From Jilted Bride To Ruthless Queen

Avery Bright POV:

The ten days felt like a lifetime suspended in alcohol. I found myself in a dimly lit bar, the kind of place Alexander, with his polished tastes, would have hated. The sticky floor and the scent of stale beer were a comfort, a world away from the pristine life he had curated for us.

"Another one, Avery?" Maria slid a fresh glass of whiskey across the bar towards me. "Maybe you should slow down."

I ignored her, taking a long swallow. The burn in my throat was a welcome distraction from the hollow ache in my chest. "He used to love me, M. I know he did."

"Of course, he did," she said softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

The bar's speaker crackled to life, playing a song that was popular our senior year of high school. The melody was a key turning a lock in my memory, and a wave of pain so intense it made me gasp washed over me.

It was the night of the car crash. A drunk driver had run a red light, t-boning my little convertible. I remember the screech of tires, the shattering glass, and then, Alexander's face, pale and terrified, leaning over me. He had been following me home, just to make sure I was safe. He' d held my hand in the ambulance, his grip a lifeline, refusing to let go even when the paramedics tried to move him. He had stayed by my hospital bed for three days straight, never leaving, whispering that he couldn't live without me.

Love wasn't a constant state. It was a series of moments, of choices. He had chosen to love me then. And now, he had chosen to stop. The thought was a shard of ice in my heart.

Maria eventually managed to pour me into a cab and get me home. My home. The house Alexander and I had bought together. The moment I stepped through the door, the scent of his cologne hit me, and I felt the alcohol-fueled numbness begin to wear off, replaced by a fresh wave of grief.

He was waiting for me in the living room, his arms crossed, a thunderous expression on his face.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Out," I slurred, kicking off my heels.

"Out where? Dressed like that?" He gestured to my dress, which suddenly felt too short, too tight. "You've been drinking."

He strode towards me, grabbing my arm and pulling me against him. His touch, which used to feel like home, now felt like a cage. "You know I don't like it when you go to those places, Avery. You're my fiancée. You represent me."

"Let go of me, Alex," I said, trying to push him away.

Maria, who had been hovering in the doorway, stepped forward. "Alexander, she's had a rough night. Just let her sleep it off."

"This is between me and Avery," he snapped without looking at her. He turned his cold gaze back to me. "Tell your friend to leave."

I met Maria's worried eyes and gave her a slight nod. "It's okay, M. I can handle this." I needed to face him alone.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Alexander's grip tightened. "Are you trying to make me angry, Avery? Is that it? Because it's working."

"You want to know what's making me angry, Alex?" I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "The fact that you think you have any right to be angry at all. After you left me standing at the altar for the ninety-ninth time for her."

Before he could answer, a crash echoed from upstairs. Our bedroom.

Alexander immediately released me, his concern for me vanishing in an instant. He shoved me aside so hard I stumbled back against the wall, and took the stairs two at a time.

I followed, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. I already knew who I would find.

Kiara was sitting on the floor of our bedroom, surrounded by shattered glass. A small trickle of blood ran down her finger. She looked up at Alexander with wide, tear-filled eyes. A perfect damsel in distress.

"What are you doing in my house?" I demanded, my voice shaking with rage. "In my bedroom?"

"Avery, calm down," Alexander said, rushing to Kiara's side. "She was just released from the wellness center. She has nowhere else to go. I couldn't just leave her on the street."

He was crouched beside her now, dabbing at her finger with his handkerchief with an infuriating tenderness.

Then my eyes landed on the source of the broken glass. It was my mother's crystal music box, the last thing she gave me before she died. It lay in a thousand pieces on the hardwood floor.

The air left my lungs.

"I'm so sorry, Avery," Kiara whimpered, though her eyes held a triumphant glint. "It was an accident. I was just looking at it. I can pay for it."

Pay for it? How could she possibly pay for the memory of my mother's hands placing it in mine, her voice frail as she told me to always listen to my own music?

Something inside me snapped. I lunged forward and slapped her, the sound echoing in the silent room.

"Get out of my house!" I screamed.

Before the words were even out of my mouth, Alexander was on his feet. He grabbed me, pulling me back from Kiara with bruising force.

"Have you lost your mind?" he yelled, his face inches from mine. "She's fragile, Avery! Look at what you did! It' s always about you, isn' t it? The spoiled little princess who can't stand it when someone else gets a sliver of attention."

He dragged me out of the bedroom and into the master bathroom, his fingers digging into my arm. He shoved me under the showerhead and twisted the knob.

Ice-cold water rained down on me, drenching my hair, my dress, my skin. I gasped, the shock of it stealing my breath.

"Maybe that will cool you off," he snarled, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen directed at me before. "You need to get a grip, Avery. This childish, jealous act is getting old."

He slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving me shivering and soaked in the dark. The sound of the lock clicking into place was the sound of my last hope dying.

Through the door, I could hear him murmuring softly to Kiara, his voice laced with the concern he no longer had for me.

I sank to the cold tile floor, the water plastering my hair to my face. He had once promised to build a world for me. Now, he wouldn't even give me a world where I was safe in my own home. The cold wasn't just in the water; it was seeping into my bones, into the very core of my soul, freezing everything that was left of the girl who had loved Alexander Holt.