The Fake Mute's Spectacular Revenge Game

Several hours before the household stirred, Deforest had returned. His drive back from the city had been cold and precise, the cloud hairpin a sharp weight in his pocket. He bypassed the main gates, using a service entrance known only to the groundskeepers, and entered the medical wing like a ghost. Dr. Kline, still nursing his bruised wrist and the memory of Deforest's threat, was easy to coerce into silence and cooperation. Under Deforest's icy supervision, the doctor reattached the discarded monitors and procured a fresh oxygen mask, terror ensuring his efficiency. Once the stage was set, Deforest lay back on the bed, his body still, but his mind a predator's, patiently waiting. He would play the coma patient, observe the family's machinations, and find the woman who carried the scent of vanilla.

Constance gestured sharply to the bodyguards. "Open it."

The bodyguards pushed the heavy double doors open.

The master bedroom was dim, lit only by the blinking lights of the medical equipment. The room smelled strongly of bleach and sterile cotton.

Everyone crowded into the doorway, holding their breath as they looked at the massive bed.

Deforest lay perfectly still under the covers. The oxygen mask was strapped securely over his nose and mouth. His chest rose and fell in a slow, mechanical rhythm.

The heart monitor beeped steadily. Beep. Beep. Beep. Nothing had changed.

Tierney let out a loud, triumphant sneer. "See? I told you. She's a lying, cheating whore trying to cover her tracks."

Constance's face darkened with absolute fury. She felt humiliated for believing a mute's pantomime. She turned to the bodyguards. "Throw her out. Now."

The bodyguards reached for Danielle's shoulders.

Danielle stared at the bed. She noticed the slight tension in Deforest's jaw. She noticed his hands, hidden under the blanket, were clenched into fists. He was faking it. He hated the family's control, and he was playing possum to avoid them.

Right as the bodyguard's fingers brushed her sweater, Danielle ripped herself away.

She launched herself forward like a missile. She sprinted across the room so fast no one had time to react.

She threw her entire body onto the bed. She landed hard on top of Deforest, her hands gripping his broad shoulders like a vice. She pressed her face right up against his oxygen mask, her weight fully crushing his chest.

Underneath her, Deforest felt the sudden, heavy impact. The smell of cheap hotel soap and rain assaulted his nose.

Deforest had extreme mysophobia. He violently despised being touched by anyone, let alone a stranger crushing him.

His control snapped. The veins in his forehead bulged against his skin.

His eyes flew open, burning with raw, murderous rage.

Deforest ripped his arm out from under the blanket. He struck out, his heavy forearm slamming into Danielle's chest.

He threw her off him with terrifying force.

Danielle flew backward. She crashed hard onto the thick carpet, letting out a sharp gasp as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She curled into a tight ball, clutching her ribs.

The entire room froze in absolute shock.

Deforest ripped the oxygen mask off his face and threw it at the wall. He sat up, his chest heaving, his eyes glaring at the crowd in the doorway.

Constance slapped both hands over her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. "Deforest... you're awake."

Tierney took a step back, her face pale. She stared at her brother's massive, tense muscles. He didn't look sick. He looked like a monster.

Deforest ignored his family. His furious gaze locked onto Danielle, who was shivering on the floor.

He brushed his hands aggressively over his pajama shirt, as if trying to scrub away a disease she had infected him with.

"Get this disgusting freak out of my sight," Deforest snarled, his voice vibrating with disgust.

Danielle kept her face buried in her knees, trembling violently. She played the role of the terrified, abused wife perfectly.

But hidden in the shadows of her arms, the corners of her mouth twitched. She had won. The crisis was averted.

Constance rushed to the bed, completely forgetting about the hickeys and the hotel.

The bodyguards grabbed Danielle by the arms, hauling her up from the floor, preparing to drag her away.