I gasped as he pulled out his fingers, subtly positioning himself between my legs as his smoldering eyes pinned me down, the tip of his manhood hovered inches away teasing me. “This is wrong…” I whispered, shamefully turning my head to the side of the pillow, “…I am your step-mom…your father will–” “Don’t think about that man now…” he cooed as he slowly slid and destroyed the uncrossed boundary between us. ••••••••••••••• The doctor handed me a white envelope holding the pregnancy results, his face solemn and neutral. Yet I gulped nervously, already knowing what to expect. “I’ve grown five extra gray hairs waiting for you, are you planning to open the envelope sometime today?” My mother-in-law who sat next to me sneered sarcastically. I sighed inwardly, brushed my finger over the crisp piece of paper as I extracted its content. Negative Beatrice clutched her leather purse, standing up in a flurry of annoyance”What was even expecting?” she scoffed, “disappointing everyone is the only thing you are good at, other than being a barren husk,” the doctor hardly even blinked, it broke something inside of me to know that a practical stranger was so familiar with my degradement that he’d become desensitized in the process. I followed Beatrice from behind, head bowed as she continued the parade of shame through the halls of the hospital, several eyes turned towards us as she called me every name under the sun. I’d trained myself to swallow her insults like water, keep my head weekly, bow my lips tight holding back any retort. And for some reason. This irritated her even more. We got to the elevator, and I walked ahead to press the button like a helpful little servant. She made sure to give me an unnecessary shove as she walked past, then when I tried to follow in after her she held up her purse like a barrier. “Use the stairs; it wouldn’t hurt to burn off all that extra fat once in a while. ” The doors closed just in time to hide my burning tears, which pooled in the corner of my eyes. Quickly, I wiped them off with the back of my hand. The last thing I needed right now was another reason for people to stare at me. I ran down the stairs in a blaze, aware that my mother-in-law would probably drive off if I wasn’t in front of her within the next 7 minutes. By the time I reached the parking lot I was sweating, my clothes stuck to my body in an icky manner, she didn’t even have the decency to hide her smile of satisfaction when she saw me laboring my way towards her. Every month I had to endure this humiliation. She would drag me to the hospital, with or without any symptoms of pregnancy. Get me tested only to make a fool out of me. She did it without fail every single month. I was sick of it. But I couldn’t dare complain. My husband loved his mother with a passion, if she needed me to jump his only response would be; “How high?” She looked at me from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes, dragging her demeaning eyes across my frame with a scowl of disapproval. “Just looking at you is an eyesore, I don’t even know why my son stays married to you,” She looked at me, waiting for a rebuttal. Anything that would make her treat me more poorly, but I kept the mask on my face neutral and unmoved, knowing that was the only way I could get back at her–depriving her of the sick satisfaction that she got from tormenting me. More wrinkles formed on her face, I could see the Rusty wheels in her head thinking of the next insult she went through then her expression cooled and unraveled on her lipstick-slathered lips. “Maybe this is why my son cheats on you, at least he can have some fun outside to be able to tolerate coming back to you again,” My chest tightened, and I almost faltered but I held on to my mask. She always hinted at my husband having ‘fun’ beyond the confines of our matrimonial bed but I never paid her much heed. I planned to do the same today, then she brushed forward grabbing my arm which had no fingers so I couldn’t escape. Holding me in a vice grip that was impressive for somebody in their 60s then she whispered in my ear. “Golden cove hotel, room 102,” she backed away that devious smile never falling, “go there if you want to know the truth,” She clicked open her purse and fished out some ruffled Dolan bills, tossing them on the ground like she was handing them to a beggar. “This should be enough to get you there,” She said, openly relishing in my misery. She got in her car as I remained transfixed to the spot, I only broke out of it as she left the spot from her car splattering on my face and dispersing around. Slowly, almost as if I was reaching for a bomb I bent down to pick up the bills. My heart told me to ignore Beatrice, she was a sad pathetic woman who had never known happiness in her six decades of existence and chose to pick on me because my husband, Elliot Winter, looked the other way. He’d always apologize after days like these, He’d buy me flowers and tell me that this was just the way his mother was. I put up with it because I love him, and in her own checkered way, she loved him too. I squeezed the money into my hand, heading towards the road to swing down a cab. “Where are you heading?” The driver tossed the question at me just as I was getting comfortable in the back seat, two choices were in front of me right now, I could easily tell him to take me back to the Winter mansion, where I would live the rest of my day in oblivion and blissful ignorance. And whenever Elliot gets back you’ll have under his arm a cliché bouquet of roses. He’d ask me about my day and apologize for his mother. I would accept the flowers and suppress the feelings of inadequacy and shame that I had endured all day. “Ma?” The cab driver called out. I took a deep breath. “Golden Cove,”
Michelle’s pov By the time I reached Golden Cove’s lobby, I was already second-guessing myself. This could easily be Beatrice pulling a prank, but every time my resolve threatened to dissolve into emptiness Then I reminded myself yet again that I was not here because I took my annoying mother-in-law’s words to heart. I’ve had a suspicion for months now. Maybe even years. He’d changed. Not overnight, it happened gradually… Like water trickling out of a broken vessel. He stopped kissing me good morning and stopped asking how my night went. There was no more breakfast in bed. Yeah, it started from the little things. Then slowly, it was him forgetting my big occasions, raising his voice at me, coming back home from the office while pretending he didn’t smell like booze, women’s perfume, and bad decisions. We had several conversations–some of them arguments–I told him I wanted to go back to the time when he loved me and showed it. I missed the man that I met working afternoon shifts at the coffee shop when I was eighteen. He showed up every day by eleven, he’d make the same order–black coffee and a chocolate muffin-his eyes never left me while he was there, and I’d often come over to see his cup at least still half full. His subtle way of telling me that he was coming here for more than just the coffee. One sunny afternoon I got courageous and I did something out of character. I wrote my number on a tissue, pressed my lips on it, and shyly handed it over to him along with his coffee. He finished his coffee that day. I was worried, thinking things would get awkward between us all or he would never show up again. He was well-groomed and put together but anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell that there was a huge age gap between us, how big it was was what I didn’t know. He didn’t show up for a week afterwards. That week was torture, I’d lift my head every time the bell at the entrance dinged. My heart was sleeping with hope, only for it to come crashing down when it was just another random customer. Soon my expectation began to wane, and I was beginning to accept that maybe I had ruined a good thing before it could even start. That night, I was getting ready for bed and also to put my one-sided feelings to rest. That was when I got his text at 10:00 ‘You up?” Those two words changed the trajectory of my life. Regular texts with him became the highlight of every day for me, it made endless shifts bearable, even the bruises I got from my drunk Dad hardly hurt that much when his name lit up my phone. We got to talking more intimately after a while. He was going to be forty in a month or so. He asked if that bothered me. I’ll admit, at first it did, but he always told me that I was so mature for my age and I wasn’t like other reckless 18-year-olds. It made me feel good, like I was no longer the little girl who was getting beaten down and humiliated every day by her own father. Our relationship progressed and after going through some struggles he popped the question and I was more than happy to say yes. I lived like a princess in the first years of our marriage, waited on hand and foot. Back then when the results came back negative, he’d book me a vacation to unwind. If I had a headache he would leave his million-dollar company just to remain by my side and cuddle me all day. He showed me off like a trophy, a prize he was happy and lucky to win. Back then even if his mom disapproved of me she never tried anything funny. Now things were clearly different. And I wanted to know why. Why did he never look at me with the same loving affection as he used to do in the past why was I suddenly no longer welcome? Why were all those grandiose acts of love in the past? And when I reached room 102 I saw it. Or rather on the carpeted hallway. Elliot, my husband, my first and only love had his hand intimately wrapped around another woman’s waist. He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed way too loudly, leaning towards him with a broad smile. When they got closer I noticed that the woman was not a stranger, beyond the hair extensions, makeup up and designer clothes I recognized her. Natasha Grey A college dropout who was my cleaner a couple of months back, I paid her extra because she was friendly and bubbly. I didn’t have any friends anymore because none of them supported my relationship with Elliot so I cut them off. Maybe I should have listened. Natasha had quit a few weeks back, told me that she was going back to college. But from the looks of things she had already graduated from the uni of home wrecking. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn’t even notice me until we were about 10 ft apart, that was when Natasha saw me, she didn’t look ashamed. Not one bit, in fact she cozied herself closer to my husband, a triumphant smirk plastered on her face. How could they?! “Michelle?” Elliot called out confusion clouding his tone.”What are you doing here?” “Is that all you have to say to me?” I said as the tears started pouring down my face, there he stood with an apology not even an explanation. Just asking that ridiculous question like I was the one who had been caught cheating. The anger didn’t allow me to think I marched over to him and slapped him right across the face. “B*sterd!” I hissed then turned to leave rushing into the empty elevator before I could completely shatter.
