Chapter 4A Young Heart White as Frost

Yates stood in the doorway, having arrived just in time to see Yvette slap Claire.

His face darkened, and he stormed into the room, shoving Yvette aside with such force that she stumbled backward. Still terribly weak, she couldn't keep her balance. Her back slammed against the cold wall, drawing a muffled cry of pain from her throat.

"Yvette Chandler! What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, shielding Claire behind him. The look in his eyes was so vicious that he seemed ready to tear Yvette apart.

Claire immediately nestled against his chest, tears streaming down her face as she twisted the truth.

"Yates... please don't blame Mrs. Prescott. It's my fault... I shouldn't have come..."

The sight of the distinct handprint on Claire's cheek broke Yates's heart. When he turned back to Yvette, his anger had only intensified.

"Yvette, I never imagined you could be this cruel! Claire came here out of kindness, and you actually hit her?"

Furious, he turned toward the bodyguards stationed outside the room and issued a cold command.

"Get in here and slap her. Slap her one hundred times! I want her to pay tenfold for what she did to Claire!"

"No, Yates!" Claire protested, pretending to intervene. "Mrs. Prescott just had a miscarriage. She's still too weak. She won't be able to take it..."

Yates pulled her tightly against him, his voice filled with tenderness and anger.

"You're too kind for your own good! That's why she keeps bullying you! She needs to be taught a lesson. Do it!"

At his command, the bodyguards approached Yvette, their towering figures casting dark shadows over her.

She stared at the man she'd loved for nine years, utterly stunned. He was holding another woman so carefully, protecting her with such tenderness, yet for that same woman's sake, he could treat Yvette with unimaginable cruelty.

He used to protect her like that, too.

Just as the bodyguard was about to strike, Yvette summoned the last of her strength and cried out, her voice hoarse with all the pain and resentment she'd been holding inside.

"Yates Prescott! Do you remember what you said when you knelt before my parents' graves? You promised you'd always protect me! You swore you'd never let anyone hurt me or make me suffer! You said I meant more to you than life itself! Have you forgotten all of that?"

Yates went rigid, his arm tightening slightly around Claire.

For a moment, something seemed to stir violently in his eyes, but whatever he felt was quickly overshadowed by his concern for Claire. When he turned back to Yvette, his gaze was cold and weary, carrying an unmistakable sense of finality.

"I remember." He paused, and his next words struck Yvette like a series of hammer blows. "Yvette, I meant it when I said I loved you. And I mean it now when I say I don't love you anymore.

"Claire is the woman I love most now. You hurt her, and you're going to pay for it!"

With that, he drew Claire protectively into his arms and led her out of the hospital room, ignoring the hollow despair in Yvette's eyes.

The heavy door closed behind them, shutting Yates out of her sight and extinguishing the last glimmer of light in Yvette's life.

Slap!

The first blow landed hard across her face, leaving her cheek burning. Then came the second, the third, and countless more.

Yvette neither struggled nor demanded answers. Like a broken doll, she simply endured the humiliating punishment.

One hundred slaps.

By the time it was over, the love she'd carried for nine years lay in ruins, along with every hope she'd clung to and the last of her faith in love.

Yvette collapsed onto the floor and suddenly coughed up a mouthful of dark red blood. Staring at the bright, sickening stain, she began to laugh softly, the sound bitter and desolate.

Oh, Yates Prescott.

May every ounce of love you betrayed turn to broken glass and tear you apart from the inside.