Kaya stepped out of the study. Her feet sank into the thick, plush carpet of the second-floor hallway.

She walked toward the grand sweeping staircase. Her hand gripped the mahogany railing, her knuckles white. She descended the stairs and moved straight toward the open-concept kitchen on the first floor.

She needed water. Her throat felt like it was coated in ash.

Kaya walked up to the massive marble island. She grabbed a glass, filled it from the chilled dispenser, and drank it in three large gulps. The freezing water hit her empty stomach, making her shiver.

"Mrs. Maddox?"

Kaya turned. Helen Mercer, the estate's head maid, stood by the massive industrial stove. She was stirring a large stainless-steel pot. A thick, pungent herbal smell filled the air.

Before Kaya could answer, the rhythmic tapping of a wooden cane echoed against the tile floor.

Eleanor Maddox, the matriarch of the family, walked into the kitchen. Her sharp eyes locked onto Kaya.

Eleanor walked up to the island and patted Kaya's hand. Her skin felt like dry parchment.

"Smell that, Kaya?" Eleanor pointed her cane at the stove. "That is a premium organic fertility blend. I had it flown in from a private specialist in Los Angeles this morning."

Kaya stared at the bubbling brown liquid. She thought about Grady's voice in the study. I haven't laid a single finger on Kaya in two years.

A bitter, hysterical laugh clawed at her throat. She forced it down. She pulled the corners of her mouth up into a flawless, practiced smile.

"Thank you, Grandmother," Kaya said. Her voice was perfectly steady. "You are too kind to me."

"Nonsense. I want a great-grandson." Eleanor waved her hand. "Helen, pour her a bowl."

Helen turned off the burner. She ladled the boiling hot liquid into a delicate bone china bowl. She carried it over to the marble island, setting it down carefully. Steam rolled off the surface.

Kaya reached out her right hand to take the bowl.

The heavy kitchen doors violently swung open.

Jasmine practically skipped into the room. Her eyes were slightly red, her lips swollen. She looked like a girl who had just been thoroughly kissed.

Grady walked in right behind her. His eyes were glued to the back of Jasmine's head.

Jasmine marched straight toward the island. She didn't slow down. She brushed aggressively past Kaya.

Jasmine's elbow slammed hard into the side of the bone china bowl.

The bowl tipped.

The boiling brown liquid splashed directly over Kaya's right hand and wrist.

Kaya gasped. A sharp, searing agony ripped through her skin. She flinched back, her injured hand flying up to her chest in a desperate, defensive gesture, and a few stray drops of the boiling liquid splashed directly onto her exposed collarbone. The skin on the back of her hand instantly turned a violent, angry red.

The china bowl hit the floor and shattered into dozens of sharp pieces. The sound cracked through the kitchen like a gunshot.

"Ah!" Jasmine screamed. She jumped back, clutching the hem of her designer skirt as if she were on fire.

Grady lunged forward. He grabbed Jasmine by the shoulders and pulled her flush against his chest. His hands moved frantically over her arms and legs.

"Are you hurt?" Grady's voice was tight with panic. "Did the glass cut you, Yue?"

He didn't even look at Kaya. He didn't look at the blistering skin on her hand.

Eleanor slammed her cane against the floor. "Jasmine! You clumsy girl! You ruined the supplement!"

Jasmine buried her face in Grady's chest. Her shoulders shook with fake sobs. "I didn't mean to! Kaya didn't hold the bowl steady! She dropped it on purpose to scare me!"

Grady turned his head. He glared at Kaya. His jaw clenched tight. "Why weren't you paying attention, Kaya? Look at the mess you've made! You scared her."

Kaya looked down at her right hand. Small, watery blisters were already forming along her knuckles. The pain was a constant, throbbing burn.

She looked up at her husband. He was holding the woman he had just been inside of, yelling at his wife for bleeding on the floor.

Kaya didn't cry. She didn't defend herself. She simply took her burning right hand and hid it behind her back.

She looked Grady dead in the eyes. Her face was a blank, emotionless mask.

"I apologize," Kaya said. Her voice was flat. Empty.

Grady froze. He stared at her face. Something cold and unsettling twisted in his gut. Kaya always cried when he yelled at her. She always tried to explain. This absolute stillness felt wrong.

Eleanor stepped forward and grabbed Kaya's left arm, pulling her forward. The old woman looked behind Kaya's back and gasped.

"Good heavens, her hand is severely burned! Helen, get the first aid kit immediately!"

Kaya gently pulled her arm out of Eleanor's grip. She offered the old woman a soft, reassuring smile.

"It's fine, Grandmother. Please don't make a fuss. I just need to run it under some cold water."

