Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,15

lower belly still cramps. I ignore it as I sprint through the corridor, my breath growing heavy.

I race down the stairs, the cold marble biting at my bare feet. Midway down, the stark, cavernous foyer comes into view. I come to a halt.

There is my husband. Mrs Bates huddled at his side like a conspirator.

I am too late.

My husband looks up and catches my eye, his brows drawing over his strong nose, his deep-set eyes turning dark, his thin lips pinching. He lifts a finger and curls it slowly, once, ordering me to come.

My heart hammers in my chest as I descend. Mrs Bates has added a smug look to her usual scowl.

“That’ll be all, Mrs Bates,” my husband says.

I can feel the disappointment rolling off her. She wanted to bear witness to my punishment. Bitch.

She bobs her head. “Of course, Mr Worthington.” She shoots one last smug look at me before she leaves the foyer.

I barely notice. My feet are unsteady as I approach him. He says nothing, merely turns on his heel and marches into the small room to the side of the foyer, a wood panelled den he often uses to entertain male guests.

I follow him into the room.

“Close the door.”

I do. I take a deep breath and turn around to face him once more. “Edgar—”

“Five years,” he spits out. “Five years and you still haven’t delivered me an heir.”

“I’m sorry.” Unwanted tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I swipe at them, begging them to stop. He hates it when I cry.

“You’re sorry? You lose another baby and all you can say is I’m sorry?” He shoves me back, hard. I bang my head against the door.

Before I can move his palm lashes out, striking me on my cheek with a crack. Pain explodes across my face. I can’t help the cry that rips from me. If only I had gotten to him earlier, perhaps I could have framed it in a way that I could have avoided his anger.

I hear him sigh. His face screws up before it partly disappears behind the hand he uses to rub his forehead. “Get out.” His voice is hollow.

I don’t hesitate. I flee from the den and run to my room, where I slam the door behind me and burrow deep into my blankets. Only then do I let the tears come freely.

What I wouldn’t give to disappear far, far away.

I have no money, no friends except for Emily. I wouldn’t get five miles before he found me and hauled me back. I know, because I tried that once during the first year I was here. I was punished for that too.

As always when I start to fall apart, Dimitri appears in my mind. He smiles at me, the way he used to, touches my cheek. “You can do anything, Alena.” Even when he’s no longer physically here, he’s here for me. I nurse this tiny flame of hope inside me. I can’t let it go out. If it goes out, I’m as good as dead.

I will have a baby. I will get the money owed to me. When I do, I will take my child and Emily, if she wants—I can’t leave her here alone. She is as much a prisoner as I am—and we’ll run away together across the sea. To America. To find the man who still holds my heart and beg his forgiveness.

My husband might have my body, but he’ll never have my heart or my soul. Those I gave to one man a long time ago.

12

____________

Dimitri

Five years ago…

I turn the corner Alena disappeared around. I can’t see her. I spin, searching the streets that branch off for a sign of where she’s gone. She has a few friends at school, but she’s not close enough to any of them to turn to them. I am the only one she has. Except…

I run—like my life is at stake—back to Isabelle’s agency.

I approach the dark door for a second time in…has it been less than an hour since I was here? Since I carried Alena out, fighting and screaming? No one is around. I can’t spot anyone at the windows, curtains drawn. I eye the silent door that seems to stare back and weigh my options. There’s no way anyone is letting me in for a second time. They’ll likely call the police if I bang on the door again. They won’t let me in. I just need to talk to her, to hold her, to