The Broken Mother's Ruthless Revenge

Ellwood's gaze was lethal. It swept over Zane Archer like a blade, then locked onto Beverley.

"Getting bold, aren't we, Beverley?" he snarled, limping into the room. "My wife. In a hotel room. With my biggest competitor."

Zane stood up slowly, buttoning his suit jacket. He stepped smoothly between Ellwood and Beverley.

"Mr. Stevenson," Zane said, his voice calm, almost amused. "You're misunderstanding the situation. Mrs. Stevenson and I are just discussing a business transaction."

The sight of Zane standing protectively near Beverley sent Ellwood over the edge.

"Get away from her!" Ellwood roared. He shoved Zane hard in the chest, the motion throwing off his already precarious balance.

Zane stumbled back a step but kept his footing. He raised an eyebrow. "Touch me again, Stevenson, and this conversation ends in a lawsuit."

Ellwood ignored him. He lurched past Zane, grabbing Beverley's arm. "You're coming home. Now."

Beverley yanked her arm free. She didn't flinch. "I don't live with you anymore, Ellwood. Sign the papers. Let's keep this civil."

Her coldness infuriated him. He wanted a fight. He wanted her to cry, to beg, to react. Her indifference was a slap in the face.

"Ellwood?"

A soft, trembling voice came from the doorway.

Kaleigh Frederick stood there, leaning heavily against the frame. She must have followed him, using the commotion at the front desk to slip past while the manager was distracted. She looked pale, her eyes wide and glistening with tears.

"How could you, Beverley?" Kaleigh whispered, her voice cracking. "How could you do this to him? To us?"

She walked into the room, her steps unsteady. She positioned herself behind Ellwood, peeking out at Beverley with an expression of pure, wounded innocence.

"I know you're hurting," Kaleigh said, her voice rising in a dramatic plea. "But hurting Ellwood won't bring Aiden back! Please, just stop this!"

Beverley rolled her eyes. The performance was exhausting.

Kaleigh's eyes darted to the fruit basket on the side table. A small paring knife sat next to an apple.

Before anyone could react, Kaleigh snatched up the knife. She held the blade against her own wrist, her hand shaking.

"Make it stop!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "If you hate me so much, take it out on me! Don't punish Ellwood! Just kill me! End this!"

It was a spectacular piece of theater. The damsel in distress, willing to die for love.

Ellwood panicked. "Kaleigh, no!" He lunged for her, his injured leg nearly giving out beneath him as he grabbed her arm.

They struggled. The knife slipped. A thin line of red appeared on Kaleigh's forearm.

Kaleigh let out a piercing shriek, dropping the knife. She clutched her arm, blood seeping between her fingers.

Ellwood caught her before she fell, though the effort cost him a grunt of pain as his leg throbbed. He held her tight, his face white. He turned his furious gaze on Beverley.

"Are you happy now?" he yelled. "You drove her to this! You're a monster!"

Beverley looked at the shallow scratch. It was barely a paper cut. She looked at Ellwood, who was treating it like a mortal wound.

"I want a divorce, Ellwood," she said again, her voice tired. "Just sign the papers."

Suddenly, a loud ringing shattered the tension.

It was Kaleigh's phone. The ringtone was a generic, harsh tone.

Kaleigh's face changed. The tears stopped instantly. The trembling vanished. Her eyes went wide with a terror that looked entirely real.

She looked at the screen. The color drained from her face.

She answered the phone with shaking hands. "Hello?"

She listened. Her breathing grew ragged. Her eyes darted around the room, as if looking for an escape.

"No," she whispered. "Please, no. I did what you asked. Don't—"

She stopped. The person on the other end was speaking.

Kaleigh's eyes rolled back. The phone slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor.

She clutched her chest, her fingers digging into her skin. Her face went deathly pale as she began to hyperventilate, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.

"My heart," she gasped, her voice a strangled wheeze. "I can't... I can't breathe..."

She collapsed. Her body went limp, crumpling to the floor like a marionette with cut strings.

The performance was over. The terror in her eyes, however, was terrifyingly real.

"Kaleigh!" Ellwood screamed. He fell to his knees beside her—ignoring the searing pain in his injured leg—and pulled her into his lap. "Somebody call an ambulance! Now!"

He looked up at Beverley and Zane, his face contorted with panic and rage. "Get out! Both of you! This is your fault!"

With tremendous effort, he managed to lift Kaleigh into his arms, his injured leg screaming in protest, his burned arm straining. He limped toward the door, carrying her out of the room, shouting for help.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Beverley stood in the middle of the room, the silence ringing in her ears. Zane Archer straightened his cuffs, looking mildly annoyed.

On the floor, Kaleigh's phone lay face up. The screen was still lit. The call had ended, but the number was still visible.

Beverley walked over and picked it up. She stared at the unfamiliar number.

Whoever had called had terrified a woman who had just faked a suicide attempt.

Beverley committed the number to memory.