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He doesn't say a word to me, just turns on his heel and walks away.
The next few hours I stay in the living room, hoping he'll come down and join me. He doesn't. Our usual evening routine of sitting together on the sofa is over. He will never trust me again.
I know I should eat, but my stomach churns every time I think about food. I curl up on the sofa, not sure that I will be welcome in his bed tonight. When he doesn't come to find me, I have my answer. I'm not someone who cries, but I feel the tears choking the back of my throat as I lie curled in a ball around the cushion.
I must eventually drift off, exhaustion pushing me to the brink, because when I wake, it’s morning. My back feels full of knots, my neck too. I wrap a blanket around my shoulders and head out to the garage to see if he is still here. When I step inside the triple door garage, I see the Audi has gone. It’s his favourite choice of car and the one he uses daily, or has done since we were married.
The fact he left without saying goodbye, or even coming to check on me, makes my heart sink. I make my way back into the house, feeling nauseous. How do I fix this? How do I prove to Kane that I am loyal to him?
These are waters I have never had to navigate before. I expected us to fight as a couple, but this is more than that.
I make my way back to the living room and sink onto the sofa. I glance at my phone on the arm of the chair before I pick it up and dial Kane's number. It rings before cutting off. So I dial again. It does the same thing, so I hit redial. This time, it connects.
“I'm busy,” his barbed words sound on the phone.
“And I'm sorry. I know I deserve the silent treatment, and I don't know how I can ever make things up to you, but somehow, I will Kane. You're my husband and my loyalty is to you. I will renounce my father if it helps. Will do whatever I need to prove to you that I am yours and yours alone.”
“I don't trust you.”
I dip my head, letting my hair fall over my face, and close my eyes. “I don't like fighting with you.”
“Then you shouldn't have tried to sell me down the river.”
“That is not what I have done, and you know it. I fucked up. I listened to my father, and I shouldn't have. Don't punish me forever, Kane.” I give myself a moment to collect myself, letting the silence filter down the phone line. It’s awkward, and nothing like it had been. “I'm sorry, and I will say I’m sorry every day until you hear it.”
“I know you are sorry, but I need time and space. Give me it.”
It tears me apart to agree to it, but if that is what he needs right now, then I will give it to him. “Okay. I’ll make us dinner tonight. You don't have to talk or say anything, but at least eat with me. I miss our evening routine.”
“I have to go. Goodbye, Elena.”
The call cuts off, leaving me holding the handset to my ear as I'm greeted by one steady tone. I let out a shaky breath and hang up, setting my phone on the side. For the rest of the day, I stay on the couch watching crap TV while trying to come up with an idea of how to make things better. I don't know if there is a way I can fix this, whether in time he can forgive me and come to trust me again, but I have to try.
An hour before he usually comes home, I start to make dinner. Something fancy so we can talk while we eat. Though my stomach is still in knots, so I'm not sure how much I will be able to choke down.
My phone rings on the counter where I've left it, and I glance at the screen, half expecting it to be Kane. But it’s my sister's name that pops up. I want to block out the world and not speak to anyone, but Letta might need me.
As soon as the call connects, I realise something is very wrong. She is crying, ugly sobs, and begging. I can hear Michael in the background, yelling and breaking things. My heart starts to pound. If he has hurt her, I will destroy him.
“Let, can you get somewhere safe?”
“Don't come here, Leelee. No matter what you hear, don't—”
The line goes dead. Fear clutches at me, its claws digging in to my skin. I'm going to kill him. I told him. I warned him what would happen if he did this again.
I turn the stove off and the oven before rushing upstairs to my bedroom. I try to block out Kane's little touches around the room as I go to the closet and the bottom shelf on my side where I keep my knives. I pull out my favourite, a switchblade that is retracted and can be opened with the flick of a button. I tuck it in my back pocket before grabbing another and shoving it down my boot. Getting out of the house is not going to be easy. There are guards on the gate and men milling around, though not in the main house. Ford is the only one who ever spends time in the main house, and he is out with Kane. There is still a threat to my life, one that I take seriously, so I dial my husband's number. The phone rings and rings and rings. I hang up and try again, but there is no answer. Time is ticking away, and my sister needs my help before her stupid husband kills her.
I go to the hallway and the drawer where I know the car keys are kept. I pull out the first set I find and head out to the garage. I push the button for the alarm and the one on the end lights up. It’s a Range Rover, probably the biggest car I have ever driven. I'm a little nervous as I get into the driver’s seat and adjust everything. I know this is crazy to go on my own, but what choice is there? I try my brother too, as I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, but he doesn't pick up either. Out of options and out of people to help me, I push the button for the garage door to open and start the vehicle up.
I've never tried to get out of the estate before, so I have no idea how easy it will be. As I approach the gates, I expect men to come out from the small stone building at the side of it, but nobody does. I have no idea how to open the gates, but as I drive closer, they open of their own volition, swinging back with a loud shriek of metal.
And then I'm off, out into the world. Nerves tingle through me as I make the drive through the small village back towards London. Luckily, the traffic isn't too bad, so I make it there quickly.
I park outside my sister's house and cut the engine. Her property is gorgeous. Three-storeys with steps down to the basement and black wrought iron railings enclosing it in. The brickwork is white. The window sash from the outside doesn't look like something that could hide such terrors behind its walls.
I move up the steps to the front door and try to open it. To my surprise, it’s unlocked. The door swings open. I step into the hallway, my heart in my throat as I'm greeted with silence. That scares me more than if I'd heard shouting. I grab my switch knife from my back pocket and flick it open. I don't care if Michael is the son of the mayor, I'm going to kill him for laying another finger on my sister.
I walk slowly up the hallway, starting to feel a little panicked. If she is quiet, what the hell has Michael done to her?
