Death Of A Marriage, Birth Of Revenge

Aurora POV:

Ilene didn't wait for a response. She charged into the room in her stilettos, making a direct line for me.

Ethan reacted instantly. He took a wide step forward, using his massive frame to physically block the space between Ilene and me.

Ilene didn't stop. She threw herself directly into Ethan's arms, her hands gripping his suit lapels in a death hold as tears immediately flooded her face.

I stood frozen in place. I watched my husband embrace another woman on our fifth anniversary. The spasms in my stomach twisted into a sickening knot.

Ethan's large hand moved to Ilene's back, rubbing it in soothing circles. His voice dropped to a level of softness I had never heard him use with me. He asked her why she wasn't resting in the hospital.

It was his subconscious double standard. To him, Ilene was fragile glass that needed protecting, while I was an unbreakable warrior who needed nothing.

Ilene turned her head slightly from his chest. With red-rimmed eyes, she pointed a shaking finger at me and shrilly accused me of occupying a position that didn't belong to me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. A mocking smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. I coldly reminded her that I was his legal wife.

The moment Ilene heard the words "legal wife," she acted as if she had been struck by lightning. She began to hyperventilate violently, pressing both hands over her ears.

Ethan whipped his head around and glared at me. He growled a harsh command, telling me to shut up and stop triggering her condition.

My heart sank completely to the bottom of my chest. I realized then that the truth meant absolutely nothing to this man.

Outside the open doors, a terrified waiter pushed a second serving cart to the threshold, too afraid to step inside.

Resting on top of the cart was a ceramic tureen of French lobster bisque, brought straight from the kitchen. It was still boiling.

Ilene's peripheral vision caught the cart. A flash of pure, calculated madness flickered in her eyes.

She had clawed her way up from the bottom of the underworld. She knew exactly how to use environmental chaos to her advantage.

Ilene suddenly shoved Ethan away. Feigning a complete emotional breakdown, she acted as if she were trying to flee the room and bolted toward the door.

Ethan immediately spun around to chase her, turning his back to me completely.

I frowned. My instincts flared, acutely aware that Ilene's trajectory wasn't aimed at the hallway. She was aiming directly for the cart.

Ilene crashed hard into the silver cart. The metal lid clattered to the floor, and a thick cloud of scalding steam instantly billowed into the air.

The waiter stumbled backward in horror, desperately trying to keep the cart from tipping over.

Ilene spun around. With her bare hands, she grabbed the sides of the ceramic tureen filled with boiling soup.

The extreme heat instantly turned her fingers a bright, angry red, but she gritted her teeth and refused to let go.

I registered the danger a second too late. I instinctively stepped backward, but the heel of my shoe caught on the thick edge of the rug.

Ethan reached Ilene's side. He stretched out his hands, trying to pry the burning tureen from her grip.

Ilene dodged his hands with surprising agility, her eyes locked dead onto mine.

She screamed at the top of her lungs that because I existed, Ethan refused to marry her.

I steadied my footing. I stared at her with ice in my veins and warned her to put the soup down, or she would face the consequences.

It was a mafia heiress's final ultimatum, dripping with the promise of blood.

Ilene didn't stop. Instead, an eerie smile stretched across her face, as if my threat was exactly what she had been waiting for.

She hoisted the heavy tureen and violently hurled the boiling lobster bisque straight at me.

The orange-red liquid formed a deadly arc in the air, radiating a pungent seafood aroma and a wave of searing heat.

My pupils shrank to pinpricks. I threw my left arm up to shield my face.

Ethan's eyes tracked the flying liquid, and his brain made a split-second, instinctual choice.

"Go to hell, you thief occupying his side!"