His Unwanted Mute Wife's Daring Escape

zed bed, the muscles in his back pul

look bac

on

behind him. The sound of the shower turning on was a wall of wa

et up, covering the red marks

wer lip, swallowing the sound until her throat ached with the effort. A sharp, spasming p

ghtstand. The digital

stopped. The lock clicke

cold and sterile, filled the space between them. He walked past the bed to

ern on the duvet. His gaze felt like a

his eyes, only the detached assessment of a man looking at a possession. Her fi

te tomorrow," he said, his voice a low rumble t

lew across the screen, the pale blue light illuminatin

screen up f

ere with L

harp sound, something between a scoff and a laugh,

the bedroom door, his steps h

light of the hallway. An invisible hand seemed to close

ootsteps faded down th

en did

ody. Her bare feet met the cold plush of the carpet. She walked into the ba

oulders and collarbone stood out, angry and red. She scrubbed at them with a sponge, a mec

arkness in his eyes when he pressed down on her, unsure whether it was desire or something else. She had seen the s

e turned off the tap and wrap

k-in closet. She ignored the row of nameplate dresses and shoes he had bought

nd a row of winter clothes, t

of her robe. She steadily inserted

slid open

lack velvet cushion, was onl

ge certificate, torn into hundreds of pi

ouching the edge of one piece-it had the words "Julian Carlyle IV" and "Ava Davis" pr

he corridor-the floorboards creaked

nly raise

the key. In the empty, silent apartment, only the click of the lock

sounds in the hallway completely disappeared. She knew she would be dis