The servants are quick and beat Avery with their hands and feet. She's outnumbered and weak from the aphrodisiac and the cold bath, so she lets them take her. They drag her through the house and into Mrs. Florence Howel's sitting room. Someone pushes her from behind and she falls to her knees at Mrs. Howel's feet. The tastefully patterned wool carpet rubs against her bare legs.

She turns around and glares ferociously at Maureen Fletcher. Over the years, Mrs. Florence Howel has disciplined Avery many times. Indifferent, Evan always turned a blind eye to his grandmother's beatings. Mrs. Howel's housekeeper, Maureen, has always been more than eager to help with Avery's punishments.

"Mrs. Howel, Miss Summer, Avery is here," Maureen announces.

"Get the whip," Florence Howel orders.

The tightly tied ropes around her arms and legs prevent Avery from breaking free. Defeated, she stops struggling and kneels on the floor.

"I had no idea you liked me so much, Mrs. Howel," she sasses, "You just saw me this morning, but you missed me so much you wanted to see me again."

"Miss you? Don't be ridiculous," Florence Howel scoffs, "Don't you dare think that I can't discipline you just because Evan has suddenly gone soft."

Mrs. Florence Howel rises and begins to pace the room. Leonie hurries to follow her, sneaking gloating looks at Avery.

"Avery, apologize before Granny gets serious. She may show you some leniency that way."

"Apologize?" Avery sneers, "I'm not the one who should be punished for what happened last night and this morning."

Mrs. Howel takes the whip offered to her by Maureen.

"You think you're here because of this morning?" she says, "No. I heard that you dared to fight against Evan when he tried to punish you."

"Why shouldn't I fight back?" Avery demands, "It's ridiculous. I'm a live human being, not some dog you all can kick."

"You stabbed a needle into his heart and made him blackout!" Florence Howel rages.

"It was self-defense."

"Who taught you to use self-defense against your husband? You disgusting, rude thing. God forbid anything ever happens to Evan, you wouldn't be able to afford the consequences even if you had ten lives!"

As she speaks she becomes even more enraged and she begins to whip Avery.

"Mrs. Howel!" Leonie raises her hand to stop her, "Let Maureen do it. Whipping is tiring."

Leonie flashes a wicked smile at Avery, and Avery understands her intentions perfectly. Though she's strong for her age, Mrs. Howel can't hit her hard. Maureen, on the other hand, is strong from years of laboring in the Howel house. Avery can see Leonie's desire for revenge.

Although Avery is fastened with ropes, she writhes like a flexible mermaid and turns to look at Maureen.

"Mrs. Fletcher, I'd appreciate it if you whip me in the back," she says, "I have interviews with journalists from two newspapers. I'm to meet them in a halter top, and I already promised to pose for some photos."

Maureen pauses, with the whip half-raised. She looks to Mrs. Howel for guidance. Mrs. Howel looks questioningly at Leonie.

Leonie glares at Avery ferociously and lowers her voice, "Mrs. Howel, I know nothing about any interviews."

Mrs. Howel regards Avery warily, "What game are you playing now?"

"When did Avery become so unpredictable?" Florence Howel thinks, "She's so different from the woman who meekly accepted every punishment in the past. Did her seaside suicide attempt somehow shock her into a personality change?"

"I don't have the nerve to play any games. I'm only negotiating with Maureen," Avery says, "I guess she could slap me in the face if she wants to. Makeup won't cover it, but that's alright. It'll make for an interesting interview, no? How's this for a headline: Inside Mrs. Florence Howel's Sitting Room—The Old Sword is Still Sharp."

Maureen lowers the whip in confusion. The housekeeper certainly wants to whack Avery, but she has to wait for her boss' orders.

Frustrated, Leonie lowers her voice and offers to help, "I can send someone to look into Avery's story."

Mrs. Howel brightens, "Do it quickly, child!"

"It's a pity Miss Summer isn't all that bright," Avery sighs dramatically, "Whether I've already scheduled an interview or not is irrelevant. Every journalist in this city would love an interview with Evan Howel's wife. All I have to do is invite them and they'll be lining up all around the house to get a chance to talk to me."

