Chapter 2
860words
On the drive home, silence hung like a shroud. Alex's fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel.
Sophia forced a smile from the back seat. "I'm fine, really. As long as Emma is okay."
"I'm fine," I replied flatly, staring out the window.
At home, Sophia declined to come inside with a perfectly crafted look of disappointment. "I should get back to the guests. The party was... interrupted, after all."
After she left, Alex finally erupted. "What the hell were you thinking? Making up a kidnapping story? Do you realize how serious that is?"
I met his gaze calmly. "I didn't make up anything."
"Enough!" He shouted. "Even the police don't believe you! Are you going to keep pushing this ridiculous lie?"
Without a word, I walked into the bathroom and locked the door. I needed to wash away the lingering sensation of captivity.
Hot water cascaded over my skin, but couldn't thaw the ice in my heart. I stared at the faint red marks on my wrists—evidence of my restraints, but too subtle to be convincing.
The next morning, Alex's demeanor shifted unexpectedly. He entered the bedroom with coffee, perching carefully on the edge of the bed.
"I was harsh last night," he said softly. "Whatever happened, I should have listened to you first."
I looked up, a flicker of hope igniting. "You believe me?"
He raised his hand to stroke my hair, his voice dropping to a patronizing murmur. "You've been working too hard lately..."
The hope shattered. He didn't believe me—he thought I was having a breakdown.
That evening, Alex arrived with a bouquet of lilies. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he said. "I should have been more understanding."
I didn't take the flowers. "I don't like lilies."
Lilies—Sophia's favorite flowers.
Alex smiled tightly. "Still upset? I thought you always liked them."
"That's what you like. And your sister too."
His expression darkened as he tossed the flowers into the trash. Alex never had a good temper—when he got angry at work, the entire company walked on eggshells.
He took a deep breath, his face momentarily thunderous before he forced another smile.
"Fine. Tell me what you like, and I'll buy that instead."
"I don't want anything from you." I met his gaze coldly.
Alex seemed almost amused by his own anger. "You're still upset over such trivial matters?"
That was our fundamental problem. In his eyes, my feelings were always "trivial," my concerns just me being "emotional."
"I'm just stating a fact," I said evenly.
He suddenly bent down and kissed me, ignoring my resistance.
He gripped my wrists tightly, wedging his leg between my thighs.
The kiss deepened as his hands roamed hungrily. I knew what was coming—our usual method of "conflict resolution."
Whenever we argued, he would pin me to the bed and take me roughly.
After waves of forced pleasure, he'd whisper in my ear: "Will you challenge me again?"
Only when I was broken and begging would he relent.
He'd replaced communication with physical dominance, and I'd mistaken it for passion.
I remember our first fight, three months into dating. He'd forgotten our anniversary and dismissed my disappointment as "sensitivity." When the argument escalated, he silenced me with kisses and pushed me down onto the sofa.
After that, the pattern was set. Whenever I voiced displeasure, he used sex to make me "forget." And I—once the girl who boldly pursued him—always surrendered.
He pinned me against the wall, his mouth hot on my neck, my ears, his hands roughly kneading my breasts.
Unwanted pleasure coursed through me, but I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound.
His phone rang suddenly, breaking the moment.
Alex glanced at the screen and released me. "Grandma."
He answered, concern instantly appearing on his face. After hanging up, he grabbed his coat. "Grandma's having heart trouble. I need to check on her."
I stood frozen, the echo of Sophia's laughter from the phone call ringing in my ears.
This wasn't the first time she'd used his grandmother as bait to lure Alex away.
Before, I would nod understandingly and wait at home like a good wife.
I'd tell myself that family comes first, that I should be understanding.
But today, after kidnapping, suspicion, and betrayal, I was done playing the understanding wife.
Grandmother had always wanted Alex to marry Sophia. As the Reed family's adopted daughter, Sophia had been groomed as the perfect future wife since childhood.
Alex never knew that during my visits, Grandmother would "casually" mention how perfect Sophia was for him. When Alex was present, she'd treat me with false kindness.
I knew Grandmother frequently used her "poor health" to summon Alex, and Sophia was always "coincidentally" present.
Alex might genuinely see Sophia as a sister, but she and Grandmother clearly had other plans.
To avoid confrontation, I'd made excuses to avoid the Reed family home.
But this time, as Alex headed for the door, I stopped him—
"I'll come with you," I said firmly.
Alex turned, eyebrow raised in surprise. "Changed your mind?"
"Yes," I grabbed my coat. "I'm concerned about Grandma's health too."
Alex nodded. "Let's go."
