The black Maybach rolled smoothly up the long, circular driveway of Red Leaf Manor. The tires crunched softly against the gravel before coming to a stop under the massive stone portico.

Aydin put the car in park. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out into the cool night air. He walked around the hood and pulled open the passenger door. The heavy scent of whiskey and Bianca's floral perfume spilled out into the night.

He leaned in. "We're here, Bianca." He reached across her and pressed the red button to release her seatbelt.

Bianca let out a soft groan. Her body was completely limp. She tilted sideways, practically falling out of the seat. Aydin caught her instantly. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, pulling her against his side to keep her upright.

Her head lolled onto his shoulder. Her eyes were half-closed, her breathing shallow. Aydin looked down at her, adjusting his grip to make sure she wouldn't slip.

"What a touching scene."

The voice sliced through the quiet night like a physical blade.

Aydin froze. Bianca's body jerked against him. She forced her heavy eyelids open.

Kahlil stepped out from the deep shadows of the front pillars. The dim porch light hit his face. His jaw was locked so tight the muscles jumped beneath his skin. His eyes were pure, terrifying black.

Aydin's grip on Bianca's waist tightened slightly. He offered a calm, flat smile. "Mr. Montgomery. Your wife had a bit too much. I was just ensuring she got home safely."

Kahlil walked forward. Each step was slow, deliberate, and heavy. His eyes never left Aydin's hand resting on Bianca's hip. His chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths.

"Safely?" Kahlil's voice was a low, dangerous growl. He reached up and violently yanked at his tie, loosening it. "You call this safe? Your hands all over her? In the middle of the night?"

The sheer force of Kahlil's rage sent a shock of adrenaline through Bianca's veins. The alcohol fog cleared just enough for panic to set in. She tried to push herself away from Aydin, her legs trembling. "Kahlil... it's not..."

Kahlil's head snapped toward her. "Shut up! Don't say a word!"

His roar echoed off the stone walls. Bianca flinched, her teeth biting down hard on her lower lip. Her stomach plummeted.

Kahlil turned his lethal glare back to Aydin. A cruel, ugly sneer twisted his lips. "Aydin Lee. The club owner. So, this is how you conduct business? By servicing your clients... personally?"

Aydin's calm facade cracked. His eyes hardened into ice. "I'd watch your tone, Montgomery. I was doing you a favor."

"Favor?" Kahlil let out a harsh, barking laugh. He stepped entirely into Aydin's personal space. "I don't need favors from men who look at my wife like she's their next meal."

Bianca's breath caught in her throat. The humiliation burned her skin like acid. Her hands shook. She wanted to scream, but her throat was completely paralyzed.

Aydin held Bianca steady. He looked Kahlil dead in the eye. "You're drunk on jealousy, not alcohol. And you're hurting her."

The word jealousy acted like a match to gasoline. Kahlil's vision went red. He lunged forward. He slapped Aydin's arm away with brutal force and grabbed Bianca's wrist.

He yanked her forward. Bianca stumbled, her high heels twisting on the pavement. She crashed hard into Kahlil's solid chest. The impact knocked the wind out of her. She smelled the sharp scent of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of his anger.

Kahlil's arm clamped around her waist like a steel vice. His fingers dug painfully into her ribs. He didn't care. He glared at Aydin. "Leave. Now. Before I do something we both regret."

Aydin looked at Bianca's pale, terrified face. He looked back at Kahlil, his expression filled with absolute disgust. "Take care of her, Montgomery. Or someone else will."

Aydin turned, got into his car, and slammed the door. The engine roared, and the Maybach sped down the driveway, disappearing into the dark.

Kahlil didn't wait a single second. He spun around, dragging Bianca toward the massive front doors. His grip on her wrist was bone-crushing.

Bianca stumbled up the steps, her feet barely keeping up with his furious strides. "Kahlil, listen to me! I just drank too much, he..."

Kahlil stopped so abruptly Bianca slammed into his back. He spun around. He grabbed her upper arms, his fingers biting into her flesh. He leaned down, his face inches from hers.

"He what? Touched you? Held you? Made you smile while you were supposed to be here, in my house?"

Bianca stared up at him. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. The raw, desperate possessiveness in his eyes terrified her. It wasn't just anger. It was agony.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The cold night air whipped around them, but the ice in Kahlil's eyes was colder.

Kahlil dragged Bianca through the front doors. He didn't stop in the foyer. He pulled her into the center of the brightly lit living room and shoved her forward.

