Bound By The Tyrant's Obsession

Cast Into The Cold

Annabelle's POV

“Goodbye, Dylan.”

The words tore from my throat, sharp as glass, but I didn't wait to see the expression on his face. I couldn't bear to look at him for another second. I spun around, grabbed the handle of my heavy travel suitcase resting by the bedroom door, and marched down the grand hallway of the mansion that had been my home for seven years.

Every step felt like walking through wet cement. My chest was tight, a suffocating weight pressing down on my lungs. Down the marble staircase, past the expensive oil paintings, past the life I had poured my entire soul into building.

I pushed through the heavy front doors and stepped out into the night.

The universe seemed to be mocking my misery. The sky had turned an apocalyptic shade of black, and the very moment the doors slammed shut behind me, the clouds broke. A torrential downpour unleashed itself, a freezing sheet of water that soaked through my thin silk blouse within seconds.

The cold hit me making me gasp. The wind howled, whipping my hair across my face as I dragged my suitcase down the long, winding driveway. The rain mixed instantly with the hot, angry tears streaming down my cheeks.

I didn't have a car. Dylan had insisted on driving me to the airport for my business trip, meaning my own vehicle was locked away in a garage I no longer had access to.

I reached the iron gates of the estate, my hands shaking so violently I could barely function.

Shivering, my teeth chattering against each other, I managed to pull my phone out of my pocket. The screen was already getting slick with rainwater. I wiped it frantically against my wet sleeve and dialed the one person I thought would always have my back.

My Aunt Marsha. She was the only family I had left after my parents died.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times until she finally answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello?” her voice finally crackled through the line, sounding distant over the roar of the storm.

“Aunt Marsha...” A sob choked my throat, and I forced it down, trying to speak clearly.

“Aunt Marsha, please help me. Dylan... he cheated on me. He’s with Clara. He forced me to sign divorce papers and kicked me out of the house. I’m on the street, it’s pouring, and I have nowhere to go. Can I please come stay with you tonight?”

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end. I held my breath, waiting for the words of comfort, waiting for her to tell me she was on her way to pick me up.

Instead, a cold, mocking chuckle echoed from the speaker.

“Honestly, Annabelle, what did you expect?” Aunt Marsha sighed, her tone dripping with utter boredom. “You’re a poor, penniless orphan who couldn't even give the man a child. For seven years, you lived like a queen on his dime. Did you really think a billionaire of Dylan’s stature would stick around with a barren woman forever? No man wants a defective wife. Don't come bringing your pathetic drama to my doorstep. Figure it out yourself.”

Click. The line went dead.

I stood frozen under the relentless rain, the phone pressed to my ear as the dial tone buzzed mockingly. The word defective sliced through my heart all over again, drawing blood.

“No,” I whispered to myself, wiping the rain from my eyes. “No, don't break down. You have a baby to think about. You aren't barren.”

My hand instinctively drifted to my lower stomach. The secret warmth growing inside me was the only thing keeping my heart beating. I couldn't go to pieces. I had to find a safe place for my child.

Desperate, I scrolled through my contacts and dialed Sarah, my closest friend from college. She had been a bridesmaid at my wedding. Surely, she would help.

“Sarah? It’s Annabelle. I’m in trouble, Dylan just—”

“Oh, Annabelle, I already heard,” Sarah interrupted, her voice sharp and filled with a strange, vindictive glee. “Clara posted a picture of them in bed on her private story ten minutes ago. Everyone is talking about it. Frankly, we’re all shocked Dylan tolerated your uselessness for this long. I’m hosting a dinner party next week and I’ve already invited Clara as his plus-one. It’s better if we don't speak anymore. I can’t be associated with a discarded outcast.” She hung up before I could even utter a word.

Panic, cold and sharp, began to claw at my throat. I tried dialing three more friends. Two went straight to voicemail and the third answered only to tell me that nobody wanted to get on Dylan’s bad side by helping his pathetic ex-wife.

High society had made its choice within minutes, and I had been completely erased.

I was now entirely, utterly alone.

My phone’s battery flashed red, warning me it was at two percent before the screen flickered and died completely.

The last lifeline was gone.

“Please, God,” I cried out into the empty storm, the rain drowning out my voice. I looked down the dark highway.

The mansion was far behind me now, sitting like a fortress on top of the hill. The road ahead was pitch black, flanked by dense trees, with the heavy downpour reducing visibility to almost nothing.

I needed to find shelter. More than that, I needed cash.

Dylan had frozen my credit cards the second I signed those papers, but I knew there was a 24-hour commercial bank about a mile down this road with an indoor ATM vestibule. If I could just make it there, I could use the last bit of money in my personal, hidden savings account to call a city cab and sleep in a cheap motel.

I gripped the handle of my luggage and began to walk. The wind pushed against me, threatening to knock me over. My shoes were soaked through, squelching with every step, and my legs felt so heavy. My body was shivering so violently that my muscles ached.

Just keep moving, I told myself, clutching my stomach with one arm while dragging the heavy bag with the other. Do it for the baby. You have to be strong for the baby.

The highway was entirely deserted. The dark asphalt glistened under the torrential rain. I stumbled along the narrow shoulder of the road, my vision blurred by a mixture of the downpour and fresh, heavy tears of betrayal.

How could Dylan do this? How could Clara look me in the eye and laugh at me like we hadn’t been by each other’s side since forever?

Suddenly, a violent cramp shot through my abdomen.

I gasped, dropping the handle of my suitcase. The pain was sharp, making me double over. “No, no, no,” I panicked, terror gripping my soul. “Please, not the baby. Don't let anything happen to my baby.”

I tried to step off the road to rest against a tree, but my wet shoe slipped on a patch of loose mud and jagged gravel at the edge of the asphalt.

I lost my balance, tumbling hard onto the slick highway. My knees slammed against the rough pavement, the skin tearing instantly. I cried out in pain, pinning myself to the ground, desperately curling my body to shield my stomach from the impact.

Before I could even attempt to push myself back up, a sudden, deep roar echoed through the howling wind.

It was the aggressive, thunderous growl of a high-powered engine.

I snapped my head around.

Cutting through the thick sheets of blinding rain were two massive, piercing high-beam headlights. A luxury car was speeding down the highway, traveling way too fast for a storm like this.

The vehicle was heading directly toward the spot where I lay trapped on the asphalt.

“Stop!” I screamed, waving my hand frantically, but the sound was swallowed by the thunder clashing above.

The brakes hissed, the tires screeching violently as the driver desperately tried to slam on the anchors. But the road was too slick. The massive black car hydroplaned, spinning out of control, its blinding lights spinning toward me.

I tried to scramble away, but my hands just slid helplessly on the wet pavement. The headlights consumed my entire universe. Then-

Bang.

The heavy metal bumper struck my side with terrifying force. The impact threw my body through the air like a ragdoll before I crashed violently onto the freezing, unyielding asphalt several feet away.

A sharp, white-hot agony exploded through my skull and ribs, stealing the very breath from my lungs. I rolled onto my back, staring up at the dark sky, the rain pelting my face, numbness rapidly spreading through my limbs.

As the darkness began to close in around the edges of my vision, a bitter, broken thought crossed my mind.

I lost everything tonight. My husband, my home, my dignity. How much worse could things possibly get?

Who knows, maybe this was for best. Maybe it’d be better if I died.