Ana's POV
When I saw Ridley standing there, memories from this afternoon crashed over me—his cold expression as he commanded the servants to trap me in that suffocating dark room.
My face drained of color, and terror clawed at my insides. I retreated, watching him with guarded eyes. "What do you want?"
Ridley seemed to notice my reaction, and something like regret flickered across his features. His voice turned unexpectedly soft as he gazed at me with surprising tenderness. "I made a mistake this afternoon. I swear I won't lock you in that attic again."
I wasn't buying his act. "Get out," I said flatly.
Rather than leaving, Ridley moved closer. "I'm not giving you a divorce, and you're not walking away from this house.
"I'll pretend nothing happened between you and that guy. You're still my wife. Accept it.
Your arms and legs are damaged now. If you walked out, where would you even go?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "You know exactly who caused these injuries."
