Chapter 9
Two days passed without a word from Thea.
Ryan kept checking the bodyguards’ earlier text:
[St. Mary’s Hospital, bed 25.]
The growing anxiety in his chest eased slightly. He could breathe again.
Ryan’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
She’d already learned her lesson. As long as Thea stopped acting out, she didn’t need to apologize.
He texted her:
[Want me to come get you?]
The message disappeared into silence.
His jaw clenched as he slammed the phone face-down on his desk.
Still being stubborn. Fine. A few more days in the hospital would cool her off.
That afternoon, Ryan drove home.
The moment he pulled into the driveway, he saw junk scattered all over the yard.
Thea’s clothes, jewelry, their matching mugs, photos together…
“BENG!”
Their wedding portrait hit the ground and shattered.
Something sharp stabbed into the softest part of Ryan’s chest. His breath caught.
“Who told you to throw this out?”
The staff exchanged nervous glances. “Miss Lyra did.”
Ryan’s face went dark as Lyra appeared in the doorway.
“Who gave you permission to throw away her things?”
“Ryan, wasn’t that what you said?” Lyra took his arm. “Dead people’s stuff brings bad luck. And I’m carrying your son-I have to be extra careful. You told me to get rid of the funeral stuff too…”
His ears rang like a bomb had gone off. He grabbed Lyra’s wrist, hard.
“Who did you say was dead?”
“Thea, she-OW!”
Ryan’s grip tightened until she cried out in pain.
“What the hell are you talking about?!”
Lyra struggled in his grip. “It’s all over the news! It’s trending on social media!”
Ryan immediately pulled up Twitter.
“Thea Mitchell Dies in Warehouse Fire” with a fire emoji stabbed into his chest like a knife.
His face went white as he clicked the hashtag.
Endless photos of the fire scene filled his screen.
He scrolled through them frantically until he was sure none showed Thea. Only then could he breathe.
“Ryan, I feel terrible about it too, but she’s gone. There’s nothing we can-”
“PA!”
Ryan’s hand cracked across Lyra’s face.
She stared at him in shock. Before she could react, he grabbed her jaw, squeezing hard enough to break bone.
“She’s fine in the hospital. Say she’s dead again and see what happens.”
Lyra started to throw her usual tantrum, but when she saw the bloodshot rage in his eyes, ice ran down her spine.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
Ryan let go. Lyra collapsed on the ground, tears in her eyes.
But Ryan didn’t even look at her as he called his bodyguard.
No answer.
He tried the other one.
Still no answer.
Ryan’s throat went dry as he pulled up their text with shaking fingers.
[St. Mary’s Hospital, bed 25.]
Clutching this lifeline, Ryan bolted for the door.
He couldn’t wait anymore. He had to find Thea now.
He didn’t care if she was being stubborn. All that mattered was seeing her safe and sound.
Lyra scrambled to her feet, trying to follow, but Ryan’s car was already tearing out of the driveway.
Her heart pounded. She’d always thought Thea was no threat-that Ryan only kept her around out of duty.
But now, for the first time, she wasn’t sure.
Lyra stared at the fire scene photos on her phone, eyes cold and vicious.
Thea was one lucky bitch to survive that.
But it was fine. Next time, she wouldn’t be so lucky.
