Chapter 4

Aria dropped every trace of the softness she'd just shown, hurling a verbal dagger at me the second she saw me.

"Why the hell are you back so soon?"

Julian immediately broke into a fit of violent coughing.

It looked like he was trying to break the tension of her inappropriate outburst, but it looked a lot more like he was choking back a laugh.

I offered a practiced, polite smile, tossing a garment bag toward Aria.

"Just dropped by. Go change your clothes, would you? You're coming with me to see my mom."

Julian startled, and Aria froze for a fraction of a second, but she quickly went back to barking at me:

"Who do you think you're talking to—"

Her voice cut off.

Ignoring her tantrum, I turned and headed upstairs to pack up a few keepsakes my mom treasured.

I wanted to bring them to the hospital to bring a little joy to her day.

And I wanted Aria to fulfill her final duty as a daughter-in-law, just to give my mom some peace of mind.

Once I had everything packed, I carried the items downstairs. As expected, Aria wasn't wearing the sweater my mom had knit.

Instead...

Julian was standing there, wearing something that didn't belong to him.

In that split second, I felt my heart plummet straight through the floor.

Crossing the room in three strides, I threw a punch straight into Julian's face.

Then another. And another...

"Are you insane?!"

Panicking, Aria lunged forward, clawing and hitting my back.

In the chaos, a cold sting sliced across my cheek. I reached up and felt wet blood on my fingers.

Aria froze, glancing down at the ring on her hand.

It wasn't the ring I had bought her.

A quiet laugh escaped my lips, growing louder and more unhinged by the second.

I had originally planned to use that video or the divorce papers to force her compliance if she refused to visit my mom.

At this point, clinging to her would just be pathetic.

And yet...

"Have you lost your damn mind, Henry?! It's just a sweater! What gives you the right to act like a rabid dog and attack him?!"

Aria screamed at me, the exact same vicious woman she'd always been.

I suddenly wondered what had been wrong with me all these years.

Did I have some kind of humiliation kink?

I didn't answer. I just quietly stared at the sweater Julian was wearing.

Julian immediately put on a sanctimonious act: "I'll take it off right now..."

"Don't bother." I waved a hand, reaching into my pocket for my lighter.

I muttered, "Keep it on."

The next second, I flicked the flame and touched it to the hem of the sweater. The knit fabric caught fire instantly.

Aria shrieked, cussing me out at the top of her lungs. Julian struggled frantically to pull the flaming sweater over his head, burning his hands in the process before finally ripping it off, his lower back and waist blistered and bright red.

Eyes overflowing with frantic concern, Aria sprinted to the kitchen for an ice pack, pressing it to his burns while screaming bloody murder at me:

"You are a certified lunatic! Throwing a violent tantrum over some trashy sweater! How can a grown man be this petty?!"

"Why can't you be more like Julian?! You beat the hell out of him and he didn't even fight back, and you have the nerve to—"

Her voice died in her throat.

I had bent down, picked up the other sweater—the one meant for Aria—and touched it to the smoldering pile on the floor.

Aria gasped, her voice cracking:

"What... what are you doing?"