Chapter 48 She Was Right
“Fuck!” I screamed at the empty air, slamming my hand onto the bed.
The frustration was a physical weight in my gut. I sat there for a few minutes, forcing the air back into my lungs.
I had to fix this. I had to make her understand and apologize for my actions.
After searching for her everywhere, I found her in the kitchen and mindlessly marched inside, starting right away with my guilt of unintentionally hurting her.
“Alyssa, listen, I am sorry, I-I didn’t mean to act irrationally. I didn’t mean to startle you,”
“It’s alright,” Her voice sounded hollow.
“No, it’s not,”
She was sitting at the island, hunched over, chewing on a piece of dry, unbuttered toast.
No water. No jam. Just the sound of dry bread in a silent room.
“Come on, don’t punish yourself at least by eating just this toast,”
Relaxing my shoulders in compassion, I whispered sweetly while coming closer but she only tense her shoulders.
“I said I am fine,”
“Alyssa, listen,” I said softly, forcing a delightful, convincing smile.
“I acted like an idiot. I am sorry. Let me make you something real.”
Putting my hand up defensively, willing to do anything for her, I stepped back, turning towards the fridge.
“Just for you, I will make-”
I reached for the fridge handle, intent on finding something, anything, to nourish her. It didn't budge. I frowned, pulling harder.
Locked.
“What the...?”
I was left mid-sentence because it was locked. Furrowing my brows, I was astonished. How strange.
“Never mind. I will cook-”
Mumbling to myself, I shook my head and moved back, forcing a smile and checked the pantry then which was locked too.
“Why is everything shut down, Alyssa?”
“I..” She swallowed a sob, voice crack, holding her tears at bay, “I don’t know,”
My chest constricted, the way she quivered in order to suppress her sobbing induced the horrific realization that my judgement was wrong.
She wouldn't look at me. She just bit into the dry toast, her jaw tight as she fought back a sob.
The realization hit me like a physical punch to the throat. My mother hadn't just been "strict." She was starving her.
“Is this because of me?” I whispered, the guilt suffocating me, holding her elbow, asking her hopelessly, losing myself.
“Because I yelled? Because I didn't believe you?”
“I said I am fine!” She screamed suddenly.
Standing up so fast her chair screeched against the tile, maintaining distances from me due to our previous confrontation.
“Just let me eat my bread and leave me alone!”
Hands in the air fretfully, refusing to open her mouth again, getting startled by my demeanor which was no longer directed to her.
My jaw clenched, hand in the air powerlessly, resenting the sight this happened to her and I stupidly ruined it all.
She was about to take a bite but I held her wrist again angrily.
I snatched the toast from her hand and threw it across the room. “You are not eating trash while I stand here. I will order something for you,”
“I don’t want-”
“Go to the room. Now.”
She didn't argue. She saw the look in my eyes. The shift from a husband’s frustration to a predator’s wrath.
Startled, ran back to the room, giving me time to process and reach a final decision.
Frustrated, I hit the counter furiously, my endurance shattered when my one damn mistake almost cost me the future I intended to build.
Nonetheless, in order to fix my errors, I didn't call a delivery service first. I called my mother’s staff.
Martha, my mother’s head maid, stood before me five minutes later, her hands shaking. She knew they couldn’t hide anymore.
“Tell me everything,” I said, my voice eerily calm, rubbing my temples in fury.
“We- we already did-”
“If you lie, you will never find work in this city again. I will personally see to it that you are blacklisted.”
The girl broke instantly. The story poured out of her like a wound, the broken phone, the locked cabinets, the verbal abuse, all of it.
All of it penetrated through my chest. I experienced a gut-wrenching pain I never did before. It was… intolerable.
“And the bruise?” I asked, my voice cracking, “On her arm?”
The maid swallowed hard, tears streaming down her face, spilling all the secrets they tried to bury in my walls.
“Madam Lysander... she used her heels, Sir. She kicked her while she was on the floor. And she made us do this too...”
The world went silent. The fury that rose up in me wasn't hot, it was sub-zero. It was a cold, calculating desire for destruction.
My limit was shattered. When under my roof, such cruelty occurred, it won’t go unnoticed, discarding done by who. My silence won’t go unnoticed nor her tears.
That. was. It.
Converting the grief into wrath, an inexplicable amount of fury burst in me.
“Call my mother,” Taking a deep breath, I ordered with barely controlling anger and regret.
“And your Madam Alyssa here. Right. Now,”
“Y-Yes, Sir,”
Nodding, she ran away fretfully as I stood in the hall.
A dark, dominating aura surrounded me, eyes stone-cold, heartbeats thumping madly with fury.
My mother arrived first, wearing her mask of elegance. She sighed as she saw Alyssa hovering at the top of the stairs.
“Vince, darling, really? Must we deal with her theatrics this late?” Mother tsked, smoothing her skirt.
“Why can’t she just let my son breathe freely for once?”
To maintain my supremacy, I didn't answer. I waited for Alyssa to reach the bottom step. When she did, I reached out and took her hand.
Her fingers were ice, but I pulled her firmly against my side, my arm locking around her waist in a silent vow of protection which she didn’t trust at first.
“Alyssa,” I murmured, my voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. I lifted her chin, staring into her wide, frightened eyes.
“I am a fool. I broke my promise to protect you. But that ends tonight.” My voice went lower, overflowing with grief as my fingers caressed the side of her face carefully.
She gulped, holding my wrist with sudden apprehension, “W-What are you trying to say?”
My mother stiffened. “Vince, what is the meaning of-”
“Quiet, Mother,” I snapped, not even looking at her.
I kept my eyes on Alyssa, the one I stupidly hurt.
“Tell me the names. Every single person who touched you. Every person who watched, and I will remove them from our world.”
The silence stretched.
Alyssa looked at me, then at the line of trembling maids, and finally at the woman who had tried to break her.
For the first time, the fear in her eyes died, replaced by a cold, glittering ember of vengeance. Finally trusting me again.
She leaned her head against my shoulder, her grip on my shirt tightening until her knuckles turned white.
“Martha,” She began, her voice steady and chilling. “Ela. Pam.”
She slowly raised a trembling finger, pointing it directly at my mother, hitching her breaths.
“And the one who enjoyed it most... Mrs. Lysander.”