Chapter 2 - The Wife in the Service Kitchen
For one second, Ryan could not move.
His mind rejected the scene because it was too cruel to fit inside the house he owned.
Emily was supposed to be in the ballroom.
She should have been at the main table, laughing softly, wearing the earrings he bought her before his last business trip, letting guests discover what he already knew: that she was the quiet center of his life.
Instead, she stood in the outdoor service kitchen like staff his family had decided not to pay.
Steam clung to her face.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
Her blouse was soaked at the cuffs and collar.
The apron tied around her waist looked stiff with grease and dishwater.
She held her hands close to her body, as if embarrassed by the damage.
Ryan saw the cracks at her knuckles.
The raw redness across her palms.
The way she instinctively stepped back from Linda before she stepped toward him.
That movement did more than the pots.
More than the apron.
More than the food-stained floor.
It told him this had happened before.
Linda’s smile faltered when she saw Ryan’s expression.
Then she recovered.
“Ryan, sweetheart, you’re home early.”
He did not look at her.
He walked to Emily.
Every guest at the doorway stopped laughing.
Rachel appeared behind Linda, one hand pressed to the glass doorframe, her champagne dress glowing under the ballroom lights.
Ryan reached Emily and touched her shoulders gently.
She flinched.
Not because of him.
Because gentleness had arrived too suddenly after humiliation.
His jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumped.
He removed the wet apron from her shoulders.
Emily whispered, “Don’t.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
Her eyes filled again.
“Because they’ll say I’m making trouble.”
The room behind him went silent.
Ryan slowly took off his black suit jacket and wrapped it around her. She clutched it as if warmth itself had finally found her.
Linda’s diamonds rattled as she shifted.
“She insisted on helping.”
Ryan turned his head.
Nobody in the doorway moved.
The greasy pot in the sink gleamed under harsh light.
The velvet box remained in Ryan’s hand.
He looked from Linda to Rachel, then past them toward the guests holding champagne.
His voice lowered.
“Who turned my wife into your servant?”
May you like
No one answered.
Read Chapter 3 👉 Because Linda tried to call it helping, but Emily’s hands told Ryan the truth before anyone spoke.
