From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 78

Frederick locked her wrists in an inescapable grip, his chilling voice cutting straight into her soul. "Pack your things. We're going home."

Suffocation and rage exploded in her chest. She was done holding back. "I am never going back!"

The man suddenly closed the distance between them, his dark eyes radiating pure, lethal danger.

Terrified, she tried to back away, but there was nowhere left to go, the biting cold of the wall seeping into her spine.

Just then, the door to 1202 swung open.

Gable stared at them in utter shock. "Mr. Foster..."

One frigid glare from Frederick made Gable instantly correct herself in terror. "Sir, what brings you here?"

"Help my wife pack her belongings," Frederick ordered coldly, finally releasing Lydia and striding into the apartment.

Gable stepped aside, rushing over to support Lydia. "Ma'am, this..."

Massaging her aching wrists, Lydia glared furiously at the open front door, tempted to slam it shut, lock him inside, and run for her life.

If she could just survive tonight, tomorrow she would be free.

But the second her fingers brushed the doorknob, Frederick abruptly turned around, his piercing gaze sweeping up from the floor to lock dead onto her face.

Her pupils contracted violently.

A sudden ringtone shattered their standoff.

Pulling out her phone, she saw her mother's name flashing on the screen. She choked down her panic and fury and answered.

"Lydia, Freddie came to visit me today."

"The fact that he's willing to lower his pride shows he still cares about you. Be a good girl. Don't make me worry. Go home with him." By the end of the sentence, her mother's breathing had grown ragged, sending Lydia's heart plummeting to rock bottom.

Images of her mother's frail, sickly condition flashed in her mind. Her hand slid off the doorknob, dropping to her side. Swallowing the overwhelming helplessness and agony churning inside her, she said softly, "Mom, stop stressing over my problems. Just focus on your health."

"When you two are doing well, I'll be doing well."

She hung up and looked at Frederick, her eyes utterly devoid of life.

She walked into the apartment.

Gable started bustling around, packing up her things.

Catching the scent of gardenia rolling off Frederick, her stomach violently pitched. Nausea clawed at her throat. She spun around and bolted into the master bedroom, trying to slam the door, but a massive hand shoved it back open.

She had never been any match for his sheer strength. Forced to let go, she turned and walked out to the balcony. Sinking into the porch swing, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Taking on a defensive posture was the only way she could find a sliver of warmth.

The man walked over and sat down in the wicker chair opposite her.

Their eyes met.

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