Chapter 5
Then he remembered. The night before the wedding, holding me tight.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m marrying you tomorrow.”
A strange, suffocating pressure was building in Ryland’s chest when Daisy showed up uninvited.
Once she figured out what had him worked up, she tried to smooth things over.
*Ashley faked seven stab wounds and three bullet scars. You really think faking an abortion to get your sympathy is
beneath her?”
“Who even knows how she got those scars? Maybe they came from some other man she failed to seduce.”
She pressed closer to Ryland.
“Ry, this could all be another one of Ashley’s traps. Some men have twisted tastes. Who’s to say she didn’t…”
Ryland’s palm cracked across Daisy’s face.
Daisy yelped, her eyes instantly watering, filled with terror.
One more word, she realized, and she might not walk away from it.
But Ryland barely registered her tears.
His mind was chaos. The only thing he could think about was Ashley Linwood.
Those faded scars on my body always nagged at him.
During the rainy season, my old wounds would ache. He’d ask, and every time, I’d tell him it was from a kidnapping
when I was a child.
Ryland ordered his assistant to arrange a private flight. He left for France that same night.
On the plane, he crushed a wine glass in his fist, jaw clenched.
‘Ashley. If you’re playing me again, you’ll regret it.”
His mouth said that, but he couldn’t sit still.
What churned beneath it was fear. Raw panic.
The image of me walking into the rain, pale as death, without looking back-it kept slamming into his mind.
It sat on his chest like a slab of stone.
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His brow furrowed. He almost wished all of this was just another one of my schernes.
Because if she’d truly let go…
No. Ryland told himself that wasn’t possible. A woman whose whole world revolved around him couldn’t just walk away.
When he found her, he’d pull her into his arms and tell her everything was wiped clean.
She’d break down in grateful tears. He was sure of it.
1, however, wasn’t the type to cry that easily.
After reaching France. I didn’t linger in any city.
I went straight to a farm in Provençal in the countryside of France. I wanted to work with my hands. Live simply.
Spending my days with animals was far easier than dealing with people.
You treat them with sincerity, and they trust you without conditions.
I had no idea Ryland had already touched down in France. I went on living my quiet, contented life.
He, meanwhile, had his assistant and a team combing through every place I’d been.
Except one location. That one, Ryland went to himself. He even brought gifts.
The person he called on was my old French tutor, back from when I studied at home.
The elderly lady opened the door, and the moment she saw Ryland, she smiled.
‘I remember you. The boy Ashley was so fond of.”
Ryland asked her nothing. He just sat quietly and listened to her stories about me.
‘On the very first lesson, I asked that girl one question. Why she wanted to learn French. She told me it was for a young
man and showed me your photograph.”
“So the very first phrase I taught her…”
The old woman paused, a soft smile on her face.
“The first thing I taught Ashley to say in French was ‘I love you.”
Ryland’s nose stung. Something warm traced down his cheek.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Her voice seemed to echo in his ears.
That summer afternoon in the garden. She’d thought he was asleep.
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She leaned close and whispered it in French. I love you, Ryland.”
And just days ago, he’d ordered the French masterpieces stripped from the walls of the manor. Then he’d looked at her
with contempt and said. “I don’t like these anymore. No reason for you to, either.”
Ashley hadn’t said a word. She hadn’t stopped the movers from hauling the paintings away.
She’d just stood there, watching.
The sadness in her eyes, he’d dismissed it as another performance.
But now her tutor was praising her natural gift for French.
Telling him how brilliant her comprehension was. What a shame she’d never pursued cultural exchange work.
Chapter 5
