She took an unlabeled amber vial from the drawer and gripped it tightly in her hand. Then walked down the dim hallway toward the double-height living room.
In the faint glow of two wall sconces, she went behind the marble bar and retrieved a bottle of Macallan whisky from the climate-controlled liquor cabinet. She quickly unscrewed the cap of the small vial, poured the liquid into a crystal glass, and filled it up with the whisky.
Billy Hampton, the butler who had served the family for years, came out of the kitchen carrying a silver tray. When his gaze caught the glass of whisky, it darkened slightly. He did not stop her; he merely bowed his head in silent salute and retreated into the shadows.
At the front entrance, the smart lock beeped sharply. The heavy door swung open, and a blast of cold late-autumn rain swept into the warm living room.
Her husband,Hale Montgomery strode into the foyer. Dressed in a dark gray bespoke three-piece suit, the ruthless CEO of Montgomery Global looked tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing. He raised one hand to yank his silk tie loose, his gray-blue eyes cold and exhausted after a brutal day on Wall Street.
He tossed his rain-soaked trench coat to Billy and glanced toward the bar. The moment his eyes landed on the pure white gown clinging to Idella's figure, his pupils contracted sharply.
His long legs carried him across the room in heavy strides, his leather shoes clicking loudly against the marble floor until he stopped three paces from the bar.
Idella forced down the sour tightness in her throat. Lifting her amber eyes, she slid the crystal glass across the marble counter toward him.
"Happy third wedding anniversary, Hale. Have a drink."
Hale looked down at the swirling amber liquid, pressed the tip of his tongue hard against his back teeth, and spoke in a voice as cold as ice.
"I've told you many times not to wear pure white in this house."
Idella's fingers tightened around her own glass until her knuckles turned white.
"It's just an ordinary dress. Tonight is our anniversary. Don't we even deserve a normal dinner?"
Hale let out a low, mocking laugh and stepped right up to the bar, his tall shadow swallowing her whole.
"Anniversary? Idella, have you forgotten how this marriage started?"
He reached out, picked up the spiked whiskey, rubbed his long fingers against the cold glass, and tilted his head back to drain the liquor in one gulp.
The whiskey burned down his throat, spreading a fierce heat through his stomach that quickly turned into an abnormal, raging fire rushing through his veins.
He slammed the empty glass down onto the marble counter with a sharp crack. Under the dim light, the faint, old bite scar on the inside of his left wrist flushed a dark red. He raised his left hand to rub the tight bridge of his nose, bloodshot veins creeping into his gray-blue eyes as his vision grew hot and blurry.
Idella took a deep breath, walked around the bar to stand in front of him, and summoned all her courage to place both hands gently against the warm, taut fabric of his suit jacket. Through his tailored shirt, her palms felt the violent hammering of his heart. She tilted her pale neck up, softening her voice.
"Hale, we need a child. For the Montgomery family, and for us."
Hale's large hand shot up and clamped around her wrist. His palm was burning hot, his grip tight enough to crush her bones.
"A child?"
He lowered his head, his ragged, scorching breath brushing against her ear as he rasped out a bitter taunt.
"You went through all the trouble of drugging me just to trap the family trust fund with a baby?"
The drug exploded fully inside him. Hale yanked her into his arms, gripped the back of her neck with his free hand, and crushed his mouth against hers, stealing her breath in a rough, desperate kiss. Their bodies tangled under the dim light, the heavy weight of his frame pressing her back as the rustle of his suit filled the quiet room.
Idella closed her eyes in surrender, a hot tear slipping from the corner of her eye as she wrapped her arms around his broad, burning back.
Suddenly, Hale's unfocused gaze caught the white lace and smooth satin slipping off her shoulder. A buried memory of a girl in pure white who had saved him during his darkest childhood years flashed violently through his mind, tearing his sanity apart in a surge of rage.
He wrenched his mouth away from hers, the veins on his forehead bulging as he shoved her back with all his strength.
Idella stumbled backward and slammed her spine hard against the sharp corner of the marble bar, gasping for air as pain shot through her back.
Bracing one hand on the counter, Hale panted heavily, grabbed a pitcher of ice water, and dumped the entire thing over his own head. Freezing water mixed with sweat dripped down his sharp jawline as he glared at her pale face.
"Don't dirty the color she used to wear. You don't deserve it."
Idella slid down the side of the bar onto the carpet, wrapping her arms around her stomach as if an invisible hand were squeezing her heart until she couldn't breathe.
Billy stepped forward from the shadows to hand Hale a dry towel, casting a complicated look at Idella on the floor. Instead of taking the towel, Hale swept his arm across the counter and knocked over the crystal decanter, sending dark red wine pooling across the white rug as thunder boomed outside the penthouse windows.
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