The Wife He Left To Drown

ra Mann

chest. Christian's gaze, sharp and questioning, bore in

fast. I glanced towards the study door. "Listen," I murmured, a hint of some

, all senses on alert. Just then, Gisselle appeared, wrapped in a silken robe, her

"My head hurts. And my leg... it's aching so badly." She

"What's wrong, darling? Are you okay?" His voice, so often cold and commanding, was now

anished for days without a word. He was playing the ever-protective knight to Gisselle's damsel in distres

I'm hurt." I was bleeding, alone, in a ditch by the side of the road after a botched security operation. His voice had been cur

searing and sudden. I'd called him, gasping for breath. "Christian, I... something' s wrong. I need to go to the hospital." He had been with Gisselle then, comforting her after some minor social slight. "Alexandra, you know how important this operation is. Don't be dram

him about the baby. It would only have been another weapon for him

was more than I could bear. My stomach churned. I needed to get out. I turned

buckling beneath her. With a dramatic flourish, she collapsed to the flo

shoulder screamed in protest, a fresh, searing pain ripping through the stitches. I gas

"What have you done?! How dare you touch her?!" He didn't even spare me

raw with pain and indignation. "She fell on p

s. "Oh, Christian, it's alright. Alexandra probably didn't mean to. She's just.

n the leg is being 'upset,' Gisselle?\" He turned his blazing g

? He would never believe me. He had already made up his mind. I looked at

glass. As he passed me, still kneeling on the floor, his eyes met mine. They we

dra," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous whisp

me alone in the opulent, empty study. The pain in my shoulder

in, her face etched with concern. "Your shoulder! You'

fingers clumsy with pain. It was a restricted n

dition is... unstable. He' s asking for you." The clinical voi

ho was the source of so much of my childhood trauma. Just when I thought things couldn' t get wo

e sterile white walls of his room mirrored the coldness of my heart. He

open. "You came." A manipulative tear rolled

devoid of warmth. "Don't pret

aching out a trembling hand. "Your mother.

, my body trembling with a sudden, violent

, a surprising burst of strength in his frail frame. My eyes widened in shock as a glint of metal f

ed his arm, but the sharp blade still sliced across my wrist,

practiced efficiency. A nurse quickly administered a sedative, an

rayal, of his desperate attempt to harm me, rattled me to my core. The orderly, seeing my tremblin

ricately carved. I had seen it before. On Christian's desk. It was a gift

eople closest to you. They alway