Chapter 4
WREN
When I realized Liam—who, for reasons beyond my comprehension, was standing in my house—had shattered Grandfather Arthur's portrait, I felt all the air leave my lungs.
That old man had treated me like his own granddaughter. He was the only warmth I'd ever known in this family. And this painting—he'd asked me, with his own words, to paint it before he passed. It meant everything to me.
Rage surged through my veins. I lunged toward Liam. "What have you done?"
Before I could take two steps, Ava thrust herself between us, shielding her son. Her voice dripped with wounded accusation.
"Wren, I can tolerate whatever feelings you have toward me, but you will not hurt my child."
What? I stared at her, bewildered by the performance.
She darted a quick glance behind me—at James, I realized—and her voice wobbled into a tearful tremor.
"I knew you wouldn't accept us staying here. We'll leave as soon as we can." She dabbed at eyes that weren't even wet.
Little Liam clutched her skirt, glaring at me. "You don't have to apologize to this bad woman, Mommy. Uncle James said we could stay here. It's his house."
Stay here?
"My idea." James's voice came from behind me. He'd cleaned himself up since the bedroom—no trace of the animal remained. Now he looked every inch the composed master of the house.
"Mother's still taking Benjamin's death out on Ava, even though none of this was her fault. Moving into the main house isn't a good option for them either."
I spun to face him, laughter bitter on my tongue. "You two really aren't even trying to hide it anymore, are you? Let me guess—you're moving her in so you can fuck her more conveniently."
"Wren! How long are you going to spout this nonsense? I told you—I have a responsibility to look after them."
"Your responsibility. Not mine." I ignored him, crouching down to carefully gather the shattered pieces of Grandfather Arthur's portrait.
"This house was a wedding gift from Grandfather Arthur. To me. I have every right to refuse entry to anyone I don't want here."
"The house is my property too!" James's voice sharpened with warning. "And in case you haven't noticed, the Davis family will be under my control soon enough."
"Play nice, and you keep your Mrs. Davis title. Pull more stunts like tonight, and I'll make sure you walk away with nothing."
"You think I give a damn about being your wife? About your fucking money?" I clutched the portrait to my chest, eyes burning as I screamed at him. But he didn't flinch at all.
"Fine. If you're so determined to move them in—fine! Then get ready for me to move out! I wanted a divorce anyway."
I turned and ran upstairs, clutching the portrait, not looking back.
James started after me—but Ava's soft sobs rose behind him, and just like that, his attention snapped elsewhere. He forgot I existed.
I didn't know whether to feel relieved or sick.
Back in my room, I locked the door and leaned against it. Looking down at Grandfather Arthur's damaged portrait, guilt flickered through me.
"I'm sorry, Grandfather. I disappoint you."
"I'll never forget what you did for me. But I don't have the strength left for this marriage."
I wiped the tears from my eyes, pulled out my phone, and found my best friend's name.
Sophia Mitchell.
I typed quickly.
[Help me draft divorce papers. I'm leaving James Davis.]
I woke the next morning to Sophia blowing up my phone. She'd clearly just seen my message.
"What happened, Wren? Why the sudden divorce?"
"Did your insane mother-in-law pull another stunt?"
Questions fired at me one after another. I pressed my fingers to my throbbing temples, unsure which to answer first.
After I finally finished walking her through everything, Sophia's fury erupted.
"That goddamn bastard! How dare he treat you like that? I'll bet he's already been screwing that bitch—why else would he move her in instead of renting them a separate apartment? He's deliberately trying to make you uncomfortable."
"He's doing this to disgust you!" The more she talked, the angrier she got. I could hear her pacing through the phone, practically see her hair standing on end. "How can such vile people exist in this world? They belong in hell together."
Sophia was a powerhouse lawyer who tore opponents apart in court—and she was just as lethal with her mouth outside of it. But that wasn't what I needed most right now.
"So you believe me? You believe... it wasn't my imagination?"
My voice trembled slightly. Sophia caught it immediately.
"Of course I believe you. Don't you dare doubt yourself, Wren." Her conviction was absolute. "You were the genius girl in university—everyone knew your memory was extraordinary. If it weren't for that damn gratitude, you never would've given up your studies to marry a pig like James. You wouldn't have suffered all these years."
I gripped the phone tighter. Regret washed over me again. "I should've listened to you back then."
"It's never too late. You're still young."
Tears pricked my eyes as I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. "Thank you, Sophia."
"Don't thank me yet. Wait until I've sorted out this divorce—then you can buy me a nice dinner."
"Will it be complicated?" I asked, knowing the Davis family's influence in this city wasn't insignificant.
"Leave it to me. I'll get it done. Start picking out which restaurant."
Talking to Sophia had lifted some of the weight from my chest. But my relief was short-lived.
A text from my mother-in-law lit up my screen.
[Dress appropriately. You're accompanying me to an event tonight.]
