Chapter 4
At exactly 10:00 AM, I watched through the kitchen window as Marcus’s Mercedes pulled up earlier than expected.
My heart stopped when I saw him pause in the driveway, his head turning toward the street corner where Tony’s black SUV
sat like a patient predator.
“Shit,” I whispered, gripping my coffee mug so tightly my
knuckles went white.
Marcus exploded from his car, storming toward Tony’s vehicle
with the fury.
“You think I’m fucking stupid? I see you watching my house!” His voice carried across the perfectly manicured Greenwich
lawns.
I watched Tony calmly drive away, leaving Marcus standing there like an idiot, fists clenched at his sides.
Marcus burst through the front door like a hurricane, his leather shoes clicking ominously against the marble foyer.
Sarah! Get down here now!”
I found him in our bedroom, tearing through my dresser
drawers like a man possessed.
“Looking for something, darling?” I kept my voice steady.
He spun around, Katherine’s business card crushed in his fist. ”
What the hell is this, you conniving bitch?”
I replied, “A lawyer, Marcus.”
Marcus’s face flushed that dangerous shade of red I’d learned to fear.
He grabbed my iPhone from the nightstand, scrolling through my call history with shaking fingers. “Katherine & Associates… called seven times this week. You’ve been planning this!”
I said, “Planning what? Getting legal advice? That’s my right.”
“Your right?” He stepped closer. “You’re my fucking wife! You don’t do anything without my permission!”
Something inside me snapped. Maybe it was the surveillance equipment recording everything, or maybe it was finally having proof of his thievery. Either way, I was done pretending.
I responded, “I know about Victoria. I know about the money. I
know everything.”
Marcus’s eyes went dead–that flat, emotionless stare that meant someone was about to get hurt.
He shouted, “You know nothing! And you’re gonna forget everything, or I’ll make you forget!”
What happened next will be burned into my memory forever.
Marcus grabbed a forty–pound dumbbell, holding it above his head like he was about to crush my skull.
The weight looked massive in his hands, and I could see my death reflected in the mirrored walls surrounding us.
He said, “You want to play games, Sarah? I’ll show you what happens to wives who betray their husbands!”
I tried to run, but he was faster. His hands found my throat with practiced precision, cutting off my air supply with terrifying efficiency. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision as he
squeezed.
I pleaded, “Marcus… please… Ethan… needs…”
Yet Marcus cut me off, “Ethan will be better off without a scheming mother! I’ll raise him right!”
The room started spinning. I clawed at his hands, my designer
manicure breaking against his skin.
Through the fog of oxygen deprivation, I managed to gasp: “You.
monster… he’ll… know… truth…”
Marcus responded, “The truth? The truth is you killed yourself because you’re a pathetic, dying loser! Nobody will miss a dying bitch anyway! I’ll tell them you couldn’t handle the cancer!”
That’s when I felt my Apple Watch vibrate against my wrist. The device had detected my elevated heart rate, the violent motion patterns, my distress. Emergency SOS activated automatically, sending my GPS coordinates to Katherine, Tony, and 911.
“Emergency services have been contacted. Your location has been shared,” the watch announced in its calm, electronic voice.
Marcus froze. “What the fuck is that thing doing?”
I stammered, “Too… late… Marcus… everything… recorded…”
Marcus shouted, “You fucking bitch! You planned this!”
Then I heard the sound that probably saved my life: “Daddy,
stop! You’re hurting mommy! Stop it!”
“Leave my mommy alone! She’s sick and you’re hurting her!”
Marcus finally released my throat, turning his rage toward our son. “Get away from her, you little shit! This is none of your
business!”
But Ethan–brave, wonderful Ethan–stepped between us, his
young face fierce with protective fury. “She’s MY mommy! I
won’t let you kill her!”
“Don’t… touch… him… Marcus… he’s… just… a child…” My voice
was barely a whisper, my throat feeling like it had been crushed.
But somehow, Ethan heard me.
He knelt beside me, his small hands gentle on my face. “Mommy!
11
The sirens started wailing. Red and blue lights flashed through
the basement windows as Greenwich Police surrounded our
house.
“Sir, step away from your wife immediately! Hands where I can
see them!”
Marcus tried to run, actually tried to escape through the
basement’s back exit. But there were officers everywhere, and
his expensive loafers couldn’t outrun police boots.
He said, “This is a misunderstanding! She’s crazy! She has
cancer, she’s not thinking straight!”
The EMT who knelt beside me was young, maybe twenty–five,
with gentle hands and kind eyes. “Ma’am, we need to get you to
the hospital. You have severe bruising on your neck.”
Tony appeared at my side, his gruff face creased with concern. Mrs. Whitmore, are you okay? We have everything recorded.”
Everything. The Apple Watch had captured Marcus’s threats, his confession about making my death look like suicide, his complete and utter destruction of any sympathy I might have
felt for him.
“He tried to kill me,” I told the police officer, my voice hoarse but clear. “Threatened to make it look like suicide. My son saved
my life.”
Ethan’s small voice piped up: “My daddy was choking my
mommy!”
Later, I lay in a hospital bed at Greenwich Hospital, a protective collar around my bruised throat.
Katherine sat beside me. “Sarah, we have everything. Audio,
video, medical records, witness testimony from Ethan.”
I asked, “Is it enough to put him away?”
Katherine replied, “With attempted murder charges? He’s looking at fifteen to twenty years minimum.”
I stared at my reflection in the hospital room’s mirror. My neck
was purple and black, my eyes bloodshot, my hair a mess. I looked like exactly what I was–a woman who had almost been murdered by her husband.
I continued, “That’s not enough, Katherine. Prison is too good
for him.”
Katherine asked, “What do you mean?”
I replied, “I want him destroyed. Financially, socially,
completely. I want him to lose everything he thinks he’s entitled
to.”