Chapter 4

I quickly composed myself, but in doing so, I hit the back of my head on the top of the car window again. Wincing in pain, I felt a numbness creeping into my body. As I tried to shake off the discomfort, I noticed a lush forest ahead of us.

My initial expectations of living in a primitive mountain area, with a house made of thatched bamboos and a stone table, were quickly shattered. The sight of luxurious cars outside the church earlier and my husband's own impressive vehicle made me question my preconceived notions. It seemed that my husband, Ryder Paxley, lived in a different world than I had imagined.

"Do you live in the forest?" I asked him for what felt like the hundredth time.

"It's Ryder," he reminded me, exasperated. It seemed that the only time he wanted me to use his full name was when he wanted to make a point.

"Shhhh, we're almost home," he said, speeding up the car without warning. I glared at him, annoyed by his nonchalant attitude.

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