Michelle’s pov “I hope you don’t get offended by this, but I thought he was your father… Not your husband… At least he looks old enough to be…” I chuckled, “He’s actually older than my father,” This was a conversation I’ve had more times than I’ve cared to count, the experience was always more or less the same. There would always be a noticeable shift in the air, their faces contorted with more questions that were looking for the most appropriate ways to leave their lips, and a thickening awkwardness that usually folded up the interaction. But when I talked with Natasha, she didn’t judge me. Instead, she approached it with the understanding that I had salt from my friends before cutting them off. Now as I’m crying out my heart, all the pieces are falling into place. She had come to understand me. But not in the way I hoped. She went after Elliot. And he actually took her as his lover. My mind was scrambled with different questions. How long have they been having an affair? Why would he do this to me? After 5 years of love and dedication was this water deserved? I recalled the look on his face, the absence of any semblance of guilt or remorse. This was the catalyst to my rage. I decided that I wasn’t going to cry myself to sleep tonight. At least not in the way Elliot would be expecting. With my phone in hand, I dial the number that I hadn’t contacted directly in years. “Michelle..” his deep voice caressed my name in such a way that it left me breathless for a moment or two. I gathered myself, 30 in my voice to give a response; ‘”I need you tonight” “I’ll be there,” that was it, no questions no begging, all he needed was to hear the urgency in my voice and he was coming. I blinked and recognized his red sports car in Golden Cove’s parking lot. I had only been waiting for about 5 minutes or so, when he stepped out of the car I saw him, standing taller than his father. His hair an aesthetic mess, his suit ruffled, instead of his measured strides he walked so quickly his feet hardly had time to touch the ground before leaving it once again. He reached me, and a flush of subconsciousness ran across my entire being. Here he was standing before me as effortlessly perfect as always without even trying while I looked like I had been run over. My hair was in its easy-to-go-messy bun, worn-out clothes sticky with sweat and tears and I’d lost weight recently too. I thought he’d be disgusted, couldn’t even blame him if he was. Instead, he pulled aside a fallen strand of hair from the side of my face, his eyes burning with pure fury. “Did that b*stard do this to you?” I chuckled derisively even though there was nothing funny to be chuckling about, or maybe I was wrong about that just like how I was wrong about many other things. There was a big joke that deserved to be laughed at. ME I pushed everyone away to be with a man who was twice my age, thinking he was mature and would love me in a way a new guy around my own age could, I assumed that he was loving and mature. But once he knew that he had captured me, that my whole world now revolved around him and nobody else he probably got bored. That’s why he’s been creating this gap between us, a line that couldn’t be crossed. That was why he didn’t mind his mother humiliating me. Why would he? I was mainly a remnant of a past he was probably dying to forget all about. And now with nobody to call, the only person I could lean on was my Stepson. Hayden Winter. I kept laughing until it turned into heated he has again, he embraced me, his huge arms enveloping me into his warmth and musky cologne. He let me cry until I was tired and red-eyed. Then it took me to his car and drove to his Villa on the outskirts of the city. He pressured me into taking a bath, saying I’d feel better afterwards. I resisted for a bit, then stepped under the shower of his spare bedroom, letting the rushing water take care of the grime, sweat, and tears. I stepped out, admittingly feeling physically lighter with a towel wrapped up to my chest. My relief quickly came to an abrupt pause when I remembered that I had no clothes to wear, I was thinking about that when a knock came on the door, followed by Hayden’s voice. “Hey, Michelle, are you out of the shower yet, I have something for you,” My heart was beating so fast I was sure it was ready to explode inside my chest, it was one thing to call him in the heat of the moment and now that I had cooled down I was beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe this was a bad idea? Hayden and Elliot never saw eye to eye, he was also one of the biggest opponents against our marriage. I don’t even know what possessed me to call him, perhaps it was the desperation rather than despair that made me dial his number but now that I had come to down I was beginning to rethink my decision. “Come in…” No matter what he helped me out when there was no one else to turn to so I should at least give him the benefit of the doubt for now. He came in, his eyes finding me in an instant and a smile warming up his face. He had a large black shirt draped across his arm. “Here, this is one of my smaller shirts,”
Hayden’s pov Calm down. Calm down… She’s here. She’s here in my Villa. Is this a dream? If so I’d like to sleep for a little more. I sizzle coming from the frypan was merely background noise compared to the chaos in my head. There was a blend of emotions battling for dominance in my mind; anger, excitement, worry, curiosity, and more. Some of them were directed at her and the rest at my sperm donor. He never even deserved someone like her. Then he dared to go around sleeping. I was at war with myself every day, resisting the urge to just grab my car keys and drive over to take her from right under his nose. His affairs were more or less like an open secret, and Golden Cove was his usual spot for his disgusting extramarital affairs. I thought she already knew about it, and just nipped it in the corner of her mind without thinking about it I wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to gaslight her into thinking it was her fault he was cheating and to accept it. “Hayden?” A tingle ran down my back hearing my name from her plump lips, her voice ever calming like light ocean waves. I mentally cemented myself to be unmoved when I turned around and almost immediately failed. I’d given her one of my smaller shirts that stopped fitting right after I hit the gym. It inhaled her inside, stopping at her hips. I’d also given her some briefs I’d ordered online that ended up arriving in the wrong smaller size. I was pissed off back then but now I’m almost grateful for their callous mistake. I thought the day she’d wear my shirt would remain in my shirt would only remain in my dreams… no, Hayden, bad Hayden! Not now… that’s not what she needs right now. “Take a seat,” I said gesturing to the bar stool placed in front of the kitchen Island. It was physically painful to watch her move, each motion was unbearably slow and while they were brief, she’d pause as well. I’m sure she wasn’t even aware that she was doing it, my body had probably grown accustomed to that after all the stress Elliot put it through. If I didn’t need to be here right now I would have driven back to Golden Cove and done something that would have landed me in a mugshot tomorrow. “Is there something on my face?” The question shot at me unexpectedly, my face warmed up and I snapped my attention back to the noodles I was cooking. “No, why would there be?” Should I tell her that she’s lost weight? No, maybe that would be body shaming… What if I just casually say it? I ended up saying nothing, I served her a helping of the stir-fry instant ramen with vegetables and sunny side egg and she gawked at me like I just found the final clue to solving world hunger. “This is too much…” She said her tone wrapped in embarrassment, “I don’t deserve all this…” I never knew that I could feel such an intense mixture of rage and sadness at the same time. She deserved the world and yet looks like she was about to break down over instant ramen. So much hard to changed about her since the first time I met her. Too much. I can’t forget the way her eyes sparkled like they had stolen the stars and hidden them behind those hazel orbs. Back then she was plump and skipped about with reckless abandon. From the moment I saw her, I knew she didn’t belong with a scheming wretch like Elliot. Elliot had invited me to join them for dinner at his home, normally it was hard for me to ingest food knowing that his face was going to be at the other side of the table. But we had some business to discuss that day, and he hadn’t stopped talking about his new catch for weeks. It made my stomach twist just thinking about it. There are very few things in this world that are more discomforting than knowing your father’s ‘girlfriend’ was around the same age as you, pure, undiluted revulsion would mix up in my stomach just watching him mess around with them. That night, she was the one who answered the doorbell. I was doom scrolling through my phone, when her voice thrown up an octave entered my ears. It remains the most musical thing I have heard to date. “Hayden, right?” I couldn’t speak for 10 solid seconds when I saw her, time slowed down and my phone nearly slipped from my fingers. Then everything was bleak and dark again when my father showed up from behind, gingerly wrapping his hand like a snake across her waist. I watched it as my gaze sent invisible lasers at his spiteful touch. “Welcome, Son,” he said in that grating voice of his, squeezing her even tighter. My knuckles formed as I subconsciously knew what he was doing, he was drawing a line while showcasing a fresh catch. I never had any problem with getting women, in fact the way the ones falling out of my feet even when I lacked interest. Despite being partially aware of that, Elliot had this one-sided competition going on for years. Showing me that at his big age, he was able to get girls around mine, he was so proud of himself that I’d shifted between pity and disgust just looking at him. But that’s night I experienced something with Michelle, it was utterly different from the revulsion I was used to, no it was the complete opposite. I was on edge for the entire dinner, and when I went to my apartment that I lived in at the time I tried to push her away from my mind and also the anger that came from thinking about her in my father’s arms.
Michelle’s Pov Hayden, my stepson, was perfectly still for far too long. He must be really upset that after going through all the trouble of making me this meal the only thing I could do was refuse to reciprocate his efforts, the words were already out the only thing I could do now was apologize and hope he accepted it and let me eat. “I’m sorry, Hayden…I didn’t–” “Just eat,” I think he’s annoyed with me, but at least he’s letting me eat. I forgot all shame for a second and started wolfing down the food. His eyes were burning down the side of my face but my mouth was moving and I didn’t want to stop nor did my chopsticks which he had laid beside the plate of food. All the flavors exploded in my mouth sending the right signals to my brain, it’s tasted so good that I moaned with relish. “Hmg” Hayden grunted, suddenly turning around while taking deep breaths. I flushed, he must have figured out how hungry I was. The truth was, for the past several weeks, Beatrice had taken it upon herself to harshly police every single thing I ate, scrutinizing my diet with relentless criticism. “This is exactly why you’re fat like a pig and can’t get pregnant, it’s because of all this nonsense that you’re inhaling into your body. I won’t look away anymore,” she had always complained that I ate too much and I could be more slim, more slender. I always knew I was on the chubbier side, it was an insecurity that I had battled and temporarily won in the past. That was until my mother-in-law showed up and started planting those uprooted insecurities again. Before she wouldn’t dare say such words to me, at least not without heavily sugar coating it. Back then when Elliot still cared about me he would immediately shut his mother down no matter how sugar-coated her words were. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect towards me. Now.. I had tried to push those awful thoughts away, and while I was eating and quenching my hunger for the first time in weeks I was able to distract myself but as soon as the plate was empty my eyes were filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” I apologized to Hayden. “Don’t apologize,” he said taking the plates away and taking care of them in the sink. “Why did you come?” I asked, so many things confused me right now, and at the forefront of them was his sudden hospitality. From what I knew, he didn’t like me one bit. In fact, the first night we met he was just staring at me like they snuck me into the planet, and when he was not staring he was shooting daggers with his eyes. I could already guess what he was thinking. There was a strong chance he assumed I was nothing more than a shallow gold digger, clinging to his father’s wealth and status, and that my presence in their lives had little to do with love and everything to do with money. But the truth back then was that I loved Elliot. And that’s exactly why his betrayal cuts so deep. While I still stayed under my father’s roof working multiple jobs, there was something that kept me going even before I met Elliot. My dream of go to college. My major would be in Engineering. I was a straight-A student, already scouting around for scholarships. Then I fell in love and that dream went down the pipeline. Now I regret it deeply. “Your father…has another woman,” I said quietly, I don’t know why I confessed something so humiliating to him maybe because it was burning me from inside and I needed a way to let it out before I exploded so I just told him. Hayden kept washing the dishes without pause and replied; “I already knew,” His reply struck me with the force of a slap, sharp and stinging. Heart pounding, I pushed myself off the barstool and deliberately approached him, each step heavier than the last. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” The question shot out like an accusation, “.. if I knew…” “If you knew… What would you have done?” He faced me after putting the dishes aside. “You have already been tolerating so much from Elliot I assumed that this was just another thing you had to learn to put up with as well,” Shame overwhelmed me then came this undescribable urge to defend that man. “I haven’t spoken to him yet, I left before he could say anything… Maybe this was just a one-time thing and–” “See? This is exactly what I meant…” He leaned in closer and before I knew it my back was pressed against the counter and he hovered over me like it was a dark tower. “He’s not even said anything yet, and here you’re building up a case in your mind to defend him. Gosh, I’m really trying to help you, but if I’m being honest you’re not making it easy,” He placed his hands at my sides, effectively trapping me between his rippling muscles as he leaned closer enough that his musk swam unfiltered into my nostrils and his heated breath brushed at my neck. Goosebumps ran across my whole body as I rubbed my thighs together. “Step back, please ..” I was supposed to yell but instead it came out as a whisper, my breathing became uneven. He was about to do just that, then I remembered Elliot and Natasha laughing and giggling together, disregarding my feelings…the sadness gave way to the anger. I had to get back at him. No matter what other way I felt, I’d show him that it took two to tango. I grabbed Hayden by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down. I stopped when our lips were a millimetre apart, heated breaths intermingling. His eyes flashed with a look I didn’t recognize, I got cold feet and was ready to pull away when he grabbed me by my waist, lifting me for his lips to embrace mine.
Michelle’s pov His kiss filled me with a need I couldn’t describe, carving out a desire I had long since buried within myself trapped within the confines of my heart because it was something that Elliot could never fulfill, not like here but went out of his way to do so. Hayden pulled it out of me as his lips ravaged mine until I was out of breath and my face was flushed with color our eyes met questioning pleading for more, my heart was slamming against my ribs the bits of common sense that remained in my mind told me that this was wrong but before I blinked our lips met again like the opposite sides of a magnet a reached down his hand touching my thigh and going higher. If I didn’t stop him now…then.. The thought only remained in my mind but did not go past my lips, didn’t even get the chance as his tongue pryed through, entangling itself with mine our saliva mixed into a cocktail of deeper need his hand rose higher more defiant. Now my heart was beating so loudly I was half sure he could hear it he pulled me up plopping me on the counter without breaking the kiss. His other hand pressed more firmly to my lower back so that I was still pulled towards him. I reached my fingers around his neck, accidentally grabbing his hair and yanking on it. I was just about to apologize when he leaned towards me shivering, and moaned softly into my mouth. “Please…” He was begging not asking, “…do that again,” I was skeptical and a little freaked out by what I just learnt about Hayden, but still I complied holding a fistful of his hair and pulling on it. “Ugh…” It took his hand from my back and grabbed my other leg instinctively I rubbed them around his hips, our bodies were now glued together as we explored each other’s mouths his tongue licking at every crevice in my mind. I was so distracted by his kisses that I only came back to reality as he stood at the foot of the bed then dropped me on the king-sized bed. It was soft like lying on a cloud. I was catching my breath when I saw the threatening tent in Hayden’s pants, I gulped, my mouth already felt dry on account of his tongue. Watching the bound in his pants grow was both exciting and scary at the same time. “That looks like it hurts,” I said unable to take my eyes away.”How much bigger are you going to get?” He smirked.. “Don’t tell me, my old man isn’t at least this size?” I blushed. Elliott has been my first and only, there was no other real-life experience to compare if he was above or below average. But I always liked to assume that he was at least average. Or maybe it was his son who was the weird one. His mention of his dad gave me another dose of doubt, what if I ended up regretting this? We had already made out… Was there really any backing out now? He took off his pants leaving just his stretched briefs ot on the bed walking on all fours then trapping me between his hands again as he hovered over me. “Are you wondering if it’ll fit?” I hesitated. “I’m just wondering if we’re doing the right thing…” He chuckled. “We’re not,” ••••••• His tongue was lapping all the juices that was flowing out of my folds, each flashy whip from that lethal tongue of his sent me crashing into a wave of pleasure, then a tsunami began to build up my legs trembled raising higher and higher by themselves like they were trying to touch the roof then I reached my peak exploding with a mix of intense guilt and satisfaction. Except there was more satisfaction than guilt. I was embarrassed to admit that even to myself, after giving his still clothed member one more passing look I slipped off the bed and straightened my clothes. I ignored how my legs were still wobbling like jelly. Hayden’s eyes were watching me burning from his own unquenched desire, he got off the bed too. “Are you just going to leave like that?” He helped me from behind wrapping his hands around my waist and sliding his member between my butt cheeks lifting the hem of my dress until the only thing between us and direct contact was the soaked cotton of our underwear. I was getting moist and needy again, part of me wanted to dig my tongue into his throat once more and pull him towards the bed to have him go all the way with me but as the mist of pleasure was beginning to clear up guilt took its chance and snuck in. This was wrong… Even if I wanted to get back at his father, using my stepson to do that was just plain wrong. I untangled his hands from around my waist, peeling myself away from him before turning around and letting our eyes make contact. His own eyes had darkened with want. I had to admit that even if I wasn’t going to give in to him he was still making it as hard as possible to resist. All these years as my bedroom life with Elliot became more stale and predictable, I never once pointed an accusing finger towards him. In my mind, I was the one at fault. I thought that there was something wrong with me because Elliot had never scratched the surface of what Hayden made me feel tonight. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” I said offering no other explanation until I got to the door and paused as my fingers encircled the handle. “Let’s just pretend like tonight never happened,” “Can you?” He asked me his voice tight. I did answer, just pulled the door open, and left before I changed my mind and made another mistake.
