The silence in the foyer was a living thing, thick and suffocating. It was broken only by the sound of three people breathing.
Avery held the kiss for three, four, five seconds-an eternity. Long enough to be sure Brodie's attention was fully, irrevocably captured.
She pulled back slowly, her lips parting from Joshua's. Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged. She didn't dare look at Brodie. Instead, she let her head fall against Joshua's chest, completing the performance of a flustered, passionate fiancée.
Joshua's body was ramrod straight, his mind reeling. He stared down at the top of her head, the scent of her hair, the feeling of her lips still burning on his.
Brodie's chest was heaving. His eyes were fixed on Avery, a look of such raw, violent intensity that it felt like a physical touch.
He didn't say a word.
He just turned, his movements stiff and jerky, and strode toward the front door. Eleanor Finch, the housekeeper, moved as if to intercept him, but froze in place under the sheer murderous force of his glare. He swept past her without a word of apology and burst out into the evening air.
Avery and Joshua were left standing in the wake of his silent fury.
A few seconds later, the sound of the Aston Martin's engine roared to life, a guttural snarl of pure rage. The squeal of tires on gravel was a high-pitched scream.
Joshua frowned, moving to the door to look outside.
He saw Brodie's car not reversing, but lurching forward onto the immaculate lawn. The engine screamed as he slammed on the accelerator, the rear wheels spinning wildly, tearing deep, muddy trenches into the perfect green turf.
"Is he insane?" Joshua muttered.
Avery crept up behind him, peering through the crack of the open door, her heart lodged in her throat.
The car didn't crash. It performed a brutal, deliberate act of vandalism. The smell of burning rubber and churned earth filled the air. It was a scar, a violent message carved into the face of their ancestral home.
Brodie wasn't out of control; he was demonstrating a terrifying level of it. His brother, for all his faults, was an exceptional driver. He would never make a mistake. This was a declaration of war.
Avery's face was ashen. She knew. She knew better than anyone. This was her fault. That kiss had been the match to his dynamite.
Brodie didn't get out to inspect the damage. The car sat there for a moment, idling menacingly.
Then, with another roar, he threw it into gear and sped away, fishtailing down the long driveway and disappearing into the night.
The driveway was pristine, but the lawn was a battlefield, a testament to his rage.
Joshua stared after him, a deep, confused frown creasing his brow. He couldn't understand it. The reaction was too extreme. Too violent. All for a fiancée he didn't approve of? It didn't add up.
Avery leaned against the doorframe, her legs trembling so badly she could barely stand.
She knew this wasn't the end. It was just the beginning.
