Chapter 2

The moment I stepped into the entryway, I saw that the huge wedding portrait had already been taken down.

In its place hung a family photo of Vivian and Charles with a little boy. Vivian wore a warm, captivating smile in the photo, looking every bit the lady of the house.

The handmade designer rug I had picked out myself was gone because someone had replaced it with a gaudy gold pattern.

Every piece of art I had hunted down from around the world had vanished. Instead, the walls were covered with posters for Vivian's solo piano recitals.

A cheap, sugary perfume hung in the air, thick enough to turn my stomach.

Vivian trailed behind me, watching my face darken as she still tried to make excuses. "Grace, please don't be upset," she said. "Charles set all this up for me temporarily, and he did it just for my safety."

The more she stammered, the flimsier the excuse sounded, which only made me angrier.

Just then, a little boy, four or five years old, came barreling down the stairs.

He threw his arms around Vivian's leg and held up a doll that had been torn to shreds, showing it off like a trophy. "Mommy, look," he shrieked. "I ripped that ugly doll apart, so she can't ever play with it again."

My gaze froze completely.

That doll was a custom piece that could not be replaced. My father, the decorated general, had sewn it by hand as a birthday gift for my daughter, Mia Evans.

In an instant, every single thread pulled together. Charles had not just cheated on me, but he had also teamed up with this woman to seize my home and abuse my daughter.

I stared the pair of them down, my voice colder than it had ever been. "Where is my daughter, Mia?" I demanded.

Vivian's expression turned to pure terror.

The boy noticed nothing, so he pointed at me and shrieked. "Who are you, you crazy woman? Get out of my house. Are you talking about that little mute? She wouldn't behave, so Daddy locked her away to think about it."

Before he could finish, Vivian clapped a panicked hand over his mouth.

My mind went white with a single ringing note, and then came a towering rush of rage and fear.

I tore through the house like I had lost my mind. I searched every room and every single corner, but there was no sign of Mia anywhere.

Vivian followed behind me, sobbing and begging me to stop looking. Her sniveling grated on my nerves until I snapped and shoved her hard to the floor.

I had searched the whole villa, and all that remained was the locked basement door.

A terrible thought detonated in my head because I suddenly understood everything, so I lifted my foot to kick the door in.

Right then, Vivian threw herself against the door with a strength that came out of nowhere, barring it with her whole body.

"You can't go in there. Grace, I'm begging you," Vivian screamed.

Rage shot straight to my head, so I drew my foot back to kick her aside. "Move," I roared. "Otherwise, I'll wreck you along with it."

"Stop."

A voice I knew far too well came from behind me, sharp with fury. It was Charles.

Before I could react, he lunged forward and drove his foot into my stomach. The intense pain dropped me to the floor in an instant.

He didn't so much as glance at me. He rushed past and gathered Vivian into his arms like she was something precious.

"Vivian, are you okay?" he asked. "I got a call saying some crazy woman broke into the house, so I need to know if she hurt you."

Vivian slumped against him and wept without a word. Her shoulders shook as tears streaked her face, making her look heartbreakingly helpless.

The sight tore at him, so he gentled his voice to comfort her. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm home now. Whoever thinks they can break into my house and lay a hand on my woman must have a death wish."

As he spoke, he turned those eyes I had once loved on me and glared with pure viciousness. But halfway through the threat, his voice caught.