I woke up the next morning all groggy with a headache that threatened to split my skull in two. My arms instinctively reached for Elliot like they had done for years, only to hang awkwardly midair. Slowly, I peeled my eyelids open, allowing the artificial light from the bulb above my head to filter in the image of my surroundings as I became more conscious. As soon as I sat down memories from last night flooded my mind, and blood furiously ran through my cheeks. How could I? And of all people… Hayden, my stepson? With clarity came the oppressive weight of shame. Quickly, I steadied myself on my feet, ready to flee, when I recalled that I didn’t even have a penny stuck on me. How do I get home? I wracked through my head for an answer when a smooth heated breath brushed the back of my ears, “Good morning,” I leaped away like I had been electrocuted, and clasped my ear like it was on fire. It was Hayden. Hayden… My stepson is in nothing but sweatpants and a tight shirt that clung to every firm muscle. My cheeks were hotter but I managed to ramble a response. “Good morning… How was your night?” I said the first thing that came to mind and instantly wanted to face palm myself, really? “It was all right really, took a long cold shower,” he said, and kept my eyes through every word. I blushed and looked away, unable to retort. I awaited the insults. He’d probably call me a nasty tease who got him pent up just to leave him on edge. “Are you a fan of pancakes?” He inquired, he’d subtly moved closer, “not a brag but I’m a really good cook.” At first I was too shocked to speak, where was the beration? The insults that cut like knives? Wasn’t he angry after what happened last night between us? I opened my mouth to speak and what came out was out of reflex, “Sorry, I’m not allowed to have pancakes,” Instantly my face reddened up, I was like a child repeating the words of my parent. “Are you allergic to flour or something?” It did not even cross his mind to ask if it was because I wasn’t permitted to eat pancakes or anything of the like. I guess that’s just how abnormal my situation is. “Oh, it’s nothing… I just like having a light breakfast,” What was I supposed to tell him? That my diet was monitored by my husband and his mother? That I had weekly weight checks to see if I was getting too ‘fat’. Should I reveal that I wasn’t allowed to so much as look at a pancake much less eat one? Back then I had been too naive to question it, both of them were decades older than me so of course I thought they would know better. And Elliot… He was my husband, the man who claimed to love me. I never thought that he would once lead me astray. Thankfully all hidden did was give me a concerned look but he prepared pancakes for himself and a fruit platter for me, he was even thoughtful enough to cut the fruit. I felt embarrassed but there was already too much between the two of us to break with silence. “Do you need help finding a lawyer?” He said, his eyes now narrowing down on the first apple he picked. “I can recommend a good one for you,” I fidgeted with my fingers. “What would I need a lawyer for?” He gave me the most curious look. “Last I checked, that’s usually the first step to getting a divorce,” Divorce. Just hearing the words made me shiver. “Will I have to divorce him?” I asked, voice shaking. Hayden stopped peeling the apple abruptly. “That depends, are you ready to leave the hard life of a woman who loves a cheater? Trust me it’s never easy on them,” I thought about his words deeply, the wound was still fresh and deep in my heart. The logical thing was to call a divorce lawyer and sever all ties with Elliot ASAP. But some things were easier said than done. My marriage with Elliot had always been like a rocky boat most times, but beyond that boat was an even more unstable and unexplored sea. With Elliot, I knew exactly what to expect and how to deal with it. I stopped discovering myself at 18 on started being Mrs Winter. That was the entirety of my person, my identity… If I left him now, who would I be anymore? “I need time,” I said almost like a whisper. For sure this time he will yell at me and call me indecisive, and I wouldn’t even have the right to blame him I closed my eyes and waited for the rain of insults to come pouring in. Nothing. The next thing I heard was a screeching over the surface of the counter until it reached me. Cautiously I opened my eyes staring down at the aesthetic arrangement of fruits. “Bon appétit,” he said with a smile before going to prepare his own breakfast. “Were you always this nice?” I asked thinking. “Maybe…” He said vaguely as he cracked the eggs into a glass bowl, “… You’ll just have to get to know me to know,” I bit into the apple, with no response. Last night was already big enough of a mistake. If I had not managed to pull myself together at the last minute, I would have done something that both of us would end up regretting in the long run. Even now as I was trying to remain casual around him, I no longer saw him as my husband’s son. He was a man in my eyes now, radiating raw masculine energy that made me yearn for things that I wouldn’t dare utter. I shouldn’t drag him into my messed-up world. Not now and not ever.
Michelle’s pov Hayden offered to drive me home, but I had no other choice down to decline his generosity. He had already done more than enough since last night. It was only right that I drew a line between us now, a boundary that wasn’t meant to be crossed. Though I don’t even know if I have the right to say that anymore. We didn’t exactly go all the way, but it would be a wide stretch of the truth to say nothing happened between us. If only I could wipe my memory then I’d like to forget how passionate his kiss how, how it set of spark in my head and had butterflies fluttering in my stomach. How his hands provoked shivers on my skin and I just knew where exactly to touch. Things were better back when I didn’t know I could feel this way, this rush that left goosebumps. Ignorance really is bliss. If only I could go back to being the Michelle Winter who still believed she was the center of her husband’s world, loved and cherished albeit unconventionally. I was beginning to open my eyes to just how deeply twisted our relationship was. Yet I couldn’t step out… At least not now. Worst of all when I wasn’t thinking of him with Natasha I was imagining myself with his son. This couldn’t get worse. It did, however, get worse. Before I reached the mansion I had already replayed how our conversation would go, and I even imagined scenarios where Elliot would deny everything. At least I could say I was mentally prepped as anyone could be before confronting a cheating spouse. But all of that preparation came crumbling down like a stack of cards when I walked into the living room and saw a scene that made my stomach twist from the inside. Elliot flipped through channels. Natasha had her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. I never thought that anything could make me feel any more foolish than when I saw them together yesterday. But I guess I was wrong…once again. Now he was even flaunting the relationship? In that moment something shifted within me, ran through my entire nervous system, and made me numb to them. If I were the same woman as yesterday I would have made a scene once more, yelling at Natasha to get off Elliot. Claiming him as my husband, but instead of doing that I walked past the two of them. Elliot grunted with annoyance. “Where were you last night? Why are you just coming back this morning?” Disgust through my skin, he must have purchased all the audacity in the world to ask me those questions while he was glued to his mistress. He brought his affair partner home and yet he was comfortable enough to ask me these questions, to demand answers when I should be the one doing so? I swirled until I faced him, lost for words as I looked between him and his affair partner, the woman that I had taken as my friend during her hard times. Both of them revolted me beyond the words could fully describe. “I was out,” I replied, and his eyes zoomed in on me. They patiently waited for me to crack, scream, and wail. But I did none of that, I had already humiliated myself enough because of him. There was no need to do so anymore. “By the way…” He said then lowered his until it was smashed on Natasha’s thigh. “I don’t know what you assumed last night that made you slap me, but Natasha and I are just good friends. Unlike you, she doesn’t nag or complain so I get to enjoy her company without any issues,” His hands were almost all the way to her panties yet he called her a friend with a straight face. How have I been married to this man for years? “Sure,” I replied, the neutral expression on my face was not phased. My rose colored spectacles had fallen off and I saw him for who he truly was. A despicable man who was not capable of love, just lust. I had to leave him. But I also have to be smart about it. Right now everything from our finances to the house I was residing inside was all in his name. I was a dependent in every sense of the word. That night, Natasha knocked on my door, I thought she planned on ignoring me completely yet she was at the entrance of my room wearing a nightgown that hid nothing. “Oops…my bad…I thought this was the main bedroom,” She was really aching to rub it in, wasn’t she? Elliot had removed my things from the smallest guest room before I came back, a servant informed me after I left them earlier in the morning. I’m sure he took it as a great punishment on my side, he’d expect me to come crawling by tomorrow begging for his forgiveness if only he knew that I would rather eat my own vomit than sleep next to him so he was doing me a great favor. Natasha blissfully unaware that the only thing I felt towards her and my soon-to-be ex-husband was unfiltered disgust thought she would be making me jealous of her by less than subtly showing me what she was going to sleep next to Elliot with. “Well then you better make your way there,” I said and slammed the door shut before she could shoot back a retort. I took a deep breath before heading to my bed, it squeaked when I lay on it, and the mattress felt like a slab of stone covered in fabric. But despite all of these things, I had never felt at such peace with myself before going to bed. Such relief from not being called names before my slumber. I was just about to doze off when a notification lit up my phone. I grabbed it from the dusty nightstand and checked that it was a text from Hayden. “Hi, can I call you?”
I didn’t get the chance to reply before my ringtone suddenly filled the small room and shook its walls that seemed as brittle as biscuits. I panicked and ended up accidentally answering the call by swiping right with my finger. His voice was deep and velvety, and it shot through the phone and into my unprepared ears. “So, how did today go?” I already told myself I had to draw a line between my stepson and me. But there was something about the way he asked, his voice painted with concern and not just mere curiosity all for my well-being. “What can I say?”I started with, “So when I got back home….” I really didn’t want to tell him so much, but there was a way he nudged me forward, making all the right little sounds in the right places to let me know that he was really listening and not just waiting for his turn to talk. Like the words I said mattered But I mattered. So I told him everything from the moment I so both of them in the living room casually watching TV to Natasha accidentally ending up in front of the guest room where I was staying. I heard him groan from the other side of the line. And I shivered. Just from his voice alone? Goodness, what’s wrong with me? Maybe I should just end the call right now and– “That man really never knows when to stop,” he cut into my thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t need me there right now? I can–” “No, for now I can handle it myself… But if I need your help I’ll call you, “I had no plan to call him but something told me that if I outright refused his offer he would keep pestering until I said yes. “How has your day been?” I asked trying to divert the conversation from myself and my issues as well by extension. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted without a speck of shame. And I, even worse than him was deep down inside enthralled by that. I hadn’t been yearned for in years. In the earlier years of our marriage, especially when I was still freshly 18 Elliot could never keep his hands off of me, I pranced around the mansion in loose-fitting outfits, knowing that he needed access to me 24/7. I hardly ever had a moment of rest, even in my sleep I would wake up to him b*lls deep inside me, pleasuring himself until his eyes rolled back. Early on I had complained a bit, told him my stamina didn’t match his ( which was aided by supplements) his eyes which were always warm and loving would instantly become cold and judgmental. “This is the duty of every wife, what else can you offer if you’re not giving me your body?” Back then I had completely rationalized it as me being selfish, even if I was tired I just had to lie there and let him have his way. Even on days that I wasn’t in the mood, that didn’t matter. He was my husband and I owed him my body whenever and wherever. It all made sense back then but now I was fighting back vomit thinking of it all. “Why would you be thinking about your stepmother?” I tried to joke and escape my thoughts. He laughed, “You almost make it sound like you’re older than me,” “I’m not but still–” “That man isn’t going to change, Michelle…” He said my name like he was with his lips. “I’m not saying that he will, I already know that I have to leave him that much is clear to me. But what I need to do first is unravel all the ties we have together… It’s been 6 years of my life, almost a decade and all of it has gone down the drain in one night… I still need some time to process, to sort things out,” He listened without interrupting me once, giving me the courage to speak my mind. “And after I leave your father… I want to cut him out of my life completely and anything that relates to him…” My voice softened, “… including you, Hayden.” When he spoke I could feel the tightness in his throat, like he was forcing the words out. “Is there no way you’ll change your mind? That man has already more or less disowned me. I–”He stopped himself before I could. “I’m sorry, you must be going through a lot right now and here I am bothering you with my own issues… I’ll respect whatever decision you choose to make,” I took a deep breath, “Good night, Hayden.” After our call ended I blocked his number. There was no need to deepen what was already going on between the two of us, no need to allow this little flower that was growing in my heart to get sunlight. I needed to shroud it in darkness again until it shriveled and died away. Yes, that’s exactly what I need to do. There was no way I could remove Elliot from my life permanently and still keep ties with his son knowing just how possessive he was he might not let me live my life freely. After my conversation with Hayden, I got thirsty and went to the kitchen to grab myself in bottle of water. Before I could even step in, I heard grunts and moans mixed, there was also a wet slapping sound that tore through the silence of the night. I stepped forward against the benefits of my mental health, then I saw Elliot and Natasha together. Just when I thought that they couldn’t irk me anymore, they somehow managed to do something even much more worst. I stood looking out at them mortified to the spot by their actions, could they be any more despicable? “Harder! Harder!!” Natasha screamed like her life depended on it.