Kaya turned her back on Grady and Jasmine. She walked to the stainless-steel sink and turned on the faucet. She thrust her blistering hand under the freezing stream of water.

She stared at the water swirling down the drain. The pain in her hand was nothing compared to the absolute clarity in her mind. She was done.

Kaya turned off the faucet. She grabbed a paper towel, gently patted her wet hand dry, and walked out of the kitchen.

She climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to the master bedroom. Her bedroom.

She pushed the door open and walked straight into the massive walk-in closet. She pulled open the bottom drawer of the built-in dresser and dragged out a white first-aid kit.

Kaya sat down on the velvet stool in front of her vanity mirror. She opened the kit, took out a tube of burn ointment, and squeezed a thick layer onto a cotton swab.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes hollow. She dragged the cotton swab across the angry red blisters on her hand.

Sharp, biting pain shot up her arm, the raw nerve endings screaming in protest as the cold gel touched the ruined skin. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead, and her stomach rolled with the intense, throbbing ache. She didn't flinch. Her facial muscles didn't move.

After applying the ointment and wrapping a light gauze around her wrist, Kaya opened the top drawer of the vanity.

Inside sat velvet boxes filled with diamonds, sapphires, and pearls. Every piece was a gift from Grady. Apology gifts for missing dinners. Anniversary gifts meant to maintain the illusion of their perfect marriage.

An hour ago, she cherished them. Now, they looked like chains.

Kaya pulled a large black velvet drawstring bag from the back of the drawer. She opened the jewelry boxes one by one, dumping the heavy necklaces and rings into the bag. Her movements were fast, mechanical, and precise.

The brass doorknob of the bedroom clicked.

Grady walked in. He didn't knock. He never knocked.

Kaya shoved the heavy velvet bag to the very back of the drawer and slammed it shut. She grabbed a wooden hairbrush from the counter and began pulling it through her long, dark hair.

Grady walked up behind her. He stopped a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets. He looked at her reflection in the mirror. His brow furrowed.

He expected her to be crying. He had his speech ready.

"Listen," Grady sighed, his voice taking on that patronizing tone he always used. "Jasmine has always been clumsy. You know how sensitive she is. As her sister-in-law, you need to be more accommodating."

Kaya stopped brushing. She set the wooden brush down on the marble counter.

She stood up and turned around to face him. She looked straight into his dark eyes.

The corners of her mouth lifted into a flawless, beautiful smile.

"It's perfectly fine, Grady," Kaya said, her voice soft and sweet. "Why would I ever hold a grudge against her?"

Grady's mouth opened, but no sound came out. The rest of his lecture died in his throat.

Her smile was too perfect. Her voice lacked any trace of the usual underlying sadness or desperation. It was a terrifyingly empty compliance.

A sudden, sharp spike of genuine irritation flared in his chest. This wasn't her usual timid retreat; this was a blatant dismissal that grated against his ego. His eyes dropped to her right hand. The white gauze wrapped around her wrist stood out against her pale skin. A sudden, irritating itch of guilt flared in his chest.

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and reached toward her. "Let me see the burn."

Kaya took a smooth, natural step to the left. She moved just out of his reach.

"I need to change for the family dinner," Kaya said, her tone light and conversational. She turned and walked back toward the closet doors.

Grady's hand hung suspended in the empty air. His fingers twitched. The unsettling feeling in his gut tightened into a hard knot. She had never avoided his touch before.

Before he could step forward, a small head poked through the half-open bedroom door.

"Grady?" Jasmine's voice was tiny, trembling. "I'm scared Grandmother is going to yell at me again. Can you stay with me until dinner?"

Grady looked at the closed closet door. He looked back at Jasmine. The habit of protecting his sister overrode the strange panic in his chest.

"I'm coming," Grady said. He turned and walked out of the room.

Inside the closet, Kaya leaned her back against the heavy wooden door. She listened to their footsteps fading down the hallway.

She let out a long, shaky breath.

Kaya reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She opened the browser and typed: Top divorce attorneys Manhattan.

She scrolled past the sponsored ads. Her eyes landed on a name: Genevieve Atherton. Known as the Iron Lady of divorces.

Kaya took a screenshot of the contact information and moved the photo into a locked, hidden folder on her phone.

She walked over to her hanging clothes. She bypassed the dresses Grady liked and pulled out a high-necked, long-sleeved silk blouse in a deep emerald green.

She slipped the blouse on, buttoning it all the way up to her throat. It covered her collarbones perfectly, but the white gauze on her hand was still visible.

Kaya checked her reflection one last time. No tears. No weakness.

