The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Stella asked quietly, "What's going on with Joshua?"

Abby replied, "I think he rushed back as soon as he heard about your accident. But he still had things to take care of, so he's already gone back to handle it."

She remembered the look on Joshua's face it had been strange, almost unrecognizable. He wasn't the cheerful, easygoing Joshua she'd always known. Maybe there really was something serious going on in his world, something he hadn't finished dealing with before he came to see her.

But Abby's attention was fixed entirely on Stella. Though Joshua's behavior had seemed odd, she hadn't thought much more about it.

Stella nodded, letting the matter drop.

"Abby, you should go get some rest," she said softly. "I want to try and sleep for a while."

Abby stood up immediately. "Alright. If you need anything, just ring for me."

Stella murmured her agreement and closed her eyes.

It wasn't until the hospital room door clicked shut and she was finally alone that tears began to slip silently from the corners of her eyes.

***

Down in the basement, Foreman entered.

Sellers was chained inside a cramped, makeshift cell, looking every bit as ragged and desperate as a stray dog.

Foreman's expression was dark as he strode in. Without a word, he grabbed a riding crop from the wall and lashed it at Sellers with a vicious snap.

The whip cracked through the air, landing hard across Sellers' arm as he tried to shield himself. Blood appeared in a swift, angry line.

But Foreman's rage was far from spent. He struck again and again, wild and telentless, until Sellers was left bloodied and gasping, his skin a web of welts and wounds. Only then did Foreman finally lower his arm, the fury in his chest dulled for the moment.

Sellers' face and body were crisscrossed with red, some of the wounds already scabbing over, leaving his features nearly unrecognizable-almost ruined.

Still, there was no fear in Sellers' eyes. Instead, his gaze was cold and sharp, glittering with something feral.

Foreman met his stare and sneered. "What? Still dreaming up ways to get revenge on me when you get out of here?"

Sellers said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes. If he ever escaped, Foreman wouldn't live to regret it.

Sensing Sellers' murderous intent, Foreman let out a low laugh. "You really think you're getting out of here, Sellers?"

Sellers looked up at him, his voice hoarse but steady. "Foreman, don't fool yourself. You and Neville think

you've hidden me away outnet

trace, but nothing stays secret forever. If I disappear for more than three days, your time is up.

Foreman scoffed. "Before you start making threats, maybe look around and see

whose turf you're standing on. Even if I die, I'll drag you down with me."

Sellers gave a crooked, mocking

smile. "Didn't peg you for the

sentimental type. Too bad all you can do is skulk in the shadows, lusting after your own brother's woman but never daring to say a word. Even your little act of vengeance-you have to do it in secret, afraid she'll ever find out. You play the gentleman, but deep down, you're rotten. The day Stella sees

who you really are, do you think she'll ever accept you? She'll be disgusted-she'll want nothing to do with you."

He spat blood and grinned wider. "Face it, Foreman. You're too much of a coward to ever tell her how you feel. Stella will never choose someone like you—never—"noveldrama

He didn't finish. Foreman's boot slammed into his face, sending him sprawling. Sellers lay on the ground, humiliated, but still managed a twisted, defiant chuckle. "Face it, Foreman. You'll always be a loser."

The only answer Sellers got was another brutal, frenzied beating-one that didn't end until he was barely conscious and Foreman, at last, let him be.