Michelle’s pov Elliot knew it was a habit of mine to sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water at night. He had an inkling that I would be here and yet he still brought his mistress down to the kitchen to plow into her like nobody’s business. I was gobsmacked. From his perspective, I was still his enamored wife, too naive to know any better, wearing a facade of nonchalance. He still believed I cared about him and yet did this, I backed away a nauseous feeling swelling in my stomach. How could someone be so vile? So thoughtlessly cruel? Was there ever a time he truly cared? A time he’d loved me? I sighed as the guestroom closed behind me. What’s good with it to make me think of all of this? He assumed I stopped being enough a long time ago. That should be enough reason for me to give up on him, on us. I slumped on the bed, buried my face into the pillow, and released another tired sigh. I wanted to be out of this house and his control already, but as difficult as it was, I had to exercise some patience. And maybe ask for some help. I unblocked Hayden, thankfully before he could call or text again so he wouldn’t pick up on it. I messaged him inquiring about the lawyer, I wasn’t expecting a response but before I placed my phone down one came anyway. It read; Yeah I could get you one of the best divorce lawyers in the city, she’s a good acquaintance of mine. Gratitude was in order so I thanked him and promised to pay him back for the legal fees when I was on my feet. He replied; “Don’t worry about that, you getting out of that place is all the payment I need,” Part of me felt like I was stringing him along, I wasn’t blind enough not to notice that he wanted me, I was however sensible enough to consider that it’d the impossible to give it to him. I had already drawn a boundary between us, a gap that was never meant to be crossed. If he chose to push it only to slam face-first into the wall of blunt rejection that was now his choice to make I’m not my decision to manage. Morning came, my throat was dry and my mind was a scrambled mess. Eventually, I gathered my bearings in the unfamiliar room, propped myself up on my feet, and maneuvered my way through the usual morning routine. Before I left the room I already mentally prepped myself for another day of tolerating Elliot and Natasha. I had no idea that they were not the ones I had to worry about today. There was noise in the kitchen even before I arrived, the clanking of pots and pans was a testimony of someone cooking. I entered on saw Beatrice, swirling from one pot to another. Being the perceptive snake that she was, she quickly sensed my presence and snapped her head towards my direction. “What are you wearing?” She commented with a raised eyebrow, Today I opted for an off shoulder top with a fitted skirt. These clothes had long been gathering dust in my wardrobe on account of them not being my soon-to-be ex-mother-in-law’s taste. But now I was no longer worried about what her son thought of me, much less her who had never even been pretentiously nice. “Good morning,” I greeted her intentionally ignoring her question, it wasn’t even what my saliva I’d use up addressing it. She would have probably scolded me to change out of the outfit if what she was cooking didn’t need so much attention. As she raised the pot lid the awful stench came and slapped me in the face. I scratched my nose, while I battled not to openly reel away at the smell. “This is a family recipe for fertility, make sure you drink all of it before I make a new batch next week,” Once again I just ignored her, she narrowed her eyes at me. “Aren’t you even going to so much as thank me? I’m trying to save what you still have left of your marriage… Which isn’t much if I’m going to be honest,” she laughed and continued it to swirl the contents of the pots in front of her. This wasn’t the first time she had shown up with a so-called family recipe, each one she treated like a magic potion that would have me knocked up by the next day. The concoctions usually tasted like misery sadness and spite, I suppose it makes sense since it was my mother-in-law who prepared them. Now that I was reevaluating everything, it became almost crystal clear to me that this abhorrent mixture she made on an irregular basis probably didn’t even help with fertility it was just another way to pick on me. Speaking of picking on me, she pulled out the machine for my regular weekly weight check. In the past this had always been a moment of dread and fear for me, though she never once said I did well even if I was just bones with flesh sticking to it she would give me a derisive look and follow it up with a lecture about how a woman was never supposed to lose her beauty even with age. Talk about throwing stones in a glass house. She told me to step on the scale, and I looked between her and the electronic device before suggesting. “Don’t you think you should step on it first? You look like you’ve added a few since I last saw you yesterday,” Her face instantly went red, wrinkles intensifying as she scrunched up her expression. “How dare you?!” She screamed at me, “You ungrateful little brat! My son picked you up from the gutters you–” “What’s going on here?” Everything and everyone stilled when Elliot walked in.
Michelle’s pov Beatrice’s face turned haughty and smiling from an angle only I could see before she threw how old bones. “Elliot, my dear, you won’t believe what this girl said to me… I came all the way here to help and she….” She went on a whole tirade taking full advantage of her position in his arms to massage his back and sides. Knots in my stomach formed, was there anything about this family that wasn’t foul and twisted? Her unusual level of skinship with her son was yet another thing I had to turn a blind eye to during my years of marriage. “Michelle, you’ve been acting strange since yesterday… I already told you that Natasha is just a friend to me. Why are you acting out to my mother?” Perhaps I would have to check the dictionary for the meaning of friends again because what I saw last night was anything but that. “I’m not asking out I’m just being straightforward I don’t want to take all of us concoctions that you’re more than making anymore it’s not like any of them even work,” His mother screamed even louder than before, engaged her flippant reaction feeling the stranger’s urge to just burst into laughter but I held myself. One of us needs to remain sane in this room at least. “Son, I think your wife is right… Stupid old woman knows nothing and I’m not even able to mind my own business anyway so that’s why she had to put me in place,” His eyebrows furrowed with annoyance, “So you felt you had the right to disrespect my mother?” Even though my face was pressed against his chest I already knew that it was worn by that wicked grin. “Elliot please don’t yell at her… I’ll take what I came with and leave,” He embraced his mother tightly more than was comfortable for anyone. “Mom please stay… Just head to the living room for now let me have a one-on-one talk with this woman,” Beatrice pretended to drag her feet but she left cackling below her breath. “Michelle you have 5 minutes to explain yourself, when did you think you could start being rude to my mother? Like I said before Natasha and I are just friends…” It was my strangeness that I used to admire everything about this month, but now, that I could see him for what he really was it cut through all other pretenses. I never had a loving husband. Just a man who wanted to take advantage of my youth, and now that I was no longer palatable to him, he was treating me like trash. “I never questioned your friendship with Natasha, I already understand that what I saw at that hotel was just a misunderstanding. You don’t have to explain it to me over and over again,” The veins in his head were outlined so properly that you could trace them with your fingers. “So you really don’t care?” He insisted, refusing to back down, “Then why were you rude to my mother? Weren’t you trying to retaliate?” I took a deep breath gathering my patience together, I would need all of it if I didn’t want to snap at him mid-conversation. “I have already overlooked the way your mother has treated me for years, there is only so much I can take. I am willing to take professional medication, but I’ve already gotten tested several times…” I paused measuring his expression, “… And the doctors have never found a problem with me,” The implications of my words were not lost on him, he stepped forward rubbing my hand hard enough to leave bruises. “When did you learn to talk back at me Michelle?” Mixed with his anger now was a clear dose of confusion, he wasn’t used to this side of me. The side him and didn’t fold at any moment when he asked. “It’s about time I learnt to stand up for myself, don’t you think so?” He stared down at me with such perplexity that one would assume that this was the first time he was seeing me. Maybe he was. Maybe he was seeing the same girl that he had buried beneath the weight of his manipulation, a person within the mold that he had crafted breaking through, the first crack that was a prelude to the complete collapse. After a while the frown on his face completely dissolved and was replaced with a derisive smile. He shoved me aside, not hard enough to cause a fall but it still pushed me a few steps back. “I see what you’re doing…” He looked far too satisfied with himself, “… This is just an attempt to get my attention, isn’t it?” With the way he smiled now I would have preferred back a moment when he grabbed my hand. “I will overlook your impudence today because I’m actually amused, but I won’t be so generous the next time you act out like this,” he tapped my nose playfully but all I could feel was my stomach going inside out with pure disapproval. After last night if there was any respect that I had stored in the corner of my mind for him because he rescued me in his own twisted way from my abusive father, all of it was gone now. Thrown into the wind by the size of who he truly was, a despicable bastard that didn’t care for anyone except maybe his mommy. When he left my feet gave way collapsing to the ground, and my entire body was trembling so much like a puppy left out in the winter cold. Just then and my phone began to vibrate, my heart skipped a beat because of the suddenness of the cold and how it came out of the blue nevertheless I fished it out and saw Hayden’s number. I answered, his voice felt like an ointment to the wounds of my heart. “Michelle, I need to see you.”
Michelle’s pov Hayden texted the address of our rendezvous to my phone. I had to rummage through the house to find some spare change to get me there. Then I snuck out through the back door to meet him. I never realized just how little freedom I had before. After all, I had remained carefully and enclosed in the box Elliot shoved me in for years. Each new realization hit me with the impact of a thunderbolt, electrocuting my senses most shockingly. Hayden was already at the coffee shop before I got there, semi-casual with a turtle neck and pants. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes skimmed from one direction to another until they finally landed on me instantly lighting up. I was robbed in a bubble of subconsciousness while walking to sit across from him as his gaze never wavered, not even once. If only he wouldn’t look at me that way, then it would be easier to bury these pesky feelings without fear of them cropping up like a weed. “You said there was an update…” I opened up the conversation as I took my seat. He nodded, “Yeah, I scheduled a meeting with the divorce lawyer. We will be able to see her in an hour and a half,” he supplied helpfully, then screened my face. “Michelle, you look tired,” He pointed out empathetically. “Don’t worry, with all the evidence that will be available to us the case is almost as good as done in your favor,” His words prick inside of me a forbidding feeling of doom. “Hayden, what do you mean by all the evidence?” I asked stretching my hand across the table, something already told me that I would be discussing that by what I was going to hear that it would make my stomach twist and turn, and yet I kept my eyes trained on him I stayed exuded expectance. His head slumped and he ran his fingers through his hair breaking through the strands until they came out the other side and were positioned below his chain to support his entire head. “You are not my father’s first victim,” It was a store time refused to move, and yet ironically millennium passed though it took a moment or two for my mind to reboot after what I just heard, I licked my top lip trying to drag out the silence for a little bit longer before I was able to rediscover my voice once again and snatch it away from the arms of shock. “Hayden, what do you mean by that?” He looked even more pained than I who had to hear the story he was going to tell, his mother had died at a young age. Afterwards, his father would go searching for women who bore similar characteristics. I was a brunette and so was his wife though she was blue-eyed and I wasn’t. Nevertheless, that was enough for him. He had other women, maybe he was trying to hide just to be creepy he was and he failed with the roundabout method he used to do so. Hayden mentioned about five women that he could remember, he told me to also remain open-minded to the fact that there might have been other women but they just didn’t manage to pass the threshold. All of them had two qualifying factors. The first they must share a physical quality with their head wife, and the second was that they had to be young around the same age that she had died. “Amongst other things, this was what made me start cutting contact with that man, I couldn’t be the son of a man who was a predator,” Hayden paused and waited for me to digest what I had heard so far. It was a hard swallow if I was underestimating the whole situation, and a bitter pill if I was being honest. To think I wasn’t the first person he had it on with. I was just yet another woman that he sought to take advantage of. He was following a pattern he had established for years. All I had to do was think about it first can I knew I was walking towards the restroom and vomiting the apple that I had snagged out of the kitchen before I left. When I came out Hayden was waiting for me clearly troubled, I squinted my eyes to get a better look at him. I asked myself just how somebody so thoughtful and kind could come from the loins of a man who was anything but that. “I’m sorry,” I found myself falling back into the habit of endless apology, “I shouldn’t have overreacted like that,” He patted me on my shoulder with consideration. “If it makes you feel any better just know that you handle it more than most people could have,” I nodded and tried to believe him. Sometimes it felt like he was just flattering me, perhaps I was so used to being insulted that anything that diverged from that came forward to always provoke my walls. “I can’t go back there…” I confessed to Hayden when we went back to the table, about half an hour had already gone by.”I can’t willingly live under the same roof as your father anymore,” “That man isn’t my father, he’s just my sperm donor,” Hayden reached for my hand looking visually appalled that I would even suggest that. He wrapped my fingers within his giving them a soft but reassuring squeeze. “In that case… I’ll find a hotel room for you and…” I blinked my eyes exposing my surprise before my lips could deny it. “What’s wrong?” “I thought I was going to stay with you,” I mentioned flippantly, “… Or is it that you don’t want me to?” Immediately he shook his head, squeezing my fingers tighter without even realizing it. “Of course I’d–” He was interrupted by a notification on his phone. He checked it and looked at me, “The lawyer wants to meet now.”
