl. His heavily tattooed hand reached out and picked up the small object from the floorboards.
It was a tiny, tarnished silver hospital bracelet.
The cinematic, natural lighting of the hallway caught the engraved letters on the silver surface. Ryan stared at the metal, his sharply defined jawline locking as the muscles in his neck tightened. The tattoos on his skin flexed.
Engraved across the tiny silver band, in unmistakable block letters, read:
AVA CARTER.
Mara, who had been watching from the wall, saw the bracelet in his hand. Her fair, rosy face instantly drained of all color, leaving her looking like a porcelain corpse. The ultimate, undeniable proof of her treason was resting in the palm of her husband's hand.
Driven by absolute, blinding panic, Mara lunged for the bracelet. She threw herself forward, her elegant silk robe billowing behind her, her manicured hands reaching desperately to snatch the silver band away from him.
Ryan intercepted her before she could even cross half the distance.
He stood up with explosive speed, his left hand shooting out to block her extended arm. He batted her hand away effortlessly. Without a fraction of a second's hesitation, Ryan delivered one thunderous, open-handed slap directly across her face.
The sound cracked through the hallway like a gunshot.
The sheer force of the blow lifted Mara off her expensive heels. She spun violently backward, her arms flailing as she lost all equilibrium. She crashed back-first into the heavy utility shelving lining the wall.
May you like
The metal shelves rattled wildly under her impact. Ceramic storage jars were knocked loose, shattering against the floor and mixing with the broken sandwich plate. Neatly folded linens scattered down around her like a shroud. Mara collapsed to the floor amidst the debris, gasping for air, clutching her rapidly bruising cheek as she stared up at her husband in pure, unadulterated terror.
No dialogue was spoken. The silence that followed was heavier and more oppressive than before. Ryan stood towering over her, his dark trousers and crisp white shirt immaculate despite the violence. The romantic, charming look of the loose strands falling over his forehead now framed the face of an absolutely ruthless executioner. He had uncovered a ghost in his own house.
