ella

d when my cell phone vibrated again. It wasn't the

Pinecrest

e. I answered with a trembling han

rsed, oily politeness. "I apologize for the intrusion, but it seems there has been an unfortunate a

. "I... I can fix it.

nfazed by my panic. "If the balance isn't settled within twenty-four hour

hrough the phone's static, I could faintly hear the rhythmic *hi

reak my spine; he just had to squeeze my only weakness. The fragile rebellion I had nurtured

on, I was escorted to a priva

ion cell. Silvana Vance sat in the shadows of a high-backed armchair. The faint, pur

eather-bound document and a heavy Mon

a brutal stripping of my dignity. I was to admit to a "loss of emotional control due to female hysteria," apol

hovered ove

tilator keeps pumping air. Refuse, and I will personally walk into Pinecrest and pul

sea rolled in my stomach, but I picked up the pen. The ink flowed black and perman

grand foyer was shattered by the massive flat-screen TV

t slipping from

r beneath him read: *Vincenzo Moretti Named Philanthropist of the Year.* He

the press, was Giuliana Gallo. In her arms, she held

on television while holding a gun to

ter suite behind me. I collapsed onto the California king bed, burying my face in the Egyptian cotton duvet, and screamed until my throat was ra

nally stopped, th

s, the stern new housekeeper, stepped in. She didn't offer the pity

ded the

Wear the blue dr

yes red-rimmed, the faint scar on my cheek a reminder of the violence I was married to.

d. I would wear his dress. I would sit at his table. But I was no longer just trying to escape