A Designer Dress From Heaven and Your Dirty Wedding Ring

x. everybody thought the truth had been caught (her reputation began to drown)

this chapter contains warnings for the following: toxic relationship, death mention, drugging, kidnapping, vomiting, physical violence, physical abuse, blood, slight self-harm, thoughts of suicide and a brief unsuccessful attempt, mental breakdown, emotional manipulation

You wake to an empty bed.

It's not uncommon, especially as of late, but something knots around your heart every time you wake up to cold sheets.

Willing yourself to get up, you head straight for the shower. With nothing planned for the day, you take full advantage of the shower, soaking up as much hot water as possible. It's a lazy day, and you take your time getting ready, picking through both sides of the closet to get dressed in a pair of leggings and one of John's sweaters before you head downstairs.

The silence hits you instantly.

Everyone must be at the club, you think, peering into the empty rooms as you make your way toward the kitchen.

It'd be the first time in a month that someone wasn't here with you; everyone seemed to be living out of the manor recently, spending more time here than at the club.

You know you should be worried or concerned, at the very least. The tension in the house has been obvious, even the calmer members of the club more on edge. Even without knowing the ins and outs of their other business, you know what it looks like to be on high alert. Something big is either about to happen or already has.

All you can hope is that everyone stays safe and this gets resolved with as little bloodshed as possible. It's easier when you remember that the 141 aren't like the people in your old life; they're careful. Cautious. They think things through before acting.

You get to the dining room, eyes focused on your phone as you swing the door open—

—and collide face-first into someone's back.

Your phone slips, and you struggle to keep your grip on it while steadying yourself.

"Sorry, I didn't see..." You look up to make amends to whoever you've crashed into, not expecting the entire club to be staring back at you.

Dressed in black from head to toe, they surround the table and the massive array of weapons and files that lay atop it, looking severe and stern and angry. Tension's replaced the air in the room, nearly suffocating you as you're flooded with the overwhelming sense that you've walked in on something you shouldn't have.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," you say quietly with a small smile. When it isn't returned, your anxiety skyrockets as your gaze travels to the head of the table where John sits more stoic than you've ever seen him. "Is...everything okay?"

Soap steps forward, a thin veil of worry cast over his stern expression, "Maybe you should—"

"We found the man who attacked you," Ghost cuts in, taking two looming steps toward you until he's standing almost directly in front of you. You pull your eyes from John to meet Ghost's eyes as he stares down at you, cold and vacant.

Flight or fight creeps up your spine as your hand tightens around your phone.

"You...found him?" you ask, keeping your voice as even as possible. "I didn't realize he was missing?"

The room lapses into silence as everyone keeps their eyes on you, obviously not entertained by your poor attempt at a joke.

"We know who he is," Ghost says as he reaches back to slide a folder from the table. He flips it open, pulling out a photo, and tossing the folder back onto the table, eyes focused on you and only you the entire time. He holds the photo out to you, nearly tossing it into your hands with a disgusted huff when you reach for it.