Leonie stares at Avery in stunned defeat. Avery has utilized the Howels' greatest weakness against them: their prized reputation. Avery can afford to be publicly shameless, but they can't. If Avery appears before the press with bruises and claims that Evan and Mrs. Howel beat her it would create a terrible scandal.

Leonie gnashes her teeth in frustration. She wants Avery to suffer the same humiliation she felt this morning. Mrs. Howel is equally furious; she wants nothing more than to whip and curse Avery. Mrs. Howel tries to swallow her rage, but she's so mad her eyes roll.

"Untie her then," she hisses, "And get her out of my sight. I can't bear to look at her face for another second."

Regretfully, Maureen drops the whip. With quick fingers, she unties Avery and pulls her to her feet.

"You'll let go of me so easily?" Avery asks lightly.

"Get. Out," Mrs. Howel roars.

"This might be your last chance, Mrs. Howel. You have to know, I won't come so easily the next time you ask me here."

Avery is done groveling to Mrs. Florence Howel. The old woman has always disrespected her and mistreated her, and Avery refuses to respect her just because of her status. Ever since she married Evan, Florence Howel has been nothing but vicious toward Avery in an attempt to ruin the marriage.

"Well, I'll be divorcing Evan soon," Avery thinks, "Then we'll both get what we want."

Avery exits the sitting room calmly. The servants pause and gape at her—they've never seen her leave that room unharmed. Earlier in the morning, Mrs. Howel slapped her across the face without hesitation.

"Something strange is going on," they think.

Avery scoffs and ignores their stares. A tall and devilishly handsome figure is standing in front of a window, illuminated by the sunshine. He hears her footsteps and quickly walks toward her. He meets her in front of another window, and his tall frame ominously blocks the sunlight. His face is unreadable.

"Mr. Howel," she says cooly, "What a nice surprise."

"Don't talk to me like that," Evan frowns and his eyes wander over her body, "Where did they hit you this time?"

"Are you worried or simply curious?"

Ignoring her question, Evan tugs her arm and forces her to spin in a slow circle. He can't find any trace of an injury on her, and his jaw relaxes.

He's worried for her. For three years, he didn't give a second thought to his wife's regular beatings, but hearing of his grandmother's intentions made him surprisingly anxious today. He couldn't help but imagine her perfect body marked with bruises and cuts, and the thought made him confusingly upset. Seeing her in one piece, he feels relief. He doesn't understand it.

"Escort Mrs. Howel back to the room," he orders.

He decides he wants to have a word with his grandmother; he needs to know what happened in her sitting room. As he approaches the door, he hears his grandmother's disgruntled voice, "I'm furious. I've never met someone this rude and subordinate."

Leonie consoles her, "Mrs. Howel, calm down. It's not worth getting mad about her."

It doesn't seem like anything serious has occurred. Evan pauses. He's not in the mood to deal with his grandmother.

"Find out what happened," he tells Robert.

He paces the hall as he waits for Robert. Within minutes, Robert returns with a tablet. He cues the surveillance footage and shows Evan.

Avery appears on the screen. "Mrs. Fletcher, I'd appreciate it if you whip me in the back," she says, "I have interviews with journalists from two newspapers. I'm to meet them in a halter top, and I already promised to pose for some photos."

Evan fasts forward until he sees Avery speaking again, "I don't have the nerve to play any games. I'm only negotiating with Maureen," Avery says, "I guess she could slap me in the face if she wants to. Makeup won't cover it, but that's alright. It'll make for an interesting interview, no? How's this for a headline: Inside Mrs. Florence Howel's Sitting Room—The Old Sword is Still Sharp."

Robert gasps. He can't believe this is Avery.

"No wonder she left Mrs. Howel's sitting room unharmed," he thinks, "She knows how to manipulate the old woman."

He squints at Evan to judge his boss' reaction. Evan is wearing a strange expression, a mix of surprise and some other emotion Robert can't recognize. Evan replays the video again and again. Finally, he clicks save and stores the video file permanently.