Chapter 5

"Didn't I already tell you that was the last time? And you still dared to send someone to threaten Lia," Rowan snapped. Ava glanced down at Rowan's signature on the divorce agreement, satisfaction flickering across her face. As she looked at Lia's pitiful, theatrically fearful expression, Ava was in such a rare good mood that she even humored Lia's performance. "Threaten?" Ava stepped off the bed, picked up the fruit knife from the bedside table, and brushed it along Lia's cheek before driving it forcefully into the wall behind her. "Look closely. That is what a threat looks like." If Lia hadn't helped secure Rowan's signature, that knife would have landed on her instead. This time, Lia was genuinely terrified. The color drained from her face, her entire body trembling uncontrollably. Ava turned to put the agreement away when Rowan's cold voice rang out behind her. "You think you can walk away after threatening someone with a knife?" He closed the distance between them one step at a time, his eyes dark and vicious. Ava met his stare without fear, a mocking curl at her lips. "What, Mr. Sinclair, feeling protective? That was just a demonstration. If I wanted to truly threaten her, she wouldn't be able to speak right now." "Sharp tongue on you." Ignoring the wounds covering her body, Rowan dragged her out into the hallway without the slightest restraint. "Clearly, I've indulged you too much. You've forgotten your place." "Get down." He released her, issuing the command from above her with a quiet authority that filled the empty hallway. Ava straightened her spine and let out a cold laugh. "And why would I?" "Because you just threatened Lia with a knife." Roman's gaze was sharp. "The Sinclairs have rules. You do wrong, you answer for it." "I'll give you two options. First, get down and apologize to Lia, and you don't get up until she forgives you. Second," he paused, his tone turning cold. "Refuse, and Martha and Caleb pay for what you did." Ava's heart twisted as if caught in an invisible fist. The same tactic. Again. Rowan hesitated for a fleeting second as he watched her defiant expression, but Lia's soft crying cut through it. "Fine. I'll do it." Ava's voice was unnervingly calm. Slowly, she sank to the cold marble floor, lowering herself with deliberate control, her back still held perfectly straight. "Ms. Merritt," Ava said, enunciating each word with flawless clarity, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have used a knife to frighten someone like you, a shameless mistress who breaks up a marriage and becomes the other woman. "And truthfully," Ava continued, her voice steady, audible to every nurse lurking around the corner, "I should have driven the knife straight through your heart." "Ava Hartley!" Rowan roared. Ava no longer looked at him. She said nothing more, simply knelt, her face devoid of emotion. Seeing the unyielding way she held herself—prouder kneeling than most were standing—something inside Rowan snapped. This wasn't remorse. It was defiance. He spun around and stormed off, throwing over his shoulder, "When you finally come to your senses and apologize sincerely to Lia, then you may get up." Ava stayed kneeling on the icy floor, nurses whispering in the distance, each word a needle pricking her skin. "Isn't that Mrs. Sinclair? Why is she kneeling here?" "I heard she threatened Ms. Merritt to make her leave Mr. Sinclair and got punished for it." "People used to call her the last gem of Harborcrest and said that she was bold and passionate. Now look at her, reduced to his, fighting tooth and nail to keep her marriage." Their pitying eyes and quiet sighs blurred into one. Ava's mind drifted to a banquet three years ago, when a spoiled socialite had deliberately spilled red wine on her gown. Rowan hadn't hesitated. He had lifted the entire bottle and poured it over the woman's head. "My wife is not someone you get to bully. Now get out of Harborcrest," he said coldly before the entire hall. The sight of his back shielding her that night had once convinced her she would always have a home behind him. And now that same man was watching her kneel on a hospital floor, letting strangers gawk at her humiliation with impunity. Her vision swam. Her body wavered. Just before consciousness slipped away, she saw Rowan emerging from the room with his arm carefully around Lia, not sparing Ava a single glance. Her strength gave out, and she collapsed soundlessly. ... When Ava woke again, pain pulsed through every inch of her body. She opened her eyes to Rowan's furious face. "Ava!" He slammed a medical report onto her. "Whose bastard are you carrying?"