Chapter 16
What made it worse was how polite Victoria’s messages always sounded.
During her lowest emotional point, Amber had once responded to these inquiries with razor-sharp retorts, only to find her words screenshot and circulated throughout Victoria’s social circles. The narrative of “Amber the vindictive wife” became even more deeply ingrained in everyone’s minds.
Amber knew exactly what Victoria was doing-slowly destroying her with the “death by a thousand cuts” technique, methodically pushing her toward a complete breakdown.
And it had worked. For three years, not a single day had passed without agonizing pain.
She didn’t reply to this latest message. After thirty minutes composing herself in the restroom, she quietly made her way downstairs.
Just as she stepped outside the hospital entrance to hail a cab, a car pulled up directly in front of her.
The license plate was unmistakably Blake’s-all 1’s in sequence, the only one of its kind in all of New York.
The window lowered, revealing Blake’s face.
‘Get in.”
Amber pretended not to hear, walking past the vehicle toward the street. She needed to get by to catch a taxi.
she’d only taken a few steps when she heard a car door open.
Suddenly, fingers clamped around her wrist, jerking her backward.
The metallic scent hit her first-blood. Her eyes instinctively dropped to his hand, which was indeed bleeding. Crimson smears had already transferred to her
wrist.
Her brow furrowed as the color drained from her face. She frantically tried to push him away.
Ever since the car accident, she’d developed a phobia of blood-a visceral revulsion that triggered her gag reflex.
Blake knew this. Cursing under his breath, he hid his injured hand behind his back and reached for her with his other one.
But Amber recoiled as if he’d touched a raw nerve. “DON’T touch me.”
Blake’s expression darkened completely. “Amber, how long are you going to keep this up?”
he fell silent, fighting the rising nausea while digging through her purse for antiseptic wipes. She frantically scrubbed at her wrist, going through more than a lozen tissues, but the bloody smell seemed permanently etched into her skin. Finally unable to hold back, she leaned against the nearest surface and vomited.
The world spun. Blake pulled her against him and shoved her into the car.
Let me OUT!”
Except for their first two years of marriage, their rare encounters had been nothing but hostile confrontations. In the past year, Blake had barely come home at ill, and Amber had grown increasingly silent, no longer having the energy to fight.
Every time she saw Blake, she hated how easily he could push her over the edge.
Blake slammed the car door, pulled a first aid kit from the side compartment, and haphazardly wrapped gauze around his palm.
With the windows open and the AC running, the bloody smell dissipated quickly, but Amber still felt nauseated, her face ghostly white.
She’d passed out when Zach’s wife had smashed a vase near her-the sight of blood had triggered her condition.
Now she simply closed her eyes. What she couldn’t see couldn’t hurt her.
After daging his hand, Blake instructed Devon in the driver’s seat, “Drive.”
Devon immediately stepped on the gas.
The car fell silent. With her eyes closed, Amber didn’t notice Blake’s gaze lingering on her face.
In three years, they’d seen each other so rarely that she could count the occasions on one hand, and every time had ended in an argu
He was constantly traveling, flying between domestic and international locations.
Halfway through the drive, his phone rang. It was a call from The Pine Creek Estate.
♡ (2)
