“Then I suggest you choose your next words very carefully.”
Damien Blackwood’s voice was so calm it frightened me more than shouting would have.
Underneath the desk, I held my breath.
Brandon gave a nervous laugh.
“Look, Mr. Blackwood, I don’t want any trouble. My wife has a history of emotional instability. She’s been under a lot of stress lately.”
My stomach dropped.
There it was.
The story he’d been preparing for months.
Whenever I questioned him, he called me unstable.
Whenever I cried, he told people I was dramatic.
And whenever I tried to leave, he reminded me that nobody would believe a woman who couldn’t even control her own emotions.
Damien didn’t respond immediately.
Then he asked, “Is she dangerous?”
Brandon hesitated.
“What?”
“You said she’s unstable. I’m asking whether she’s dangerous.”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why are you searching for her like she’s escaped from a prison?”
A heavy silence followed.
I pressed my palm against the carpet to steady myself.