Bianca lost her balance. She fell hard onto the leather sofa. Her spine cracked against the stiff cushions. A sharp jolt of pain shot up her back, clearing the last remnants of the whiskey from her brain. Her blood ran cold, quickly replaced by a boiling, violent humiliation.

Kahlil stood towering over her. His chest heaved. His hands were curled into tight fists at his sides.

"Explain." He spat the word out.

Bianca pushed her hands against the leather cushions and forced herself to sit up. She rubbed her throbbing wrist. Her eyes met his, completely devoid of fear now. Only ice remained.

"Explain what?" she snapped. "That I went out for a drink? That I got drunk? That a friend drove me home?"

Kahlil let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-snarl. "Friend? A friend who holds you like a lover? Who looks at you with hunger? Who whispers in your ear while you lean on him like a wanton?"

Bianca's stomach lurched. She jumped to her feet. The sudden movement made her dizzy, and she swayed, grabbing the edge of the heavy glass coffee table to keep from falling. Her face was chalk-white.

"Don't you dare!" she yelled, her voice tearing through her throat. "Aydin was just being a decent human being, unlike you!"

"Decent?" Kahlil closed the distance between them in one stride. He pointed a shaking finger inches from her face. "Decent men don't touch married women! They don't offer 'personal rides' at midnight!"

Bianca backed away from his aggressive energy until her shoulder blades hit the cold, hard plaster of the wall. She was trapped.

A sharp cramp twisted her stomach. The alcohol and the adrenaline were warring inside her body, making her nauseous. She swallowed hard, refusing to break eye contact.

"You're sick, Kahlil," she whispered, her voice trembling with rage. "Sick with jealousy and paranoia. You hate me, remember? So why do you care who I'm with?"

The words hit Kahlil like a physical blow. The muscles in his jaw locked. A dark, ugly red crept up his neck.

"I don't care!" he roared. The sound vibrated the crystal glasses on the bar cart. "I care about my dignity! My property! You are my wife in name, and you will not make a fool of me!"

The word property echoed in the silent room.

Bianca stopped breathing. A hot tear spilled over her lower lash line, tracking quickly down her cheek. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her shoulders shook.

"Property," she repeated. Her voice was hollow, stripped of all fight. "That's all I am to you. A piece of property. A means to an end."

Kahlil saw the tear. His hands twitched. A flash of intense, suffocating panic crossed his eyes, but he instantly buried it under a fresh layer of cruelty.

"Stop playing the victim!" he barked. "You brought this on yourself! Running away, drinking, whoring around-"

Smack.

The sharp, explosive sound of flesh hitting flesh stopped his words instantly.

Bianca's right hand hung in the air, stinging and trembling violently.

Kahlil's head was turned sharply to the left. A bright red handprint bloomed across his cheekbone. He stood completely frozen. He slowly turned his head back to look at her. The shock in his eyes was absolute.

Bianca didn't lower her hand. Her chest heaved. "Don't you ever... ever call me that again."

Her voice was low, vibrating with a deadly calm. "I have never been unfaithful to you. Not with Aydin, not with anyone. The only thing I'm guilty of is being trapped in this farce of a marriage with a man who despises me!"

Kahlil stared at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He opened his mouth, but his throat worked soundlessly. He let out a low, frustrated growl, spun on his heel, and marched toward the grand staircase.

"Where are you going?" Bianca called after him, her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. "To call your lawyer? To start the divorce papers you've been dreaming of?"

Kahlil stopped at the bottom step. He didn't turn around. His shoulders were rigid. "Divorce? You think it's that easy? You're not going anywhere until I say so."

He looked over his shoulder. His eyes were black voids. "And you will stay away from Aydin Lee. I won't warn you again."

He took the stairs two at a time. The heavy thud of his footsteps faded down the second-floor hallway. A door slammed shut.

Bianca stood alone in the massive living room. The adrenaline crashed.

A blinding, agonizing pain ripped through her stomach. She gasped, her hands flying to her abdomen. Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the hardwood floor, curling into a tight ball. The cold sweat poured down her back. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to even scream as the agony tore her apart.

Bianca lay on the cold hardwood floor. Her knees were pulled tight to her chest. Her stomach muscles contracted in violent, agonizing spasms. Every breath she took felt like inhaling broken glass. Cold sweat plastered her hair to her forehead.

"Madam!"

