CHAPTER SEVEN-- BREAKING POINT

Ella's POV

The sound of shattering glass jolted me awake. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding, before realizing it was just another nightmare about the banquet. Three days had passed, but the image of Collins and Dave fighting wouldn't leave my mind. Neither would the look in Collins' eyes when he'd practically announced our indiscretion to everyone. I don't even want to think about Dave's rage. 

All in all, the last three days have been horrible.

"Bad dream?" Dave's voice made me freeze. He stood in the doorway of our spare bedroom, watching me with those cold eyes I'd grown to fear. Since the banquet, he'd barely slept, spending his nights pacing the house like a caged animal. His seriously bruised face, careful stance and bandage on his arm remind me how serious the fight had been. I don't know how Collins looks but I bet it's not as bad as Dave does.

"I'm fine," I whispered, pulling the covers tighter around myself.

"Of course you are." He walked to the window, yanking the curtains open. Early morning light flooded the room. "You're always fine, aren't you, Ella? Even when my uncle is making implications about my wife."

I swallowed hard. "Dave, you're being paranoid. Collins was just trying to get under your skin—"

"Am I?" He spun around, and I flinched. "Then explain why you've been so jumpy lately. Explain why you keep checking your phone every five minutes."

Because I'm trying to escape you, I wanted to scream. Because last week, I'd finally gathered the courage to meet with a divorce lawyer. Because every second I spent in this house felt like drowning. At this point, I wish he would just leave the house to meet one of his numerous women but he hasn't stepped a foot outside since we came home.

"I've been worried about you," I said instead, the lies coming easily now. "The business—"

"Don't talk about my business!" His hand slammed against the wall, making me jump. "You think I don't know what everyone's saying? Poor Dave Scott, can't keep his business afloat, can't even keep his wife in line."

By people, I knew he was referring to his mother. Aunt Martha had always disliked me.

At first, it was because I had no family and had grown up in an orphanage. She was a stickler for riches and had told me several times that Dave should have married a rich man's daughter.

Besides that, she had always found different reasons to hate me.

I got out of bed slowly, keeping the furniture between us. "I need to get ready for work."

"No." His voice was deadly calm. "You're not going anywhere today. We need to talk about what's been going on with you lately."

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Dave reached it before I could, his face darkening as he read the screen. "Lily again? You've been talking to her an awful lot."

My heart raced. Lily was the only one who knew about my plans to leave, the only one helping me prepare for my escape. "She's my best friend, Dave. Of course we talk."

He scrolled through my messages, and I silently thanked God that Lily and I had been using a separate burner phone for anything related to the divorce. "Your best friend who keeps inviting you to lunch during work hours? Who's suddenly so interested in your whereabouts?"

"Give me my phone, Dave."

He ignored me, continuing to scroll. "You've deleted some messages, haven't you? What are you hiding, Ella?"

"Nothing! I just—" I broke off as he suddenly tossed the phone onto the bed.

"Get dressed," he said, his voice eerily calm. "We're having breakfast with my parents. Mother specifically requested your presence."

My stomach dropped. Martha had never approved of me, and after the banquet incident, I could only imagine what she wanted to say. Her expression that night was murderous but I kept a wide berth till I could leave.

"I really need to go to work—"

"I said," Dave's voice dropped dangerously, "we're having breakfast with my parents. Unless you have something to hide?"

I forced myself to stay calm as I headed to the bathroom. Once inside, I turned on the shower and pulled out the burner phone hidden behind the loose tile under the sink.

One new message from Lily: "Everything's ready. The lawyer has the papers. Just say when."

My hands shook as I typed back: "Dave's watching my regular phone. Taking me to his parents' house. Need extraction plan."

Her response came quickly: "On it. Don't panic. Remember the code word if you need immediate help."

I deleted the messages and replaced the phone just as Dave knocked on the door. "Ten minutes, Ella. Don't make us late."

As I showered and dressed, my mind raced. I needed to get out before Dave discovered the truth, before Collins' implication at the banquet led to more questions. The masked party had been a mistake – one wonderful, terrible mistake that could destroy everything.

The drive to his parents' house was silent. Dave's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and I could practically feel the rage radiating off him. When we pulled up to the mansion, I noticed another car in the driveway.

My blood ran cold. I knew that sleek black Bentley.

"Looks like Uncle Collins decided to join us," Dave said, his voice dripping with false cheerfulness. "Won't this be fun?"

As we walked to the front door, my phone buzzed again. Dave snatched it from my purse before I could react. His face went pale as he read the message, then dark with fury.

"Who," he said slowly, "is Christopher Wellington, and why is he sending you documents about divorce proceedings?"

The world seemed to stop. My lawyer must have sent the message to my regular phone by mistake. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Dave grabbed my arm, his fingers digging in painfully. "I asked you a question, Ella."

Before I could answer, the front door opened. Collins stood there, his face bruised from their fight, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him.

For a moment, time seemed suspended as the three of us stood there, each of us holding secrets that could destroy the others. A small part of me noted that Collins only had that small bruise around his eye. This must be fuelling Dave's anger.

Then Dave's phone rang, breaking the silence. He answered it without letting go of my arm, his face changing as he listened.

"What do you mean you have photos of my wife and a man in a hotel room?" he demanded, his eyes darting between Collins and me. "What photos?”