Chapter 4

Summer's POV

Ethan brought me back to the estate that night.

A private doctor treated the scratches on my neck and face.

Once the door was locked, I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling until dawn.

The next afternoon, hearing Ethan's footsteps downstairs, I slowly dragged myself out of bed.

I messed up my hair, tore at the collar of my pajamas to expose the fresh bandages on my shoulder, and made myself look as utterly broken as possible.

Only then did I walk downstairs, bare feet padding softly on the stairs, mimicking a sleepwalker.

Ethan was sitting on the living room sofa.

As I reached the landing, I heard Chloe's soft, whimpering voice.

"Ethan, I don't blame Summer. She's sick. It's not her fault she hit me."

Chloe sat on the sofa, holding an ice pack to her swollen cheek. "I'm just worried that if she stays like this, it'll delay the progress on the West District Theater..."

Ethan poured her a glass of warm water, his tone dripping with sympathy. "You're too soft-hearted."

I took that cue to walk down the last few steps, my eyes vacant, my hair a wild mess.

Seeing me, Chloe instinctively shrunk back behind Ethan.

Then, she stood up with the glass of hot water and walked toward me. "Summer, you're awake? Here, have some water."

Just as I reached out, Chloe's wrist violently jerked. The boiling water splashed directly onto the raw, freshly scabbed wounds on my knees.

"Ah!"

Chloe stumbled back, looking horrified. "I'm so sorry! My foot slipped... I didn't mean to."

As she retreated, the sharp heel of her stiletto came down hard on my right hand, pinning it to the floor. She pressed directly onto the cracked, broken fingernail.

A blinding white pain shot up my arm. I clamped my jaw shut, my entire body violently trembling.

Ethan rushed over. He didn't check on me. Instead, he guided a trembling Chloe back to the sofa before turning to me.

He grabbed my bleeding hand, pulling me up. He didn't call for a doctor. Instead, he locked his fingers around my shoulders and dragged me to my feet.

His touch was still gentle, but his grip was like iron, locking me in place.

"Summer, what you did at the gala yesterday was wrong. You hurt Chloe. Good girls don't do that."

Ethan smiled, using his thumb to wipe away the tears of pain spilling from my eyes. His gentle voice made my stomach turn.

"When we do something wrong, we have to apologize. Apologize to Chloe."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "You want me to apologize to her?"

"Just say you're sorry, and we can put this behind us."

"No!" I rasped.

Ethan's face darkened. He forced his weight down on my shoulders, slowly pushing my body down toward the sofa where Chloe sat.

His massive palms held me in a vice grip, forcing my knees to slam onto the cold hardwood floor.

The scabs on my knees split wide open. The pain made my vision go black.

Suffocating under the humiliation, I dug my nails into my bleeding palm. I forced my head down, grit my teeth, and whispered, "I'm... sorry..."

Only then did Ethan let go.

He used a silk handkerchief to wipe the blood from his hands, then picked up a yellow hard hat from the table and handed it to me. His voice was warm again.

"Since you've apologized, I need you to do something for me. Go to the West District Theater and get the acoustic readings."

I stared blankly at the yellow hard hat before reaching out to take it.

As long as Chloe needed it, Ethan wouldn't hesitate to squeeze every last drop of value out of me.

Because everyone knew that only my ears could detect the most precise acoustic frequencies.

Twenty minutes later, at the West District Theater construction site.

The empty, concrete shell of the building was freezing. The wind howled through the open window frames.

The moment I stepped into the subterranean acoustic testing room, the heavy steel door behind me slammed shut. The sound of a deadbolt sliding into place echoed through the chamber.

I spun around. Through the double-paned acoustic glass, I saw Chloe standing on the other side.

She held the control cables in her hand, a twisted, vicious grin on her face.

"Summer, that slap from yesterday? It's time to pay it back."

In the center of the testing room stood a massive high-frequency decibel transmitter.

Chloe laughed coldly as she slammed her palm onto the console, twisting the frequency dial all the way into the red zone.

SCREECH.

A piercing, high-frequency wail exploded inside the sealed concrete room.

The sound felt like a white-hot iron needle driving straight through my ear canal and piercing my brain.

I collapsed to the floor, clutching my ears as cold sweat drenched my back.

The sound was everywhere, bouncing off the concrete walls, vibrating through my skull, literally tearing at my eardrums.

Warm, sticky fluid began to seep through my fingers.

Blood splattered onto the cold concrete.

As the world around me dissolved into a terrifying, silent void, my vision darkened, and I passed out.

When I finally opened my eyes, the smell of sterile bleach filled my nose.

I lay motionless on the hospital bed, staring blankly.

The door clicked open, then locked from the inside.

A man in a sharp grey overcoat walked over to the bed.

He had incredibly dark, deep eyes. It was Christian, Ethan's ultimate rival in the business world.

He bent down, looking at me. "Stop acting. I know you're not entirely deaf, and I know you're not crazy."

I didn't move. I didn't even blink.

Christian let out a low chuckle. "Don't be scared. Your dear husband ruined your father for a mistress. You want survival, and I want power. We share the same enemy."

He leaned in close to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I can fix your ears. I can get you out of the country safely, and I can even stage a fake death for you."

"The price? Give me the evidence that Ethan stole your father's designs."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. I had already lost everything. I was on the verge of losing my hearing entirely.

There was nothing left to fear.

"Deal," I rasped, my throat raw.