Celeste hit the ground hard, the impact knocking a cry from her lips. A collective gasp rippled through the yard, the mad heir's sudden outburst catching everyone off guard.
"Master Aiden!" Harlow called, eyes wide as he watched his master begin to act strangely. Aiden's head jerked violently as he wiped at his nose, like he had inhaled something wrong.
Celeste remained on the ground, dazed from the fall. One moment, things had been a bit weird... but manageable. The next she was on the ground, feeling a sharp sting shooting through her elbow.
What had changed in the span of a few seconds? Had she said something wrong?
Still lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the way Aiden now stared at her like something he needed to tear apart. He let out a low, animalistic growl, snapping her back to reality. But it was too late.
He lunged.
Celeste froze, shock rooting her in place. His eyes were empty now, void of any trace of sanity. No one could reason with him. How could they possibly reason with a mad man?
If she had doubted his madness before, she was wrong. There was nothing sane in him.
Fear crawled down her spine.
What had she gotten herself into? She only wanted a divorce, and now this? Her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for the impact. For the sharp pain of his teeth tearing into her skin, for his nails digging into her flesh.
But it never came.
Her lashes fluttered open, and through her blurred vision, she saw the guards had reached him in time. They held him back, restraining him before he could get to her.
Celeste's eyes glistened with unshed tears. What was happening? This wasn't the man she had met last night. This was a monster... a beast. Despite the strength of the men holding him, Aiden fought against them like a wild beast, his movements violent and unrestrained.
Margaret rushed to Celeste's side. "Oh dear, are you alright? No—of course you aren't, you fell so hard." Her face twisted with concern. "I warned you, didn't I? He can get worked up. Oh, child— you're bleeding."
Celeste tried to focus on the woman whose voice was filled with worry, but she couldn't. Her mind was elsewhere—on him. The shock of watching the mad heir nearly bounce on her hadn't yet worn off.
"Let's get you out of here, child," Margaret said, glancing over her shoulder. "Clarke!"
Clarke hurried to her side, helping her mistress lift Celeste to her feet.
"Take her inside to rest," Margaret instructed, before turning her attention to Aiden, who still struggled against the guards. "I'll handle him."
There was hesitation on Clarke's face and also helplessness. She knew exactly what her mistress meant by handle. They would beat up him until he couldn't move. They always did. And just like every other time, there was nothing she could do about it. With a quiet sigh, she turned away, guiding her master's new wife back inside.
As Celeste was being led away, she couldn't help but glance back. The mad heir was being whipped now, with the same whips she had seen earlier. The ones that had made her shiver just looking at them. For a moment, she couldn't help but feel pity for him. He was a person like any of them and yet, he was being treated like an animal. The sight made her stomach turn, and she quickly looked away.
By the time they returned to the penthouse, the place was eerily quiet, as everyone was outside, occupied with taming her husband. Celeste was led back to her room, when they reached the door she noticed Clarke lingering, her uneasiness obvious. Celeste misread it as guilt finally catching up to her for tricking her into the mad heir's room. If the woman couldn't bring herself to say it, then she would.
"If you're planning to apologize for tricking me into his room," Celeste said coldly, "then it's a bit too late for that."
Clarke stared at her new mistress, puzzled. But Celeste took her silence as a chance to pour out her heart along with the anger and frustration she felt.
"I let it go earlier when I spoke to Mrs. Blackwell, because I thought it wouldn't matter once I got a divorce. But seeing you like this... I can't help but bring it up. Did it ever occur to you how I survived the night? How could you leave me alone with your master knowing fully well how quick he could lose his mind?"
"Did Master Aiden come into the room last night?" Clarke asked, instead of answering. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"
Celeste cleared her throat, looking away. There was no way she could tell the housekeeper what had really happened. That he had entered and touched her in places he shouldn't. He hadn't hurt her, yes. But he had done something else she couldn't share with anyone.
"He didn't hurt me," she said, avoiding Clarke's eyes. "But he might as well have. What if he'd suddenly gone mad like he did just now? How could you all be so cruel to leave me in his room of all places? If your mistress finds out about this, you will all be in trouble."
Clarke's gaze slowly dropped to the floor, to Celeste, it looked like guilt finally settling in. With nothing left to say, she turned to leave, but Clarke's voice stopped her.
"Our mistress already knows."
Celeste froze mid-step.
Then she turned back slowly, her brows knitting together in confusion.
"What?"