Michelle’s pov The meeting with the lawyer felt surreal, like an out-of-body experience. It felt like I was just talking all this time and now I was finally acting. The lawyer was a voice attorney with at least 30 cases under her belt and she assured me that she would help me and I would get as much as I could out of this divorce and I was so thankful I turned it to Hayden and said “oh my gosh I can’t believe this is happening I never thought I could ever be free from your father” I realized that I was smiling too much, but no one in the room, or rather, the office, made fun of me. The lawyers spoke to me privately afterwards. She told me that this case would still be a little complicated because he was wealthy and well-connected and might try to pull some strings, but she was going to work to the best of her ability to help me. I was moved and touched so much it was the closest thing I’ve had to the interaction with a mother but I knew I had to keep things professional so I thanked her and she told me not to worry. After the meeting, while we were driving back to his vigor I asked Hayden how he wanted me to repay him for the hiring of the lawyer he said that’s it was a necessary for me to repay him I insisted crossing my arms maintaining my stands I couldn’t back down the last thing I wanted was to start a new life while I was once again in the debt of a man. I tensed by instinct I braved myself for an argument that I will sure was incoming but is response shocked me he said; “All right if this is what you need and it makes you feel control of your life then who am I to take it from you but if you’re decide to change your mind then don’t worry I’ll do what you say then as well so don’t hesitate if you have second thoughts because I have the money to spare and at least I can see right now that we’re friends right?” I thought the way shame clouded my face could I really say we were friends he was my stepson and I had almost slept with him and from the looks of things we were going to be living under the same roof again would it be easy to ignore the feelings that were cropping up inside my heart? If only he weren’t the son of the man who hurt me. What if I had met him before his father? Would my life have been different? These were the thoughts that inhabited my mind as the buildings blurred past and silence over took the conversation, closed my eyes with the frigid acceptance that even if I wanted it’s to be otherwise life had turned out this way nevertheless and know amount of wishful thinking was ever going to take it back I had to come to that acceptance when we arrived in his villa he took me to his guest room it was different everything was so different right now but I was taking one step at a time. “Thank you for all this,” I said appreciatively as I stepped into the room, “I promise Hayden I will repay you for it all,” “Take your time, let’s focus on what we need to do now. Since the petition has been filed that man will soon be served the papers. Knowing him he’s not going to back down easily,” I leaned on the doorway, of all the things that I have thought about none of them had ever crossed my mind involving Elliot holding me back from getting the divorce, huge part of me even imagine that he would be happy to be rid of me and live comfortably with Natasha since he showed me on more than one occasion that he was not interested in me anymore. “Do you think you’re really going to do that?” I asked tilting my head, “What I feel like you really kick against is giving me my fair compensation for all the years I wasted on him,” The last words slipped out with a coat of bitterness wrapped around and tight. “He’s definitely going to make an issue of that too,” Hayden agreed, “we’ve already talked about this enough for today…” He softly nudged me further into the room. “You should get some rest…” He turned around to leave when I reached forward grabbing his sleeve, his 6 ft plus frame tensed up but his eyes paused curiously came back to me. “Something wrong?” I was hungry, I wanted to tell him. I had been barely functioning with the apple I snatched in the morning. But I had been going on all higher mighty about being independent and not having to rely on him, but I couldn’t even arrange my own meal. Easy to say Independence was a long road ahead. “It’s nothing–”I tried to brush it off and then almost as if to expose me my stomach growled loud enough to wake up the dead. I released the sleeve of his shirt as a burning redness crossed my cheeks until my entire face looked like an overripe potato. “What should I make you?” He offered immediately. “Maybe I should make it myself,” I said cheeks still burning. He suddenly leaned close, close enough that his mint breath brushed my face. “Michelle…” Oh, darn, the way he says my name. “Can you ask for your whole unbiased trust would be too much right now, but still…” He paused reflectively, “I hope you don’t keep everything bottled up inside, even something as mundane as this. The only person who should be ashamed of themselves is that man, not you, okay?” I nodded, holding back tears as I whispered, “I’d like pancakes,”
Michelle POV They were already in the wardrobe when I opened it just to check how much space there was. Once again Hayden touched me with his thoughtfulness, reaching into the hollow pit that was once my heart. He got all these clothes for me, just for the chance that I might stay with him again and he needed to be prepared. Immediately I closed it, taking a deep breath calming myself down. Don’t…just don’t, I told the rapid pesky skipping of my heart. What happened between the two of us was just a flare of passion that neither of us wanted to control back then. It doesn’t mean anything else, and it shouldn’t either. I entered the bathroom that was attached assuming a shower was what I needed to cleanse my mind and at least wash away some of my tiredness down the drain. Then when I walked in, a giggle escaped me despite myself. There was everything a girl would need from shampoo to pads and tampons. There are even different sizes for the pads too. I stared at them, my eyes were beginning to gradually wet with tears. Did I deserve any of this? I asked myself as I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the shower, inside the artificial drizzle I could hear Elliott’s voice loud and clear as if he was right next to me his lips intensely pressed against my ear. “Don’t you think you are too demanding? I never knew I married such a gold digger,” And what I asked for was money to purchase pads. He scrunched up his face like I had just asked for his kidney. After grumbling for minutes he interrogated me, demanding to know what had happened with my monthly allowance. With my head bowed and my lips barely even moving I replied that he didn’t send the monthly allowance and I was working with what he gave me two months ago stretching it. His simmering anger reduced a little but not completely; “Well, you should have said something!” The way he suddenly belted his voice at me reminded me of my father and hot tears gathered in the corner of my eyes, now he softened a flicker of guilt passing by his eyes. He walked over embraced me and promised to send my allowance, but since I told him late in the night he insisted on driving to the convenience shop himself and getting it. I was worried about how that would turn out and told him not to worry but he put his foot down and when he was like that there was no getting through to him. About 30 minutes later he came back, crowding with his shoulders held up, and gave me the pads while I waited in the shower. I stared at them then carefully carried my eyes back to him. “These are adult diapers,” I told him surprised that I would even have to point it out. He raised one eyebrow, “So? Isn’t that just another name for pads?” “No, “I replied, “these might absorb the blood but–” “I can never do anything right when it comes to you!” He yelled at the top of his voice and slammed the pads on the ground. “There’s always one issue another one it comes to you, nothing has ever been enough, is it?” Once again he was turning everything around on me. Deep down inside I knew it wasn’t my fault, but unfortunately when my lips moved the only thing they could manage to say was an apology. Now I knew that it was more than just the pads. It was his need for control, diminishing everyone’s, and turning every discussion into an argument so that I was afraid to say my mind. That way I would be easier to mold. If I doubted every worry that came past my lips, if nothing seemed to be worth the trouble when it came to me then I would just bend over for whatever he suggested. Elliot was served the papers within the week, and next I knew he was blowing up my phone with calls and messages. The messages ranged from confused to annoyed, I could tell that he was still not taking me seriously and assumed I was doing this out of petty jealousy with the hopes of getting his attention. Finally, he asked to meet. I discussed this with my lawyer and Hayden first, Miss Cobblestone, my lawyer told me that if we could agree amongst ourselves then the proceedings of the divorce would move more smoothly than if we had to contest it in court. Because of that I decided to meet with him face-to-face. Hayden was deeply worried. “What if he tries to gaslight you again?” He said on the morning of the meeting, I pursed my lips thoughtfully together, I had done my own research about divorce cases in my spare time and found out that a disturbingly large number of couples ended up reconciling and forgetting about divorce altogether. And this was a man who had actively convinced me for years that every little want I had in my heart was unnecessary and vain. He might just do so again. “I’m tired of running away from my problems, Hayden…” I told him as I adjusted my top. These days I was dressing the way I wanted, eating food that made my tongue explode with flavor and happiness… These were the small easy steps I was making every day, I wanted to believe. I called Elliot, told him that I was ready to meet up. His voice came coarsely through the phone. “I have a meeting this morning, we’ll have to reschedule… Let’s see around 11:00,” He was doing it again, I was extending an Olive branch that he didn’t even deserve by agreeing to this meeting and yet he was still trying to make a fool out of me. “No,” I replied firmly, “we either meet by the time we have already agreed on or through our lawyers, make your choice.”
Michelle’s pov I was already juggling a lot in my mind, so at first, I didn’t pay attention to the place that he asked us to meet. But then, when I walked up and noticed the ambience, the trickle of customers, and the smell of caffeine that loitered in the air and infiltrated my senses, I remembered. This was where we met. Where does it all start? And there he was sitting on the very same table where I would glance at him, and my heart would flutter foolishly. I clutched onto my bag and my courage. Instead of that flush of nostalgia he probably thought I was experiencing right now, there was nothing but regret. I was at the top of my class I had dreams of going to college, and with how hard I worked, I could have made it. By now, I would have been a graduate, possibly with a job. Maybe not in the economy, but still. It would have been my life. And he took that away from me. I walked over and sat across from him, avoiding all eye contact. “Let’s make this quick,” I said snappily. He didn’t respond at first, just kept his eyes on me as though he was trying to recognize a stranger. “Have you added weight?” He spat out before I was even comfortably seated, and my fingers tightened around the purse I held. It wasn’t his words alone but the volume of disgust that they carried when he spoke. I already came with my expectations low, after all he had decided at the last minute that he was only going to tell me about his appointment when I was already ready to leave but that was the first barrier I had thrown down. Instead of letting him drag me around like a ragdoll I stated my mind that if he could not meet at that time then we would only meet through our lawyers and to my surprise after some grumbling he actually agreed. I guess he surrendered that moment because he believed that by calling me here I would be moved by the memories and instantly be wrapped around his fingers again. If only he knew that the girl he had manipulated was no longer here. That was no issue because I had every intention to show him. “Not that it’s any of your business but yes I have, and I’ll be adding even more with time…” His eyes bulged with horror. “This is exactly why we can’t get a divorce, look at what you’re doing to yourself because that foolish son of mine… ” The neutral line on my lips curved downwards into a frown and I slammed my palm on the table. “I won’t sit here and listen to you insult hidden so you either choose to be civil or I leave now…” That shut him up for the moment but his eyes were still bulging I guess he was surprised that I was raising my voice at him, I don’t think he has ever even heard my voice at this volume before, and neither had I. He looked deep in thought, and when he opened his mouth to speak I realized that it was not because he was actually reflecting on his actions like any other person with a speck of conscious would. Rather, like a hunter he was simply recalibrating and positioning himself to make another shot at his prey. “Michelle, my love, let’s not do this… Aren’t you moved to be in the very place that we met surely this could thaw your frozen heart a bit?” I bit the inside of my mouth trying to hold myself back from snapping at him, during the drive here in the cab I had stopped I imagined myself arriving elegantly and leaving in the same manner. But in only a few seconds he had me speaking at the top of my voice, yelling like a maniac. As for him he still looked unruffled, once again treating me as nothing more than a child. How on earth did I even find this romantic before? I regained my composure sitting straight and meeting his eyes this time. “Elliot I came here so we wouldn’t need to have this conversation in court. I have every intention of taking its day if you keep treating me like a joke,” He chuckled, and a vein in my forehead popped. “So you want to go ahead with this prank till the end? Fine, I’ll humor you… What do you want?” I had already recited it in front of the mirror this morning for extra confidence so the same words were played on my lips as he maintained an unreadable expression all through then when I was done he burst into laughter he kept going at it until he was brushing aside a teardrop from the corner of his eye. “Is that all?” He sneered at me sarcastically. I sprang up from my seat, “I think I’ve tolerated you enough, Elliot..” I turned to leave but he grabbed my wrist, his touch on my body hit me with a wave of revulsion and instantly I retrieved control of my limb. “Don’t ever touch me again,” I warned him, once again failing to keep my voice at an elegant volume but he had already tested me so much that I was hardly even caring about that anymore. “Sit down…” “I don’t want to sit down anymore. Since you don’t want to take me seriously, there is no need to have this conversation. I’ll see you in court,” he said. I followed behind him as I tried to keep a distance between us until we were even outside the coffee shop. As I was about to enter a cab, he was a few steps away, and then he screamed enough. “Even if I wanted to give you anything, it’s impossible,” That piqued my curiosity beyond my anger, “and why is that?” He smirked confidently, “You’ve already signed a prenup, that’s why.”
