Shattered Vows: The Wife's Bloody Escape

Morning sunlight sliced through the broken slats of the motel blinds, hitting Daisy right in the eyes.

She woke up with a start. Her body ached from sleeping in her damp clothes on the terrible mattress.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand. The screen was littered with notifications. Thirty missed calls from Emmett. Fifteen from Kelton.

Daisy's expression hardened into stone. She opened her settings, selected both numbers, and hit 'Block'.

She didn't stop there. She popped the SIM card tray open with an earring, pulled the tiny chip out, and walked into the bathroom. She dropped it into the toilet and pressed the flush handle.

She splashed cold water on her face, ignoring the dark circles under her eyes. She walked out of the motel and found a corner bodega.

She used her last five dollars to buy a cheap, prepaid burner phone.

Miles away, in the penthouse office of the Reese Group on Wall Street.

Emmett stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at the city. The cut on his lower lip had scabbed over, making him look feral and dangerous.

The heavy oak door opened. Kelton walked in, his face pale.

"Sir," Kelton said nervously. "We found the Porsche. It was abandoned on Fifth Avenue. The NYPD was already preparing to tow it, but we pulled some strings with the precinct captain and intercepted the vehicle. No signs of a struggle."

Emmett spun around. The expensive fountain pen in his hand snapped in half with a loud crack. Black ink splattered across his knuckles and dripped onto the carpet.

"Pull the street cameras," Emmett ordered, his voice a lethal growl.

Kelton swallowed hard. "We did. She took a cab. The signal from her phone died somewhere in Queens. It's completely untraceable now."

Emmett's jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. He didn't believe it. Daisy was terrified of the dark. She liked high thread-count sheets and room service. She couldn't survive out there.

This was a tantrum. She was trying to punish him.

"Call every hotel, every bank," Emmett commanded coldly. "No one gives her a room. No one extends her a line of credit. Put the word out to her friends. Anyone who helps her is making an enemy of me."

Kelton hesitated. "Sir, if she has no money and no shelter..."

Emmett shot him a look so freezing Kelton snapped his mouth shut.

Emmett walked to his desk. He opened the top drawer and stared at the velvet box holding the pink diamond necklace. He slammed the drawer shut. She would come back. The cold and hunger would force her back to him by tonight.

Daisy sat on a chipped wooden bench in a public park. She used the burner phone to call a pro-bono legal clinic. She booked a free consultation with a divorce attorney.

She hung up. Across the street, a massive digital billboard played a morning talk show.

Eryn Cannon's face filled the screen. She was dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "...and I'm just so grateful to have someone so important standing by my side as the anniversary of my mother's passing approaches tomorrow."

Daisy stared at the screen. Tomorrow was Eryn's mother's memorial service. Emmett would absolutely be there.

A reckless, burning plan formed in her mind.

She stood up. She walked into a nearby thrift store. She took off her diamond wedding band-the only piece of jewelry she hadn't left behind-and traded it to the pawn counter in the back for two hundred dollars in cash and a conservative black suit.

She returned to the motel. She sat at the wobbly desk, pulled out a piece of cheap motel stationery, and grabbed a pen.

She began to write a crude, legally binding divorce agreement.

When she finished, she pressed the pen down hard, signing her name at the bottom. The ink bled through the cheap paper.

She stared at the document. Her eyes were completely dry. Tomorrow, she was going to burn his reputation to the ground.