The silence inside the Spencer Estate was suffocating.

Elaine Miller felt his gaze before she saw him. She looked up to find Marcellus Spencer sprawled across the oversized leather sofa, his legs crossed, eyes cold and heavy. "Where were you?"

Elaine avoided his stare. "Max had a fever. I took him to the ER."

Marcellus let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Does the Spencer family lack a private physician? And even if he needed a hospital, Max is Morgan’s son. Since when do you get to play mother?"

He stood up, his voice dropping an octave. "I thought you’d finally come to your senses and stopped picking fights with Morgan. Yet, here you are, still obsessing over kids that aren't yours. I’ve told you—we can always have more."

Perhaps it was the buildup of terror and rage, calcified over years of abuse, but the words slipped out before she could swallow them. "I don’t want any more!"

Marcellus froze. "What did you say?"

Once the first stone was cast, the rest were easy to throw. Elaine met his eyes, her expression stubborn despite the trembling in her hands. "I said I’m done. I’m tired of birthing children just to hand them over to Morgan Rose. I am a human being, not a goddamn incubator!"

Marcellus’s face went glacial. He rose to his full height, his shadow swallowing Elaine whole.

Her mind flickered back to the ward. The memory of the orderlies—towering, hulking figures—flashed behind her eyes. That was exactly how they stood before they raised their heavy batons to shatter the bones in her hands.

Elaine’s pupils dilated. She screamed, burying her head in her arms, and collapsed to the floor. "Don't hit me! Please, I’m begging you, don't hit me! It hurts!"

Marcellus’s expression turned twisted. He actually chuckled. "Is that what you think I’m going to do?"

He walked toward the door, not glancing back. "Fine, Elaine. Have it your way. Hunter, take her outside. Teach her how to speak to her husband."

Hunter Olson, the bodyguard, moved with the mechanical indifference of an executioner. He hauled Elaine toward the pool terrace and shoved her in without a second thought.

The water was biting, a frozen blade against her skin. Elaine went pale, her limbs locking up. This was a classic trick from the ward; the nurses would hold her head under until she fought for air, then bring in the male patients to leer and mock her shivering, soaked frame. The psychological damage was total. Even now, the sight of water sent her body into a state of paralyzed terror.

"No... please... I was wrong... let me out..."

Hunter remained unmoved. He grabbed a handful of her hair and slammed her head under the surface.

Veins bulged on Elaine’s forehead. She thrashed, desperate and clawing, but she was weightless and weak against his grip. Just as her lungs began to sear and her vision turned to static, he hauled her up just long enough for a ragged gasp of air.

Over and over. The cycle repeated until her consciousness frayed at the edges.

Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Hunter call out to Marcellus. "Sir, she’s looking a bit rough. Should I stop?"

Marcellus’s voice drifted over the line, cold and saturated with lingering rage. "Keep going. Morgan is right. She needs to be broken of these habits."

Hunter gave a crisp nod and shoved her head back under.

Oxygen starvation turned the world into a kaleidoscope of hallucinations. She saw her mother, smiling as she cradled a baby. *You love Marcellus so much, why don't we set up a marriage contract for you two?*

Then, the wedding day. Marcellus kissing her forehead, whispering, *Don't listen to the gossip. I trust you.*

Then, Max, pushing her away to throw himself into Morgan’s arms. *You’re not my mother!*

Finally, the blood-soaked faces of her parents, their eyes hollow, their voices dripping with accusation: *Why are you with the man who killed us? Why are you sleeping with the monster who destroyed our lives?*

*I didn't! I didn't!* Elaine screamed silently into the water, finally letting her limbs go slack. She stopped fighting.

***

When she came to, it was deep into the night.

Elaine’s lips cracked as she whispered, "Water..."

A glass was pressed against her lips. She turned her head weakly and saw Marcellus. He fed her water with a touch that was almost tender, pulling her into his chest. He looked genuinely annoyed. "I’m sorry, Elaine. I just lost my temper."

"How could you say I view you as nothing more than a baby-maker?"

Isn't that exactly what you are?

Elaine had no strength left to argue. Her breathing was shallow, jagged. She had never felt this fragile, and for a fleeting second, she saw a flicker of genuine pity in Marcellus’s eyes.

He lowered his head and kissed her eyelids, his voice a soft, manipulative hum. "Give me time. I’ll make it up to you. Once the kids are older, I’ll tell them the truth. We’ll be a real family again. Doesn't that sound nice?"

It sounded like a nightmare.

*No,* Elaine thought to herself.

Her visa would be ready in a few days. She was leaving.

The next few days were quiet. Elaine stayed holed up in her room, nursing her bruises and waiting for the silence to break. It didn't take long. Morgan Rose kicked the bedroom door open, stormed toward the bed, and grabbed Elaine by the collar, hauling her up.

"Elaine Miller! What did I ever do to you? Why are you trying to destroy me?"