Chapter 3 - The Cold Marble
The luxury car pulled through the heavy iron gates of their secluded, sprawling lakefront property. The massive estate sat behind a hundred feet of landscaped buffer, meaning whatever happened inside its stone walls happened completely invisibly.
Clare walked into the grand marble foyer, dropping her clutch onto the entryway table.
"I want the truth about Vanessa," Clare demanded, her voice losing its evenness as the adrenaline finally crashed through her veins. "Tell me you didn't bring her into this house."
"Enough," Adrien warned. His voice had changed. It wasn't louder, but something human had been entirely stripped out of it.
Clare cornered him against the massive kitchen island, cutting off his exit. Adrien did not respond well to being cornered. He was a man who required absolute, terrifying control over his environment.
"I've been ready to file since August," Clare cried out, tears of profound betrayal finally spilling over. "I was waiting for you to tell me yourself, because God help me, I still wanted you to look me in the face and—"
She never finished the sentence.
Adrien moved around the marble island with blinding, terrifying speed. His right hand connected with the side of her face. It wasn't a slap. His fist was tightly closed.
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The brutal impact snapped Clare’s head sideways. Her hip violently struck the sharp edge of the granite counter, and she collapsed heavily onto the cold marble floor. A blinding white light flashed across her vision. She lay paralyzed, staring at the underside of the cabinets, listening to Adrien’s fast, irregular breathing.
👉 Clare's vision faded into absolute darkness, entirely unaware that she wouldn't wake up for another three weeks.
