Golden Cage Mommy Mutiny (Elyse) novel Chapter 47

Maybe my mind shut itself down for protection, because I fell apart quickly after the wedding.

My thoughts drifted in and out, and reality felt like something I watched from far away.

Out of guilt or pity, Ethan never filed for annulment with his department. Instead, he took two

months of leave and dragged me from one specialis to another, as if sheer effort could glue a person back together.

I wouldn’t speak in therapy, and when they tried medication, I wouldn’t even open my mouth.

Eventually he forced me into ECT sessions, and the side effects hit hard, carving out pieces of my

cognitive function until I could no longer pick up a pencil to draw.

Back then, I had no intention of getting better. I had hidden a razor blade behind the bathroom

mirror months earlier and planned to use it the day my father’s sentence was finalized.

Ethan was furious when he discovered the depth of my resistance.

He pried my jaw open and forced the pills down.

“Still think you’re the pampered princess you used to be?” he snapped. “Can you stop being so impossible for once?”

I used to throw tantrums every time he gave me medicine, but he always coaxed me with the same

soft promise: “Swallow it and I’ll give you something sweet.”

This time, there was no sweetness.

The second he released my face, I spit the pills back up. Ethan’s patience collapsed, and he stared down at me from above as if I were something he regretted rescuing.

“If this is what you are now,” he said, “I shouldn’t even bother.”

“Then don’t,” I answered.

The door slammed, and he smoked through the entire night in the living room, refusing to come

inside even once.

The next morning, Kira showed up, and they shouted at each other loud enough to shake the walls. She kept saying, “Ethan, you have a future in law enforcement. She’s a criminal’s daughter–why are you still tied to her?”

There was a long, suffocating silence before Ethannally answered, his voice low.

“I took care of her for ten years. Even a stray dog–wouldn’t throw it out that easily.”

A stray dog.

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How generous of him.

Their argument dissolved into a kiss, staining the new home my father bought me with someone else’s affection.

I stumbled out of the bedroom and smashed everything within reach–including the framed wedding photo where I’d once smiled like a fool.

Ethan pulled Kira behind him the same way he used to shield me, watching coldly as I fell apart.

Kira clutched his arm and put on a trembling act.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she whispered. “She’s got a criminal’s blood–selfish, violent… absolutely

terrifying.”

The moment she mentioned my father, something inside me snapped. I grabbed a shard of glass and lunged, but Ethan kicked it from my hand before I reached them.

“You’ve used up the last bit of mercy I had for you,” he said.

The day he submitted the annulment request, my father’s final verdict came in–life without parole.

Through the thick pane of glass in the visitation room, he took one look at me and understood I

intended to die.

“Baby girl,” he said, voice breaking, “live. I’m begging you.”

My father had never begged for anything in his life.

He told me he had left a trust fund overseas to make sure I had a way out. And in that moment, I decided that if he could live with shame to protect me, then I could live with heartbreak to honor

him.

Ethan and I met one last time outside the precinct, and he offered four words on his way out: “Take

care of yourself.”

That was the end of our story.

As the car entered the tunnel, the world dimmed, lit only by the warm glow of the overhead lights. My phone lit up with a flash of white, an unknown number calling.

“Hello?” I answered.

It was Ethan.

“You left your driver’s license,” he said quietly. “Can you come out so I can return it?”

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