Michelle’s POV My pupils dilated. What the hell was he talking about? A prenup? What even was that? My forehead creased as I tried to figure out what he meant and why he’d even think of bringing it up. Was he making this up just to get me back? Did he really think it would work that way? After dragging me here, after I refused to get swept up in the memories he thought would trap me, he still had the guts to pile on some new lies? I narrowed my eyes at him while making my expression sharp enough to demand an explanation from him. “Come on, Michelle, don’t be like that… You know what I’m talking about.” His voice was soft, almost seductive. Ugh! As if that would work on me anymore. The girl that would have fawned over that voice was no more. That was the old Michelle.. the one who fell hard for his childish games, but that girl was dead and buried,I made sure of that I glanced back at the taxi I had hailed and sighed. I needed to leave now. My head was spinning in a way that made me nauseated plus I couldn’t keep the man waiting. I started to sit down, but Elliot grabbed my wrist, yanking me back from the taxi door. What the hell was his problem now? “Let me go!” I snapped, but he only smirked, that same devious curl of his lips that always made me sick. Seeing that he had no intention of letting me go, I had no choice but to wave the taxi off. Shaking his hand off my wrist, I clutched my bag tightly, anger bubbling inside me as I tilted my head and glared. “What do you want?” My voice was cold. “You, Michelle. You need to stop this whole drama now.” His tone was low, pleading almost. When he tried to reach for my hand again with that ridiculous bedroom gaze, I recoiled. How shameless could he be? Flaunting the face he once wore in the dark now out here in broad daylight. How in God’s name had I fallen for this disgusting man? How had I ever called that love? “Stop this whole drama and come back to me,” he muttered again. I straightened my shoulders. “We’ll need to involve our lawyers since we couldn’t come to an agreement on our own.” “I can permit you inviting lawyers because If you choose to use them, it’ll make things even easier for me.” I froze. What did he mean? How was dragging our lawyers into this easier than the two of us agreeing? I could never understand this man. And honestly, I didn’t want to anymore. I was done with him. No act, no performance, no manipulation would ever bring me back. I turned to leave, but his voice carried after me. “I’m serious, Michelle. There’s nothing I can do for you. What you’re asking for won’t ever happen. I’m sorry.” His tone wasn’t loud, but it was audible enough. And then came the words that made my heart stumble. “Don’t forget you signed the prenup.” I whipped around, staring at his expression. He meant it. I knew that look. That was his truth face, the one he only wore when he wasn’t lying. For a moment, my thoughts scattered. Then they came crashing down on me. My throat closed up. I couldn’t breathe. I choked on my own saliva as the realization slammed into me. Yes. I had signed some documents with Elliot. I did. But I hadn’t realized he would ever use them against me. Not now. Not after everything. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. There had to be a way around this. Something. Anything. I would not stay tied to this man. “Michelle, you don’t have to be in pain. You’ve been with me for years now, and you love me,” he whispered. His voice made my skin crawl. My hands clenched into fists so tight my nails dug deep into my palms. “What you feel for Hayden and what he feels for you is just infatuation. The only person you’ve ever truly loved is me.” His words lit a fire in me. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. My fists trembled, fury coursing through me. He was always good at pushing me to my limit, trying to steal my calm. But not this time. Without another word, I spun on my heel, moving fast so he had no chance to grab me again. As I put distance between us, the tears I’d been holding back spilled freely. Elliot was tormenting my life. Even with other women in his bed, he refused to let me go. Why? He didn’t even love me. I sniffed hard and quickened my pace. I knew he was behind me, but I didn’t care to check. At the curb, I stopped another taxi and jumped in before he could catch me again. “Where are you heading, miss?” the driver asked. I froze. I didn’t even know where to go. Elliot was about to ruin me completely. What if my lawyer couldn’t help? What if I really had to stay by his side for as long as he wished? My heart stuttered painfully as fresh tears ran down my face. Just then, my phone lit up. An unknown number. No ID. My chest tightened but I still answered. And then I heard his voice. The one voice that dulled the ache pounding inside me. Hayden. A shaky breath left me, but another ache rose inside. What if his father never allowed us to be together? “Are you there?” His voice came again when I didn’t respond fast enough. “Yes…” I whispered, my voice so low I wasn’t even sure he heard. But he did. “Okay. How did it go?” “It was Okay.” I tried to lie but he saw right through it “Michelle, your voice doesn’t sound right. Do you want to come over?” His concern nearly broke me. If I’d known it was him, I probably wouldn’t have answered. But of course, he’d thought of that and that was why he was calling me from a different number. I should have refused. But I couldn’t. Not when I needed him this badly. “Miss, you still haven’t told me where you’re going,” the driver said again, a hint of impatience in his tone. I made up my mind. I had to see Hayden. I needed him to calm the storm raging inside me. With him, maybe I could think straight. Maybe I could find a way to fight back. “Let’s meet at a café,” I told Hayden and he instantly agreed. I could practically feel his excitement even over the phone. And I felt the same too. For the first time since I’d walked away from Elliot, my chest loosened and I could breathe again. I gave the driver my destination, and he nodded before pressing down on the gas. As I looked down at my phone, a new notification popped up. I tapped it and instantly, a bead of sweat rolled down my forehead despite the AC blasting inside the car.
Michelle’s POV I sat frozen in the back of the taxi with the engine humming faintly under me, but I couldn’t even hear it anymore. My whole focus was on the bright little rectangle in my hand. My phone screen glared at me like it wanted to burn holes through my eyes. No. No, no, no. please God no. My throat tightened as sweat started to gather at the back of my neck. The words in the notification blurred in and out of focus because my eyes kept stinging, but I forced myself to read them again. From Miss Cobblestone: Dear Mrs Winter. Mr Elliot Winter has sent his lawyer with a response to the divorce papers we sent him. He has agreed to the divorce. But he intends to enforce the prenup you agreed to. You will have to return everything he ever gave you and he will be free from any obligation he owes you. My stomach dropped so violently I almost doubled over. Prenup again. That wicked word alone had destroyed my day and made my skin crawl. My lips trembled as I whispered to myself, “He said I agreed to the prenup? But I never—” I was trying to calm my mind but my brain screamed at me to stop lying to myself. It didn’t matter whether I verbally agreed to it or not, the fact was that, I had signed it, so that probably meant it was valid. But this wasn’t fair! Elliot had just reminded me about the prenup. Literally, just minutes ago in front of that cursed café, he’d smirked and reminded me that I had signed it. I didn’t want to believe him then. I told myself he was bluffing, trying to scare me into crawling back like some pathetic wife. But now… this message… “Oh God,” I whispered. My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone. I pressed the call button, my thumb stabbing at Miss Cobblestone’s name like it was my only lifeline. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Then her soft, professional voice answered, “Hello? Mrs Michelle? Are you okay?” “No,” I gasped, almost choking on the word. “I—I just saw your message. What the hell is he talking about? I have to give everything up? That can’t be right. I never agreed to anything like that. I wouldn’t be that stupid!” On the other end, Miss Cobblestone let out a careful sigh, like she was trying to be gentle with a panicked child. “Michelle… I have to ask you something important. Did you truly sign a prenuptial agreement or any document like that before your marriage?” My breath hitched. Her words slammed into me like a physical blow. Signed. A document like a prenup. I swallowed hard, my chest heaving as I recalled a memory. I could see Elliot’s smug face flashed before me and his voice was replaying in my head from earlier: You signed it, Michelle. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I felt dread curl in my gut like an icy snake. My lips barely moved as I whispered, “He… he told me I did. Just today, he told me I signed it.” “Michelle…” Miss Cobblestone’s voice softened even further. “Elliot’s team just sent me a copy of the prenup. I’ve looked at it. It’s real. It’s legally binding. You won’t even have a cent to your name of you divorce him.” The phone nearly slipped from my hand. My ears rang. My vision went fuzzy. Elliot wasn’t bluffing. He was really doing it. Just minutes after smirking in my face, he’d sent his lawyers to crush me flat. Tears stung my eyes, blurring the taxi window as I croaked, “But… but he tricked me! Five years ago, he brought a document but he told me it wasn’t real. He said it was just a mock prenup, something for show. He swore he would never use it. He promised me, Miss Cobblestone. He—he—” Her voice came back, low and tinged with sadness. “Michelle… I’m so sorry. But this isn’t a mock document. It’s official. And if this divorce proceeds, the court will enforce it.” “No,” I whimpered. “No, that’s not fair! After everything I’ve been through with him? After everything he’s done to me? How can he take everything?” “I understand your pain,” she said softly. “But as it stands, yes, he can. You will have to return everything he gave you. All gifts, all assets. That includes clothing, jewelry—” “Wait,” I cut her off, panic clawing at my throat. “Clothes? Jewelry? That’s literally all I have! I gave up everything for him! I had a future—God, I was top of my class! I had plans. And he convinced me to throw it all away so I could… so I could be his little housewife.” My voice cracked, a sob breaking free. The lawyer was quiet for a moment before she said softly, “Michelle… there’s something else.” My blood went cold. “…What else?” “I’ve gone through the prenup carefully. It states that you are also responsible for your own student debt.” The words hit me like a truck. “What?” My voice rose hysterically. “That can’t be right. Elliot promised me—he swore he paid all of that off when I graduated! He said it was handled. He told me I didn’t have to worry about it anymore!” “I’m sorry,” Miss Cobblestone said quietly. “But his lawyers were very clear. Elliot never paid it off. He misled you. That debt is still in your name.” I couldn’t breathe. “How much is it?” I whispered. “How much do I owe?” “About three hundred thousand dollars.” The phone shook violently in my hands as my chest caved in. Three hundred thousand?! I barely had $200 dollars to my name! “Oh my God. Oh my God, no. He—he made me stay at home, he made me give up my career, and now he’s dumping me with debt I thought was gone?” My voice broke. “He destroyed me, Miss Cobblestone. He destroyed my life!” On the other end, I heard her sigh, and there was a pause before she said gently, “Michelle… I feel terrible telling you this. I will keep looking for a way around it, I promise. I’ll call you if I find a loophole. But right now, the prenup is valid.” That was it. I broke down right there in the back of the taxi, sobbing into my hand as people on the street blurred outside the window. My whole body shook with the weight of it. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have fallen for him?
