Part 3His Muse Killed My Daughter

Scarlett screamed, clutching her bleeding forehead as she collapsed onto the hardwood floor.

My eyes were wild with rage. Just as I raised my hands to strike her again, Greg threw his arms around me from behind, pinning me back.

"Meredith! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!" he roared.

I didn't even look at him. My whole body shook as I stared down at Scarlett. "You took Lucy to a seafood restaurant?" I demanded, my voice cracking.

Scarlett looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, playing the perfect victim. "Meredith, I was just trying to build a relationship with her. Greg told me she loved seafood, so I took her. I didn't mean any harm!"

I whipped my head around to face Greg. "You knew about this?"

He grimaced, waving a hand dismissively. "It was just a dinner. Are you seriously going to ruin a friendship over a petty fit of jealousy?"

The world seemed to fracture around me.

"A petty fit of jealousy."

I had gone to London to attend a dear friend's funeral. Before I stepped foot out the door, I had looked him in the eye and begged him, reminding him that Lucy had a deadly allergy to shellfish.

Greg had nodded and promised, his tone lazy and distracted.

At the time, I convinced myself that even if he didn't care about me, Lucy was his own flesh and blood. He wouldn't let anything happen to her.

It was only three days. I wanted them to have some father-daughter bonding time since he was always so absent.

But still, I hadn't been fully at ease. I had written a bright neon reminder on a sticky note and slapped it right onto the refrigerator door.

Driven by a sudden, frantic panic, I violently broke free from Greg's grip and ran into the kitchen.

The sink was piled high with dirty takeout containers and dusty dishes. The cutting board on the counter was covered in a thin layer of grime. It was obvious the kitchen hadn't been used since the day I left.

And on the refrigerator door, the neon sticky note was completely gone.

My mind went entirely blank. I clutched my head and sank to the floor.

Greg marched into the kitchen, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me up so hard I nearly tripped. "Meredith, what is wrong with you? You assault Scarlett and then just walk away?"

Scarlett limped in behind him, whimpering loudly. "Greg, my head is throbbing. I have to walk a red carpet tomorrow! How am I supposed to go out looking like this?"

Greg’s fury boiled over. His grip on my upper arm tightened until I felt my bones groan under the pressure.

"You are going to apologize to Scarlett right now, or so help me God, you will regret it!"

I looked at him, my expression going entirely blank, a cold smile touching my lips.

"I have nothing to apologize for. She does."

Greg’s face darkened dangerously. "Meredith, do not test my patience."

In his mind, Greg had forgotten who I actually was. I was a woman of fierce pride and stubborn resolve. When I first started in the industry, I fought tooth and nail for every role, and when I chose to retire for love, I did it without a single backward glance.

I had loved him fiercely, unconditionally.

We had both climbed up from the bottom of the industry, sharing the laughter, the tears, and the exhausting grind.

But by the time I hit thirty, the daily routine of serving him, of keeping his house, had slowly eroded my sense of self. I had shrunk myself to fit into his shadow, making compromises just to keep him happy.

I had sacrificed so much that I lost who I was, and he had learned to take it all for granted.

But that woman was dead now.

I stared directly into Greg's eyes, silent and unyielding.

His jaw clenched.

Seeing the stand-off, Scarlett stepped in, wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing dramatically. "Greg, I have never been so insulted in my life! If you're just going to let her treat me like this, then we are done. I never want to see you again!"

Greg looked at her tears, then turned back to me.

A dark, dangerous storm brewed in his eyes.

"Meredith, I am giving you one last chance. Apologize to Scarlett."

His voice was a low, freezing threat.

I looked at this man. The man I had loved for ten years, the man I had given my youth and my soul to.

Tears finally blurred my vision. I began to laugh, a broken, hysterical sound. "Greg, marrying you is the single greatest regret of my entire life."

My refusal to submit pushed him over the edge.

With Scarlett's weeping ringing in his ears, Greg lost his mind. He grabbed me by the throat, pinning me against the wall, and delivered two hard, stinging slaps across my face.

He didn't hold back.

My head spun instantly. A loud, high-pitched ringing filled my ears, drowning out all sound.

He grabbed me by the hair, forcing my face toward the vanity mirror in the hallway.

My cheeks were already swelling, bright red handprints blooming against my pale skin. A thin trickle of blood dripped from the corner of my mouth. I looked absolutely broken.

Greg’s voice hissed in my ear like a poisonous snake.

"Look at yourself, Meredith. Look at how ugly and malicious you've become. Striking Scarlett... this is exactly what you deserve."

"Apologize! Or I swear to God, you will no longer be my wife!"