Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning splitting the sky.
Inside the dimly lit room, a heavy silence hung between two figures. On the floor between them, a toppled toy roboty motionless, its little red hat askew.
M stood frozen, tears brimming in her eyes.
She couldn''t put her feelings into words-she even wondered if she was hearing things. But she knew Lysander''s voice too well, the way he sounded as a young
man.
There was no mistaking it.
Her mind whirled with confusion, unable to process what had just happened.
Seven years of marriage-absurd from the start, absurd through the years, and now, as if fate needed a punchline, utterly insane.
If his "I don''t love you" for all those years had been a lie, what did any of it mean? What was real-what had ever been real?
Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as her heart quietly crumbled.
"M..."
Lysander''s usually sharp gaze flickered with rare panic. He whispered her name, reaching for her, but M instinctively took a step back.
In that moment, a thousand thoughts raced through her head, and yet, somehow, none at all.
She turned on instinct and bolted.
All she knew was that she had to get out-out of this suffocating house, out of this unbearable moment. She needed a ce to breathe, somewhere small and safe where she could lock the world away and hide.
She just needed to be alone for a while, to catch her breath.
She ran for the front door, barely registering the hurried footsteps pounding behind her. On the way, she shoved a clothing rack aside, sending a pile ofundry toppling to block the path and slow whoever was following.
She burst out of the house.
Outside, the sky was a churning mass of storm clouds. Rain came down in sheets, but M didn''t hesitate—she plunged into the downpour, letting it swallow her whole.
...
By the time Lysander made it outside, the yard was deserted.
The sky hung low and dark, rainshing the ground, wind howling through the trees and bending them nearly double. There was no sign of her.
M was gone.
He stood in the rain for a stunned moment, then quickly pulled out his phone and called Leonard.
"Get everyone over here. Now. Surround the property."
If he''d known things would go this way, he never should''ve agreed toe alone with M.
He should''ve taken her away-locked her up if he had to.
Forever.
Within minutes, Leonard arrived with a team. Lysander ordered him to take a group and search the perimeter, while he headed straight to the house across the street-
Forrest''s ce.
He kicked in the door and stormed inside with his men.
"Search the house!" he barked.
Standing in the living room was Howard, frowning slightly. Lysander fixed him with an icy re. "Where''s my wife? Where''s Forrest?"
Howard only shook his head, offering no reply.
Lysander didn''t care whether he answered or not. He''d brought plenty of backup -Forrest''s own staff were no match for them.
The search was swift and thorough.
But M was nowhere to be found. Forrest was missing too.
Lysander paused at the guest room door. The faint scent of jasmine lingered in
the air—a fragrance he knew by heart.
His eyes narrowed. "Clear it out."
His men moved quickly, gathering up everything that belonged to M, then smashing what was left.
Next, he headed for the art studio.
Inside, Julian sat on the floor, clutching a paintbrush, his wide eyes swimming with tears. The boy looked terrified.
Lysander frowned at the sight, but his voice was cold and unyielding.
"Take everything from the studio as well."
He knew art—he could tell at a nce which pieces were M''s. Anything in this room was hers by right.
None of her things were staying behind not in this house.
The men rushed in to obey, but this time, they were met with resistance. Julian
clung desperately to M''s sketchpad, terror in his eyes as he sobbed, refusing to
let go.
"That''s my mom''s! You can''t take it!"