CHAPTER 007

CHAPTER 007: Sarah Confronts Rowan’s Cruel Control

I sat at the vanity, staring at my reflection; the house was suffocatingly quiet. The dress Rowan had chosen to wear fit against my body just so, and my makeup was perfect; I looked flawless, the shimmering eyeshadow catching when the room light dimmed, and it was time for me to bid him goodnight. I was the perfect wife, just as he wanted me to be. No amount of beauty could mask the emptiness in my eyes.

“Are you ready yet?” Rowan’s voice cut through the silence, looking like a blade. Arriving in the doorway, he stood there, perfectly suited. His eyes passed over me in a cool, detached perusal, as if he were looking at a doll.

I nodded, standing slowly, and swallowed hard. “Yes, I’m ready.”

He said, his tone without warmth. “Don’t embarrass me tonight, okay?”

His words hit like a whip, but I kept my face neutral. It was pointless to react. Defiance would only bring more cruelty. I walked out to the car, the click of my heels on the polished floor sounding like a countdown. Each step was heavier than the last.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet. He had his phone glued to his fingers, scrolling, typing, and filling whatever screen there was with an intensity that left me feeling as if I could have walked through him. I looked out the window, the city lights streaking into gold and white. I looked at myself in the glass, and I didn’t recognize the person I saw. How did I become this kind of person?

The restaurant was as extravagant as I had expected—a gold chandelier, the soft plinking of classical music—an exclusivity that I was wholly aware I didn’t belong at. Rowan put his hand on my back and led me inside. To an outsider it might have seemed a caring gesture, but to me it was another reminder of how much control he thought he had over me.

He muttered under his breath, “Smile.” ‘You don’t look like you want to be here.’

I tried to smile, but the corners of my mouth hurt from the effort. I took a deep breath as we approached the table of his business partners about to give my performance.

One of the men stood up and shook his hand, saying, “Ah, Rowan!” This must be your lovely wife. "Sarah, isn’t it?”

I said yes, although my chest was tight and my voice was steady. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

After that, they barely acknowledged me and instead started talking about investments and mergers. I sat there silently, nodding occasionally when someone looked at me. I saw Lilith, lounging at a table across the room. Her blonde hair shone under the chandeliers, as she always did, and she looked stunning. She flashed me a predatory, mocking smile that made my stomach churn and kept her gaze locked on to mine.

Rowan’s hand found the back of my chair as the men talked, and there was something possessive in it that only made me feel more trapped. Occasionally he leaned in to speak to me, his words slightly laced criticism.

At one point, he whispered, “Straighten your posture.” “You look disinterested.”

Heat rose to my cheeks as I adjusted myself. It was a slow-dripping faucet of humiliation. I tried to look at the food, artfully arranged on fine china, but it didn’t taste like anything. I didn’t feel like I could shake the feeling that I was being watched and scrutinized.

Then she appeared—Lilith. A glass of wine in hand, her dress stuck on her like a second skin, she walked over. Fake charm dripped from her voice, "Rowan." “How wonderful to see you.”

Rowan’s smile shifted; it was something genuine for the first time that night. “Lilith,” he said warmly. “You look amazing.”

I’d kept my expression neutral, but my chest tightened. I wouldn’t let her see me break.

Lilith turned to me with feigned sweetness, “Sarah.” ‘You’re so lucky to have Rowan.’ He’s quite the catch.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, mirroring the sharpness in my nails, which dug into my hands beneath my palms.

She stayed a moment longer before going back to her table. Rowan’s eyes followed her, and the hollow feeling in my chest grew. My appetite was long gone. I looked down at my plate.

Rowan wrapped one conversation into the other until the evening turned to twilight, and still she carried on. One time, he noticed a beautiful brunette. So they started talking, and their laughter filled the air. He leaned in, his eyes lighting up in a way I hadn’t seen in years, and I watched.

Something inside me snapped.

I pushed back my chair and said abruptly, “I need to step outside.”

He whipped his head around; his expression darkened. “Sit down, Sarah.”

“I need air,” I said, my voice firm but trembling.

“Don’t make a scene,” he muttered, in such a low and dangerous tone.

I stood and walked away, ignoring him. The murmurs of the restaurant were cut through by the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor. My heart pounded as I stepped outside into the cold night air. It's sharp and biting, but I was glad the atmosphere inside was suffocating.

I was leaning against the wall, my chest heaving. I had defied Rowan for the first time in years. It was a terrifyingly liberating realization. The fear crept in quickly, though. What would he do now? How far would he go to punish me?

“Sarah.”

The sound of his voice made me flinch. I turned and saw him, standing a couple of feet away, his expression blank. Neither of us was speaking for what seemed like a moment, until the silence hung between us like a coiled spring.

Finally, he said, his voice calm but icy, “What was that?” “How does this make me look?”

I shook my voice, but it was firm. “I don’t care.” “I can’t do this anymore, Rowan,” I said.

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. “Do what, exactly? Be a good wife. “Support me like you’re supposed to.”

I said, my voice breaking, “This isn’t a marriage.” “It’s prison."

He tightened his jaw, curling his hands into fists. He spoke low and dangerously, “You don’t get to walk away.” “You’re mine, Sarah. You always have been.”

My eyes welled up with tears, but I wouldn’t look away. “I’m done, Rowan. I’m done being your puppet.”

His expression softened, just a little. The anger came back, but sharper than before. He said no more and turned and walked back inside, leaving me alone in the freezing night.

I stayed there for a while, the cold sinking into my skin. I thought of fear and determination in a chaotic mess. I didn’t know what was coming next, but I knew this wasn’t over. Rowan wouldn’t let it be. He never let anything go.

As I stared up at the starless sky, a single thought consumed me: How much more could I take before I broke?