Michelle’s pov How could I have been so stupid? How could I have fallen for him? Yes, I was barely eighteen when we met and He was nearly forty, was that why I had foolishly let myself trust him? Or was I swept in with his wealth, his experience, his smooth words, and thought it was love. I had had honestly thought he wanted me. But no. He’d been playing me from the very beginning. Setting me up like a piece in his game. “God, I wish I’d never met him,” I whispered through my tears. “I wish I’d never fallen for him.” “Ma’am?” The taxi driver’s deep voice startled me. I looked up with blurry eyes. He turned slightly in his seat, giving me a sympathetic look. “We’ve arrived. The café you asked for.” My heart sank again. Right. The café. I quickly fumbled for my wallet, my hands trembling, and shoved cash at him. “Keep the change,” I whispered, desperate to get out before I completely fell apart. I stumbled out of the taxi, the cool air hitting my damp face like a slap. My chest still hurt from crying, and I wiped at my cheeks quickly, trying to erase the mess I’d become. Because I wasn’t here for me. I was here to meet Hayden. My stepson. The son of the man who ruined my life. God, what a joke. I looked at the cozy café entrance, my stomach twisting. I wasn’t in the mood for this. Wasn’t this the same stunt Elliott pulled? Taking me to a Café from our past? This was all too much. I couldn’t sit there smiling like everything was okay when inside, I was crumbling. Hayden had already seen me cry once before. I couldn’t let him see it again. Not today. I turned on my heel, scanning the street for another cab. Maybe if I left now, I could go curl up in my apartment, fall apart in peace. I raised my hand to flag one down when I heard it— “Michelle.” That deep, masculine voice stopped me dead in my tracks. I froze, every nerve in my body tingling. Slowly, I turned. And there he was. Hayden. Tall, broad-shouldered, his jaw tight as his sharp eyes locked on me. He looked devastating in a casual shirt and jeans, his presence towering over everyone around him. He saw my face. And instantly, he rushed forward. “Michelle—” He grabbed my arms, steadying me as his eyes scanned me with panic. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I tried to look away, but his warmth seeped through me. His hug was solid, grounding, and for a split second, I felt… safer. Like maybe I wasn’t completely alone. But I couldn’t let him see that, because he was still my stepson after all. “I’m fine,” I croaked, forcing a weak smile. “Really, I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Don’t lie to me. Your voice sounded terrible over the phone. And now this? What did my father say to you? The meeting didn’t go well, did it?” My throat closed up. Images of Elliot’s smirk in the café flooded my head. His words. The prenup. The crushing weight of knowing he’d stolen everything from me. And then Miss Cobblestone’s voice, confirming it. All of it spun inside me like a tornado. “I—” I tried to speak, but the room tilted. My knees wobbled, and my vision darkened around the edges. “Michelle? What’s wrong? You look pale!” Hayden’s voice sharpened, full of alarm. I tried to speak but words didn’t come out. The world blurred. And then everything went black as I heard his panicked shout— “Michelle! Stay with me!” … The first thing I felt was the heaviness in my eyelids. It was like someone had poured wet sand over them, weighing them down, refusing to let me open them. My body felt strange too—light in some ways, heavy in others, like I was floating and sinking all at once. Then the sterile smell hit me. Bleach. Antiseptic. Clean but suffocating. My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked up at a white ceiling dotted with square panels and a flickering fluorescent light. For a second, I had no idea where I was. My heart started racing as I pushed myself up slightly and looked around. Pale curtains. Monitors beeping softly. A drip bag hanging on a pole beside me. A hospital. I was in a hospital. “What the—” I whispered under my breath, disoriented. Before I could fully panic, voices drifted through the curtain. “…she’s under a lot of stress,” a calm male voice said. A doctor. “That’s why she fainted. What she needs right now is rest.” My chest tightened, but I froze, not wanting to move. Then came another voice. Deeper. Familiar. Hayden. “I understand,” he said, his tone steady but laced with worry. “I’ll make sure she rests.” My lips parted slightly as I lay there, listening. He sounded… serious. Like he was actually going to make this his mission. “Good,” the doctor replied. “And for support, I recommend some vitamins. Stress takes a toll on the immune system. Keeping her nourished will help.” There was a beat of silence. Then Hayden asked, “Which ones should I get? Can you write me a list?” My chest ached at the quiet urgency in his voice. I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. Elliott never once asked a doctor what he could do to help me when I was sick. No. Elliott used to get annoyed. If I caught the flu, he’d roll his eyes and tell me not to “milk it.” If I got a migraine, he’d mutter that I was always “dramatic.” The one time I got food poisoning, he left me on the bathroom floor and went golfing. He’d only ever shown irritation. Never concern. But Hayden? He was practically begging for a damn shopping list of vitamins. God… he was nothing like his father.
Michelle’s Pov I wasn’t sure how to process this thought. I shouldn’t be comparing father and son but I couldn’t help it. Elliott used to get annoyed whenever I got sick. If I even caught the flu, he’d roll his eyes and tell me not to “milk it.” If I got a migraine, he’d mutter that I was always “dramatic.” The one time I got food poisoning, he left me on the bathroom floor and went golfing. He’d only ever shown irritation. Never concern. But Hayden? He was practically begging for a damn shopping list of vitamins and trying to find ways to make me get better. God… he was nothing like the monster his father. He was the opposite, really… He was too good to be true. The doctor’s voice broke through my thoughts. “The most important thing is rest. Don’t let her push herself right now.” Rest. I nearly scoffed out loud. Rest? Seriously? Did this man not understand that my life had just imploded? I didn’t have the luxury of lying in bed like some delicate flower. Elliot had gutted me completely. He had destroyed me financially and emotionally. He had taken everything from me. I had nothing left now. No safety net. No plan. No hope. So rest wasn’t an option. Survival was. I clenched my fists under the blanket. If I stayed here, I’d only spiral more. Heck! I didn’t even have the money to pay for a hospital fee. I had to get out now, but I had to do it sneakily so that Hayden wouldn’t find out, because if he saw me leaving, he’d force me to stay and get the medical help that I couldn’t even afford now. So with that thought in mind, I waited until I heard the doctor’s footsteps retreat, the soft shuffle of shoes fading down the hall. Then I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold beneath my feet, sending a shiver up my spine, but I didn’t care. I spotted my purse on the chair in the corner, grabbed it, and quietly slipped the straps over my shoulder. I glanced at the IV still taped to my arm and winced. Pulling it out wasn’t pretty, but I yanked it free, gritting my teeth at the sting. A tiny spot of blood welled up. I pressed a tissue to it and muttered, “Good enough.” Then I tiptoed toward the door, my heart hammering. I reached for the handle— “Where do you think you’re going?” I froze. That voice. Low. Firm. Way too close. Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was—Hayden, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His tall frame practically blocked the entire exit, and his eyes were narrowed right at me. Crap. I pasted on a weak smile. “Oh. Hey. I was just… going to get some fresh air.” “Fresh air?” His brow arched. “At midnight? In a hospital gown?” I glanced down at myself. Damn it. I hadn’t even noticed. I was still in the thin, pale-blue gown, the ties loose at my back. Totally not subtle. “I..I was going to change first,” I stammered, clutching my purse tighter. He pushed off the doorframe and took a step closer. “Michelle, don’t play games. You were about to sneak out.” My chest tightened. “So what if I was? I don’t need to be here.” “Yes, you do.” His tone sharpened. “You fainted. In the middle of the street. Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I caught you?” I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “I’m fine now.” “No, you’re not.” He took another step forward, and I instinctively stepped back, my heels bumping against the hospital bed. “You’re pale. You’re exhausted. You’re barely holding yourself together. And you think running out of here is going to help?” His words dug into me, but I forced my chin up. “I don’t have a choice, Hayden. Rest isn’t in the cards for me. Not now. Not after everything Elliot just—” I cut myself off, my voice breaking before I could say more. Hayden’s expression softened slightly, but his jaw stayed tight. “I know my father hurt you. I know what he’s done. But you can’t fix any of it if you collapse again. You need to take care of yourself first.” “I don’t have that luxury,” I snapped, my voice rising before I could stop it. “Do you even get what he’s done to me? He’s stripped me of everything, Hayden. Every single thing. He made me give up my career, my future, and now he’s leaving me with nothing but debt. Debt I didn’t even know I still had! And you want me to lie down and rest?” My hands trembled around my purse straps as tears burned hot in my eyes. “If I stop moving, I’ll drown.” Hayden didn’t flinch. He just stood there, letting my words spill out, his gaze locked on mine like he could see straight through me. When I finally fell silent, choking back tears, he stepped closer and gently took the purse from my shaking hands. “You’re not drowning,” he said quietly. “Not while I’m here.” The lump in my throat nearly suffocated me. I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. But I’d believed promises before. And look where that got me. “Hayden…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please. Just let me go.” His grip tightened on my purse, and he shook his head firmly. “No. You’re staying. Even if I have to sit in that chair all night to make sure of it.” I stared at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The part of me that wanted to scream, to fight, to run clawed at my insides. But another part of me which was the tired, broken part almost melted at the stubborn protectiveness in his eyes. Elliott would never have stood there like that. Elliott would’ve held the door open for me to leave. Hell, he would’ve probably driven me himself just to get me out of his way. But Hayden? Hayden wasn’t moving.
Michelle’s POV The longer I stood there facing Hayden, the more the weight in my body began to drag me down. My shoulders slumped, my legs felt weak, and the stubborn fire inside me began to wane It was the one who had been screaming at me to run but it was now flickering out. I was so damn tired. Tired of fighting Elliot. Tired of crying. Tired of pretending I was fine when my whole life was crumbling. And Hayden… Hayden wasn’t moving. His arms were folded across his chest, his tall frame blocking the door like some immovable wall. He wasn’t raising his voice, wasn’t demanding, wasn’t harsh. He was just there. Steady. Unshakable. I let out a long sigh, dropping my gaze to the floor. “Fine,” I muttered, my voice small. “You win.” When I glanced up again, his expression softened. He stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against my arm. “I’m not trying to win against you, Michelle. I just don’t want you to collapse again.” Something in his tone made my chest ache. It wasn’t pity, it was care. Genuine care. Something I hadn’t felt in years. Before I could argue again, he gently took my purse out of my hands and set it back on the chair. Then, without asking, he slipped his arm around my shoulders. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get you back into bed.” I wanted to protest, to insist I didn’t need his help, but the truth was, leaning into him felt… safe. His body was warm, steady, and when I stumbled slightly, his arm tightened around me, keeping me upright. He guided me back to the bed like I weighed nothing, lowering me onto the mattress with surprising gentleness for someone his size. “Better?” he asked, crouching slightly so he was eye level with me. I pressed my lips together, then gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah… better.” He gave me a small smile, one that made my stomach do a nervous flip. Then he straightened, reached for the tray on the side table, and pulled it closer. “You need to eat something,” he said. “You haven’t had anything since…” He paused, frowning as though trying to recall. “Honestly, I don’t even know when.” I groaned softly, burying my face in my hands. “I’m not hungry.” “Well, too bad,” he said firmly. “You’re eating anyway.” I peeked at him through my fingers. “Are you seriously going to force-feed me?” “Yes.” He picked up the little bowl of soup the nurse must have left and lifted the spoon. “Open up.” I blinked at him, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Hayden—” “Don’t argue,” he cut in smoothly, holding the spoon out like I was a stubborn child. “Come on, Michelle. Humor me.” My face burned hotter. This was ridiculous. My stepson—my grown stepson—was trying to feed me like we were in some weird rom-com. But when he raised a brow, waiting patiently, I sighed and leaned forward reluctantly, opening my mouth. The warm soup slid over my tongue, and I couldn’t stop the small hum that slipped out. Damn it, it was good. “See?” Hayden smirked, spoon poised again. “Not so bad.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide the tiny smile tugging at my lips. “You’re insufferable.” “And yet, here you are, letting me feed you.” “Only because I don’t have the strength to fight you right now,” I shot back, though my voice wavered when he leaned closer, his eyes locked on mine. My cheeks warmed again as memories of that kiss flashed through my mind. I could still feel the heat, the intensity, the way I’d melted against him despite every voice in my head screaming that it was wrong. I tore my gaze away, reminding myself for the hundredth time: He’s your stepson. This cannot happen again. Every time he smiled at me like that, though, my resolve wavered. “Michelle?” His voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I blinked at him. “What?” He tilted his head slightly, studying me with concern. “Earlier… before you fainted. You sounded like you were crying. Why?” My stomach clenched. I looked down at the blanket twisted in my lap, running my fingers over the fabric to avoid his gaze. “It’s nothing.” “Michelle,” he said gently but firmly. “Don’t do that. Don’t brush it off. Talk to me.” I let out a shaky sigh, my chest tightening. “It’s just… divorcing your father isn’t going to be easy.” His jaw tensed instantly. “What do you mean?” I finally forced myself to meet his eyes. “He tricked me, Hayden. Five years ago, he made me sign a prenup. He told me it was fake, that it was just for show, that he’d never enforce it. But today… he did. He sent his lawyers, and now they’re saying I’ll lose everything. Every gift, every dime, even the clothes on my back. And worse…” My throat tightened, tears burning my eyes again. “He never paid off my student debt like he promised. So now, on top of having nothing, I owe everything.” Hayden’s expression darkened, fury flashing in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “That bastard.” “Hayden—” “No,” he cut me off, his voice low and sharp. “I can’t believe him. He actually did this to you? He—he lied to you, cheated on you, stole your future, and now he’s trying to strip you bare?!” The intensity in his tone made me shiver. He wasn’t angry at me. He was angry for me. And somehow, that meant more than I could put into words. I swallowed hard, whispering, “Yeah. He did.” Hayden’s chest rose and fell sharply, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and protectiveness. “I swear, Michelle… he’s not getting away with this. Not while I’m around.” I stared at him, my heart pounding, torn between the comfort of his words and the fear of what they meant for us both. Because Hayden wasn’t just anyone. He was my stepson. And despite everything telling me to keep my distance, sitting there in that hospital bed, watching the fire in his eyes… I realized part of me didn’t want to. Oh God, what was I going to do with this?