She opened the closet door and walked out into the hallway.

Agnes Novak, a young maid, was dusting the hallway table. She saw Kaya and immediately looked at her wrapped hand. "Oh, Mrs. Maddox. Does it hurt terribly?"

Kaya smiled gently. "It's just a scratch, Agnes. Don't worry."

She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and walked toward the stairs to face the dinner table.

Kaya walked into the formal dining room. The massive crystal chandelier cast a warm, golden glow over the long oak table, which was already set with heavy silver cutlery and crystal wine glasses.

Eleanor sat at the head of the table. Imelda Maddox, Grady's mother, sat to Eleanor's right, casually flipping through a glossy fashion magazine.

Kaya walked to her designated seat on the left side of the table. She sat down, keeping her back perfectly straight, her hands resting elegantly in her lap.

A minute later, Grady and Jasmine walked into the room. They were laughing. Jasmine was clinging to his bicep, whispering something in his ear.

Grady pulled out the chair next to Kaya and sat down. A wave of his expensive cedarwood cologne washed over her. Kaya didn't turn her head.

The maids entered silently, placing the first course of seared scallops in front of everyone.

Kaya picked up her fork, her bandaged hand throbbing painfully under the table. Every pulse of her heartbeat sent a fresh, sharp wave of fire across her knuckles, a constant, physical reminder of the morning's humiliation. She kept her eyes glued to her plate, chewing slowly, making herself as invisible as possible.

Suddenly, Imelda dropped her magazine onto the table. Her sharp, manicured finger pointed across the table.

"Well," Imelda drawled, a smirk playing on her lips. "Look at that."

Kaya paused. She looked up. Imelda's eyes were locked directly on Kaya's neck.

When Kaya had tilted her head down to eat, the collar of her silk blouse had shifted open just a fraction. It exposed the hollow of her collarbone. Right above the bone was a small, bright red mark.

It was a splash burn from the hot soup earlier, but against her pale skin, it looked exactly like a fresh hickey.

"Grady," Imelda chuckled, taking a sip of her wine. "You need to learn some restraint. You can't leave marks on your wife where the elders can see them. It lacks decorum."

The clinking of silverware stopped. The air in the dining room instantly thickened.

Everyone's eyes snapped to Kaya's neck.

Grady froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. He stared at the red mark on Kaya's skin. His brow furrowed in deep confusion.

He hadn't touched her. He hadn't kissed her neck. Where the hell did that come from?

Across the table, Jasmine's face drained of all color. Her eyes widened in horror, staring at the red mark as if it were a venomous snake. Her hands gripped the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white.

Kaya looked at Imelda. She felt Grady's confused stare burning into the side of her face. She saw Jasmine vibrating with pure, unadulterated jealousy.

Kaya didn't reach up to cover the mark. She didn't open her mouth to explain that it was a burn.

Instead, she slowly lowered her eyelashes. She bit her inner cheek to force a faint blush to her cheeks. She let a small, shy smile touch her lips, and she looked down at her lap.

It was the perfect picture of a bashful, loved wife.

Eleanor slapped the table in delight. "Oh, leave them alone, Imelda! They are young and healthy. At this rate, I'll be holding my great-grandson by next Christmas!" The old woman's laughter echoed off the high ceiling.

Jasmine let out a sharp, ragged breath.

She suddenly shoved her porcelain plate forward. The ceramic scraped loudly against the wood.

"This steak is too tough!" Jasmine whined loudly, her voice shrill. "I can't chew it. I want Boston lobster."

It was a ridiculous demand. The main course hadn't even been served yet, and the kitchen hadn't prepared lobster.

But Grady immediately snapped out of his daze. He looked at Jasmine's pale, furious face.

"Helen!" Grady called out, waving his hand. "Tell the chef to steam some fresh lobster immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Maddox," the maid scurried away.

Grady reached across the table and grabbed the platter of snow crab legs. He picked up a silver cracking tool. Right there, in front of his wife and his family, he began meticulously cracking the crab shells.

He pulled the sweet white meat out, carefully removing the soft cartilage, and placed the pieces directly onto Jasmine's plate.

"Eat this for now," Grady said softly, his eyes full of endless patience.

Imelda and Eleanor didn't blink. To them, it was just a brother spoiling his adopted sister.

Kaya watched him peel the crab. She felt absolutely nothing. The anger was gone. The sadness was gone. There was only a cold, clinical observation of a man she no longer knew.

Kaya swallowed the last bite of her scallop. She picked up her linen napkin and elegantly dabbed the corners of her mouth.

She placed the napkin on the table and stood up. "Excuse me. I am full."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out of the dining room.