Chapter 10 - The Unraveling Begins
Three days passed,
three days of Vivian's psychological torture,
all documented flawlessly by the hidden lenses.
She withheld my pain medication,
she 'accidentally' bumped into my injured shoulders,
and she whispered vile,
hateful insults while changing my bandages.
But I never reacted,
I never cried,
I just stared at her with a blank,
hollow expression that seemed to infuriate her even more.
On Thursday evening,
Daniel came home with a manic,
excited energy,
clapping his hands together as he walked into the kitchen.
"We are hosting a small dinner party tomorrow night,"
he announced,
pouring himself a glass of expensive scotch.
"My senior partners are coming over,
along with their wives.
It is time to show them that my beautiful wife is recovering perfectly,
and that our household is a pillar of strength."
Vivian smiled,
already mentally planning the elaborate menu she would take credit for.
"She is barely out of bed, Daniel,"
Vivian pretended to object,
playing the concerned mother.
"Nonsense,"
Daniel dismissed,
pointing a stern finger at me.
"Elena will wear the long-sleeved silk dress,
she will sit at the table,
and she will smile.
I will not let my promotion be derailed by whispers of domestic instability."
The next night,
the house was filled with the smell of roasting meat and the sound of classical music.
Vivian forced me into a tight,
emerald green silk dress,
the fabric pulling agonizingly against my healing burns.
I walked into the dining room,
my face pale,
my hands trembling naturally from the sheer physical exertion.
Daniel's boss,
Mr. Harrison,
was a stern,
observant man with piercing blue eyes.
He stood up when I entered,
offering a polite,
sympathetic nod.
"Elena,
it is wonderful to see you on your feet,"
Mr. Harrison said,
his voice genuine.
"Daniel told us about your terrible accident in the kitchen."
"Thank you, Mr. Harrison,"
I whispered,
keeping my eyes cast downward,
playing the terrified,
abused wife to absolute perfection.
"I am just so clumsy."
Daniel beamed,
pulling out my chair with a flourish.
Dinner proceeded with Daniel dominating the conversation,
bragging about his accounts,
his golf swing,
his perfect life.
But I waited for my moment,
the perfect opportunity to plant the seed of his destruction in front of his most important audience.
When Vivian walked into the room carrying a large,
steaming tureen of soup,
I executed the plan.
As she approached the table,
I let out a sudden,
sharp gasp,
flinching violently backward in my chair.
I threw my hands over my face,
trembling uncontrollably,
knocking over my crystal wine glass in the process.
Red wine spilled across the pristine white tablecloth,
staining it like fresh blood.
The entire dining room went dead silent.
Mr. Harrison frowned,
his eyes darting from my terrified face to Vivian,
who stood frozen with the hot soup in her hands.
"Elena!"
Daniel hissed,
his mask slipping for a fraction of a second,
his voice tight with genuine,
unfiltered rage.
"What is wrong with you?
Stop making a scene!"
I slowly lowered my hands,
forcing tears to well up in my eyes,
looking at Mr. Harrison with the desperate,
haunted gaze of a hostage.
"I'm sorry,"
I whimpered,
shrinking away from Vivian as if she were a monster.
"Please,
don't pour it,
please,
I'll be good."
Mr. Harrison's wife gasped,
covering her mouth in horror,
finally seeing through the charming facade of the Sterling family.
Daniel stared at me,
May you like
his face draining of all color,
suddenly realizing that the cage he built was entirely made of glass,
