Sharon let out a low growl, turning sharply from the door through which Matthew had disappeared. She flung herself on the bed and buried her face in her pillow just as her tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

How dare he?! She thought, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. Anger coursed through every vein in her body with alarming speed, causing her head to pound as she considered Matthew's decision to drag her back here like a mere servant; his cruel decision to keep her trapped here like a prisoner!

Slamming her fists against the mattress, she growled into her pillow. Matthew was exactly like her father; he wanted nothing but to control. He didn't insist on keeping her trapped because he loved her, he wanted her here because he needed her to bear his child. Then, he was going to get rid of her! He would most likely toss her over to the highest bidder! God only knew who that was going to be —perhaps Jenkins; perhaps once Matthew was finished with her, he would hand her over to Jenkins to do as he pleased?!

The lying bastard! She fumed, furious. Only a few weeks ago, he confessed to being in love with her and she had been stupid enough to believe his lies. She had been dumb enough to think she meant more to him than a piece of property to be possessed or traded with. She would be expected to go with her new possessor and do his bidding.

Shoving herself off of the bed, Sharon straightened and shook her head violently; she was done! She was done being the stake on the gambling table! She was done being used by others! And she was especially done doing what Matthew wanted! She might have allowed herself to be dragged into this ridiculous marriage in the first place, but she was not going to be forced to stay in the marriage.

She turned to the door and yanked, realizing as she did that it was locked.

Horrified, she tried again, but it adamantly remained shut before her. It was then she lost it. She snapped; her, as well as every ounce of self control she imagined she still possessed in that moment.

Yanking furiously at the knob, Sharon kicked and punched the door to no avail. But she didn't stop. Nothing seemed capable of stopping her from assaulting the door; not the pain that sliced through her arm muscles as she stood pounding, or her bruised knuckles that left tiny stains of blood on the white door.

“Matthew!” She called, pounding with vengeance on the barrier that stood before her. “You monster!” She yelled, crying aloud. “Monster, Monster!”

Desperation urged her on, every limb in her body desperately fighting to be set free of the prison she had been sentenced to by Matthew. But the door stood stubbornly shut.

Exhausted, she crumbled to a heap of grief on the wooden floors, burying her face in her palms.

“Sharon,” Nana Lois said, her soothing voice breaking through Sharon’s frantic mind.

Glancing up, Sharon was disappointed to find that the door was still locked and that Nana Lois only spoke from the other end.

Shaking her head, she made another feeble attempt at breaking down the door.

“Oh Sharon, dear child, please don't hurt yourself.” Nana urged, but Sharon thought it was already too late; she was hurt, damaged even. She was damaged by the same people who confessed to loving her.

“Why is he doing...” Her lips barely formed the words as she leaned back against the closed door, trembling with grief. “Why is he doing this? Why is he keeping me here?!”

“He's hurt,” Nana sighed loudly.

“I'm hurt!” She tried to yell but found that she was too exhausted to do so.

“Oh child,” Nana's solemn whisper drifted to her. “You are both hurt.”

Shaking her head furiously, Sharon nearly laughed at the insinuation of Matthew being hurt —how could he possibly be hurt when he was so busy hurting her? Wasn't she the one who was lied to? Wasn't she the one who was brought back here against her will? Wasn't she the one who was being held prisoner with no possibility of escape?

The very thought made her head pound; she needed to escape. She needed to get out from under Matthew's control.

Collapsing heavily against the door, she closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing. She needed to breathe and to think, and to not give in to her crippling emotions. If she was going to get out of here, she was going to be strong and crying or hurting herself was not going to help the situation.

Raising her fist before her, she scanned her bruised knuckles. Thankfully, they weren't bruised too badly, but she imagined they would need to get cleaned up.

“There, there, beautiful.” Nana Lois called, gaining Sharon's attention once more. “I'm sure we will have everything sorted out tomorrow. You two only need to sleep on all that took place today. Perhaps then you can discuss this?”

She scoffed. “Discuss? I don't think so, Nana. I'm not having a conversation with that man —never!”

“Sharon...”

Shaking her head, she did not wish to carry on with the conversation. “Don't try to defend him, Nana,” she said. There was neither an explanation nor a defense for Matthew's actions. Not only had he lied about being in love with her, he had used her to try to gain his inheritance and when that failed, he used her to try to get back with Gretchen.

“I think you both misunderstand each other. I'm not sure what's going on, but I know he loves you. His entire world is you.”

She shook her head once more, worsening her headache. “His entire world is Gretchen. And the only reason he came back for me was because he found out I was pregnant.” She rubbed her throbbing temple.

“He's angry.”

“No, I'm the one who's angry! He lied to me! He has done nothing but use me. First it was for his inheritance, and then it was for Gretchen.”

“Sharon, I'm afraid that's incorrect.”

“I heard him myself, Nana! I heard him say he was in love with Gretchen. He brought me back for his child. Once he has that, he'll throw me out on the streets. Or perhaps he might toss me over to the next gambler, who knows?”

“Listen, Matthew—”

“No!” She rose to her feet. She had heard enough about Matthew, and it only helped to heighten her raw nerves. What she needed was some time to think of a means of escaping his prison.

Wiping her tears, she smoothed her skirt and straightened.

“Matthew might be many things but he doesn't own me and he most definitely will not take my child away. He'll have to kill me first.”