?Chapter 1513:


    Ste held his stare and struggled to keep her voice from shaking. “I’m not trying to meddle in your life. I’m genuinely worried about your state of mind. You’re unwell, William, and illness requires treatment.”


    A cruelugh escaped William’s throat. “Have you forgotten where you stand, Ste? You expect me to trust anything thates from your mouth? Keep your manufactured sympathy to yourself—it turns my stomach.”


    Every syblended like a knife thrust straight into her heart.


    Her lips parted, the words forming in her throat—she wanted to exin that her concern was real, that it bore no connection to their bitter history and certainly nothing to do with Marc.


    She couldn’t bear watching him suffer this way.


    In the end, though, she forced the words down and said nothing at all.


    William pushed himself up from the table, yanked his suit jacket from where it hung on his chair, and made his way toward the entrance without a backward nce.


    At the doorway, he paused and threw a look back at her, his expression shadowed with warning. “I’ll be gone for the next few days. Stay in line. And if I hear you’ve been nning another escape, you understand whates next.”


    Ste stayed rooted to her chair at the table, struck by the realization that every ache in her battered body felt insignificantpared to the crushing weight of helplessness pressing down on her heart.


    She had poured so much effort into rebuilding what existed between them. How could he remain sopletely blind to it?


    Sharon and the others swore that she and William had shared a profound love once. If that was true, how had everything crumbled into this nightmare?


    She could me her amnesia for forgetting—but what excuse did he have?


    gα?ησν????s takes you on a journey


    True to his word, William remained absent for days.


    Confined within the vi’s walls, Ste watched her days blend into an endless cycle where one bled seamlessly into the next with no variation.


    The purple marks on her skin slowly lightened and disappeared, yet deep within her chest, an invisible wound festered—stubborn and raw, refusing to heal.


    Sharon and Josie continued their daily visits without fail. Though entry to the vi remained forbidden, the simple act of standing in the courtyard where they could see her face and exchange words brought themfort.


    Ste kept the truth about William’s violence that night locked away from them.


    Repeatedly, the memory surfaced in her mind—the image of him unravelingpletely. That version of him hadn’t emerged by choice.


    He bore his own private torment.


    During the empty hours, she struck up conversations with the household staff, carefully guiding the discussion toward subjects like mental copses and unprovoked aggression.


    What surprised her was that several servants recognized the behavior—they’d witnessed it in others before.


    From what they shared, such individuals had ultimately received diagnoses like bipr disorder. Without exception, treatment involved medication.


    What they told her nted seeds of worry that grew into anxiety. She longed for William to seek evaluation, but her position gave her no authority to demand it.


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