The two bodyguards shoved Danielle through the massive front doors of the Stuart manor.
Danielle stumbled forward. Her sneakers caught on the edge of the marble step, and she crashed hard onto her knees on the cold, polished floor. Pain shot up her legs, but she kept her head down, her shoulders shaking violently.
Constance Stuart, the matriarch of the family, sat on a velvet sofa in the center of the grand hall. She held a porcelain teacup, her posture rigid and aristocratic.
Tierney marched past Danielle, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. "Grandmother, look at what the Roy family sent us. She spent her wedding night in a hotel with a disgusting old man."
Constance slowly lowered her teacup. Her cold, gray eyes locked onto Danielle.
Tierney leaned down and violently ripped the collar of Danielle's sweater sideways.
Under the harsh, bright light of the crystal chandelier, the dark, angry hickeys on Danielle's neck and collarbone were fully exposed.
The maids and butlers standing around the perimeter of the hall gasped, exchanging shocked whispers.
Constance's face turned purple with rage. Her hands gripped the armrests of the sofa. "The Roy family sent us a shameless tramp," she spat. "She has violated the morality clause of the prenuptial agreement. Throw her out into the street immediately."
Danielle kept her head bowed. She bit her lower lip, letting her tears fall onto the marble floor. But beneath the curtain of her hair, her brain was running complex calculations. She needed to stay in this house.
The two bodyguards stepped forward, grabbing her arms to drag her out.
Danielle suddenly exploded into motion. She let out a raw, guttural wail from the back of her throat. She thrashed wildly, twisting her body with surprising strength.
She broke free from their grip and scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees. She threw her arms around the base of a massive marble pillar near the hallway leading to the medical wing. She locked her fingers together, refusing to let go.
"Grab that lunatic!" Tierney shrieked.
Danielle clung to the pillar. She raised one trembling hand and pointed frantically down the hallway toward the medical wing.
Constance frowned, her anger momentarily replaced by confusion. "What is the mute trying to say?"
Danielle, seeing they didn't understand, let out a frantic, silent scream. She lunged forward, her fingers desperately grabbing the hem of Constance's expensive skirt. She dipped her trembling fingers into the tears streaming down her own cheeks and frantically drew the shape of a massive bed on the polished marble floor. She pointed at the drawing, then raised her hands above her head, mimicking a very tall, broad-shouldered man. Then, she pointed violently at the hickeys on her own neck, and pointed back to the medical wing.
The entire grand hall fell dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
Tierney let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Are you insane? Are you trying to blame this on my brother? He's in a coma!"
Danielle shook her head violently. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. She pointed at the medical wing again, her finger jabbing the air.
Constance's heart skipped a beat. A wild, impossible thought crossed her mind. What if Deforest had woken up?
Constance stood up so fast her teacup rattled. "Bring her," she ordered, her voice trembling slightly. She walked quickly toward the medical wing.
The bodyguards peeled Danielle off the pillar. They dragged her by the arms, following Constance and Tierney down the long corridor.
Danielle let her feet drag on the carpet. She kept her head down, but a cold, calculated gleam flashed in her eyes. Step one was complete.
They stopped in front of the heavy wooden doors of the master bedroom. The truth was waiting inside.