Mrs. Gable rushed into the living room, her slippers slapping frantically against the floor. She dropped to her knees beside Bianca, her hands hovering, terrified to touch her. "Madam, let me help you to your room. I'll call the doctor..."

Bianca squeezed her eyes shut. She shook her head, a weak, jerky movement. "No doctor," she gasped, her voice barely a raspy whisper. "Just help me up." She refused to let Kahlil see her broken on the floor. She refused to give him that satisfaction.

Before Mrs. Gable could slide her arms under Bianca's shoulders, the soft, rhythmic squeak of rubber wheels echoed from the hallway.

Cassandra rolled into the living room. Her face was a mask of exaggerated horror.

"Oh my! What happened? Sister Bianca?" Cassandra's voice pitched high with fake concern. Her eyes, however, darted over Bianca's trembling, curled-up body, gleaming with a sick, triumphant satisfaction.

Bianca forced her heavy eyelids open. The sight of Cassandra sitting comfortably in that wheelchair made the bile rise in her throat. She tried to speak, but another cramp hit her, forcing a sharp hiss through her teeth.

Cassandra rolled closer. She looked down at Bianca's pale, sweaty face. "You look terrible. Did you... drink too much? I heard voices..."

Cassandra paused. She touched her collarbone, feigning hesitation. "Oh. Was it about... Mr. Lee? I saw the photos..."

Bianca's breath stopped. Photos?

Cassandra pulled her phone from her lap. She tapped the screen and held it down so Bianca could see.

It was a picture of Aydin helping Bianca out of the car. The angle was perfectly manipulative. The shadows hid Aydin's hands unbuckling the seatbelt, making it look like Bianca was passionately throwing herself into his arms, their faces inches apart.

"I was so worried when I saw this," Cassandra whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought... I thought maybe you and Kahlil..."

Bianca stared at the glowing screen. Her vision blurred, but the image burned into her brain. Cassandra took this? Or Preston? It didn't matter. The trap was perfectly laid.

The physical pain in her stomach was suddenly eclipsed by a blinding, white-hot rage. She pushed Mrs. Gable away and forced herself up onto her knees, her hands shaking violently.

"You..." Bianca choked out, her eyes locking onto Cassandra's. "You took this? You sent it to Kahlil?"

Cassandra's eyes widened in mock panic. She pulled the phone back to her chest. "What? No! I... I just saw it on social media. Someone must have... I was trying to warn you!"

"You're lying." Bianca grabbed the edge of the coffee table, pulling herself up until she was standing, though she swayed dangerously. "You and your little schemes. You think I don't know what you're doing?"

Cassandra's lower lip quivered. Tears instantly pooled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. "Why would you say that? I'm only trying to help! You're my sister!"

Her voice was loud. Too loud.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Kahlil appeared, his face a mask of dark thunder. He marched down the steps, his eyes sweeping over Bianca's disheveled state and landing on Cassandra's weeping face.

He crossed the room in three strides. He stepped directly in front of Cassandra's wheelchair, shielding her with his body.

"Bianca, enough," Kahlil barked. "Cassandra is worried about you. Don't take your anger out on her."

The words hit Bianca like a physical strike. Her lungs seized. She stared at Kahlil's broad back, protecting the woman who was actively destroying her life. The coldness spread from her stomach to her fingertips.

She pushed away from the table. "Worried?" Bianca let out a broken, hysterical laugh. "She's worried about me? With her little camera and her poisoned words? She's the reason you think I'm a cheater!"

Kahlil's brow furrowed heavily. "What are you talking about?"

Bianca pointed a shaking finger at Cassandra. "Ask her! Ask her who took that photo and who sent it to you! Or are you too blind to see the viper in your own home?"

Cassandra let out a loud sob. She grabbed the fabric of Kahlil's trousers. "Kahlil, she's scaring me..."

Something snapped in Kahlil. He reached out and shoved her shoulder, pushing her back with a harsh, unyielding force. The force of his push was harder than he intended. Bianca's legs were already weak. The shove sent her stumbling backward. Her hip slammed violently into the sharp corner of the heavy glass coffee table.

A sickening thud echoed in the room.

Bianca gasped. The pain that ripped through her abdomen was so intense her vision went completely black for a second. She clutched her stomach, folding in half. Her face drained of all color, turning a terrifying, ashen gray. But as she looked up at Kahlil, a twisted, desperate smile broke across her lips.

Madwoman. That's all he saw. That's all he would ever see.