Michelle’s POV I couldn’t believe my ears. Natasha the high and mighty, the ever-smug, ever-mocking Natasha actually sounded scared of Hayden. Why? Her voice had dropped to a nervous tremor the moment she realized Hayden was on the line. I could almost picture her face, lips twitching nervously as her fake ass hell confidence cracked. But it actually startled me to hear her like this. Because the Natasha I knew feared no one… except apparently Hayden. “Give my father the fucking phone now!,” Hayden barked and his voice sounded like a whip crack. Natasha gasped. “H-he’s—he’s not here,” she stammered quickly, words tumbling out in a rush. “He’s… he’s downstairs, I swear. I’ll get him.” I blinked in shock. The same woman who used to smirk in my face and flaunt her relationship with Elliot was suddenly scrambling like a frightened child. Why was she so afraid of him? I glanced at Hayden, who stood there radiating calm authority, but under it, I could see the storm in his eyes. I whispered, “Why does she sound like that? How does she even know you?” His gaze flicked to me, unreadable. “I’ll tell you later,” he muttered, his jaw tight. Before I could push, the phone crackled again. Heavy footsteps, the faint sound of a man’s voice in the background. Then, finally, Elliot’s voice slid through the line. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, smug as ever. “I knew you’d come to your senses, Michelle. I knew eventually you’d come crawling back to me.” My chest tightened, and I felt heat rush up my neck. Crawling back? The sheer shameless arrogance in his tone made me want to hurl the phone across the room. Beside me, Hayden’s fists clenched, and I could feel his fury like a physical thing. But I forced myself to breathe, to speak steadily. “I’m not crawling back, Elliott. I’m calling because I want to negotiate our divorce.” There was silence for a heartbeat, then a low chuckle rumbled from him. “Negotiate? Michelle, you really are fucking delusional, aren’t you?” My hand shook against the blanket. “Don’t call me that.” “You signed the bloody prenup,” he reminded me smugly. “That means you’ll walk away with nothing. No house, no money, no assets. You’ll be right back where you started, no actually, worse than when you started. That’s the deal, sweetheart.” The words stabbed into me and it felt like the weight of them were raggingg me down like chains. He was right.. the godawful document I had signed in my naïve haze hung over me like a death sentence. I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, anger spiking through the distress. “You tricked me into signing it! You rushed me, you distracted me, you made sure I didn’t even know what I was agreeing to!” Elliott laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. “And that’s my fault? Please. You were just stupid enough to trust me. That’s not trickery, Michelle. That’s just you being naïve.” I bit down so hard on my lip I tasted blood. “You won’t get away with this,” I snapped, my voice trembling but fierce. “I won’t let you.” “And who exactly is going to stop me?” he sneered. “You have no one, Michelle. No lawyers worth a damn, no power, no leverage. You’re alone. You’ll always be alone against me.” Before I could fire back, Hayden’s voice cut through, cold and sharp. “She’s not alone.” The silence on the other end stretched, thick and stunned. Then Elliott’s voice roared through, laced with fury. “Hayden? What the hell are you doing there? Why are you with her? Are you ganging up with your step mother against me?!” Hayden didn’t flinch. His voice was like steel. “I’ve never accepted her as my stepmother. She’s just Michelle to me. And I’ll stand by her.” I gasped softly, my heart racing at his words. The blunt truth of them, the way he claimed me as woman and not as some awkward title forced by Elliot. Hayden was the only one who seemed to see me as myself and that made my chest ache in ways I wasn’t ready to confront. Elliott, however, exploded. “You ungrateful little bastard!” he thundered. “After everything I’ve done for you—” “Enough,” Hayden snapped, cutting him off with a force I’d never seen before. “You want to play dirty, fine. But tomorrow, you’re going to meet us for a negotiation. Face to face. No excuses.” “Negotiation?” Elliot spat the word like poison. “There’s nothing to negotiate! She signed the papers. It’s done.” Hayden’s voice dropped, ice-cold. “Tomorrow. One o’clock. You’ll be there, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” For the first time in years, I heard something in Elliot’s voice I’d never heard before: hesitation. A beat of silence. Then, through clenched teeth, “Fine. Tomorrow. But don’t think for a second this changes anything.” Hayden hung up before Elliott could say another word. The phone dropped onto the bed with a soft thud. My hands trembled, my heart raced, and all I could do was stare at Hayden in stunned silence. That fucking asshole of a man was really trying to destroy me!
Michelle’s POV I couldn’t believe I had ever fallen in love with such a monster. The phone slipped from Hayden’s hand onto the bed with a dull thud, but I could barely hear it over the blood rushing in my ears. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. My whole body felt like it was vibrating with anger, dread, humiliation. Elliot’s voice still rang in my head, smug and cruel, taunting me like it always had. Naïve. Alone. Worthless. I didn’t realize I was shaking until Hayden moved closer. “Michelle…” His voice was softer now, low and careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal. He reached out and gently pulled me toward him. I didn’t resist. The moment his arms wrapped around me, the dam inside me cracked. His chest was firm against my cheek, steady and solid, nothing like the storm raging inside me. He held me tight, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back, and for the first time all morning, I felt myself breathing again. “It’s okay,” he whispered against my hair. “He can’t hurt you. Not while I’m here.” My fingers clutched his shirt. It was ridiculous how safe I felt, like my body knew something my mind refused to admit. I tilted my head slightly, my eyes meeting his. His face was so close. Too close. His jaw tightened like he was fighting something, his eyes searching mine as if asking a question without words. And for one dangerous second, I thought—no, I knew—he was going to kiss me. Worse, I wanted him to. My lips parted on instinct, and his breath brushed mine, warm and inviting. My heart thundered in my chest, begging me to close the inch of space between us. But reality crashed back like a bucket of ice water. I jerked away, stumbling back until the cold air replaced the heat of his arms. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I—I can’t.” Hayden froze, pain flashing across his face before he quickly masked it. He swallowed hard, looking away like he’d been burned. Guilt gnawed at me instantly. I hated seeing that look on his face, hated that I’d let things go too far. But no matter how much comfort I found in him, no matter how much I longed for it… he was still my stepson. The son of the very man I was fighting to free myself from. It was too twisted. Too wrong. I wrapped my arms around myself and forced my voice to sound steadier than I felt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” “You don’t have to explain,” he cut in, his voice tight but controlled. “I crossed a line.” Silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. My chest ached from the weight of it, so I scrambled for a distraction. “Um,” I said quickly, my eyes darting anywhere but his face, “earlier—Natasha sounded terrified of you. How do you even know her?” Hayden blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift, but he sighed and leaned back against the dresser. “She… tried to work for me.” My brows shot up. “Work for you?” “She applied to be my assistant last year,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Came into the office all smiles, acting like she was God’s gift to the business world. But honestly? She was unprofessional as hell. Late to the interview, dressed like she was going to a nightclub instead of an office. I didn’t even bother considering her.” I couldn’t help the little gasp that left me. “She tried to be your assistant?” Hayden nodded, smirking slightly. “And when I told her no, she looked at me like I’d just slapped her.” The image of Natasha, usually so smug and full of herself, being rejected by Hayden, made me almost laugh despite myself. “Wait,” I said slowly, connecting dots, “you don’t think she was trying to… seduce you, do you?” His ears actually turned red. He coughed, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s just say… I had that impression.” My jaw dropped. “Oh my god. She actually tried?” Hayden groaned, covering his face with his hand. “She cornered me after the interview. Said something ridiculous like—‘I could give you special attention if you reconsider.’” I burst out laughing, unable to hold it back. The thought of Natasha throwing herself at Hayden, only to be turned down flat, was too good. “And what did you do?” I asked between giggles. “I told her,” he said, finally lowering his hand and looking half-amused, half-exasperated, “‘If by special attention you mean distracting me with incompetence, then congratulations—you’ve fucking already nailed it.’” I snorted, clapping a hand over my mouth. “You didn’t!” “I did,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “She stormed out, red as a tomato. I figured that was the end of it.” But it wasn’t. Because not long after, she’d somehow wormed her way into my father’s life. My smile faded, the laughter dying on my lips. “Then… why him? If she wanted you first, why would she settle for Elliott?” Hayden’s expression darkened. “She probably didn’t do it by choice.” He said and I frowned in confusion. Hayden sighed and continued. “I said that because that’s what my father does. He knows how to pull people in. He probably seduced her before she even realized it was happening.” I shivered, my stomach twisting. “How?” Hayden’s gaze met mine, steady but filled with something sharp. “He makes people feel seen. Like they’re special. He showers them with attention, compliments, gifts. And then, when they’re hooked, he starts pulling the strings. By the time they realize what’s happening, it’s too late. He’s already in control.” My throat went dry. Because every word he said… was exactly what had happened to me. I remembered being that wide-eyed eigtheen-year-old, flattered that an older, successful man noticed me. Elliot had told me I was brilliant, mature, beautiful, destined for more than just the ordinary. He’d promised to take care of me, to handle my debts, to make me his priority. And I’d believed him. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, the truth cutting deep. Natasha wasn’t just some opportunistic mistress. She’d been played, too. Young. Naïve. Manipulated by the same man who had ensnared me. I wanted to hate her, I did. God knows she’d made my life hell. But for the first time, I saw her not just as a rival, but as another pawn in Elliott’s twisted game. Hayden must have seen the conflict on my face because he stepped closer again, his voice softer. “Michelle… I know you want to hate her. And maybe she deserves some of it. But she’s just another victim of his manipulation. Like you were.” I swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “But she—she flaunted it. She enjoyed hurting me.” “Because she thought that made her powerful,” Hayden said gently. “She doesn’t even realize she’s just another piece on his board. But I promise you—I’ll do my best to help both of you. You, and even her.” I looked up at him then, really looked at him. His eyes were steady, full of conviction, no trace of hesitation. Elliot had broken me down piece by piece over the years, made me believe I was nothing without him. But Hayden? He was building me back up, brick by brick, with nothing more than his words, his actions, his faith in me. And in that moment, I knew. Hayden wasn’t just some accidental comfort. He was godsent. But the problem was… could I accept him? Was I even allowed to accept him?
Michelle’s POV I thought Hayden would relax after the call ended, but I was so wrong; if anything, he doubled down more. The next morning before I was discharged, he insisted the doctors run “every possible test” on me. Blood work, scans, vitals, and many more things I didn’t even know existed. “Hayden,” I groaned, sitting on the hospital bed while another nurse drew blood. “I feel fine. You’re acting like I broke every bone in my body.” He crossed his arms, looming in the corner like some overprotective bodyguard. “You fainted, Michelle. That’s not ‘fine.’ That’s your body screaming for help.” I rolled my eyes, though secretly I liked the way he cared. “My body was screaming because you stressed me out with that phone call.” He gave me a flat look. “Don’t blame me. Blame him.” The nurse chuckled and slipped out with the vials of blood. I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible. I promise, I’m okay. Can we please go now?” “Not until the doctor clears you,” he said firmly. And just like that, I realized I wasn’t going to win. Not against him. When the doctor finally came in and assured him I was only dealing with stress and exhaustion, Hayden still peppered him with questions. “Should she be taking vitamins? Extra iron? What about supplements? Is there something to help with her energy—” “Hayden!” I cut him off, laughing. “You’re embarrassing me. I’m not eighty years old. I don’t need supplements and vitamins like a grandma.” He glanced at me, and though he looked dead serious, I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch like he was fighting a smile. Once I was finally discharged, he took my bag from me before I could even think about carrying it and guided me out of the hospital like I was made of glass. “Where to?” I asked as we stepped into the sunlight. “My place.” He opened the car door for me like a gentleman. I frowned, sliding into the seat. “Hayden, I can get a hotel. Really. I don’t want to invade your space longer than I already have.” His jaw tightened. “No hotel. You’re staying with me.” I tried again. “But—” “No buts,” he said, shutting the door before I could argue. I sighed. There was no winning this fight. And maybe a small, shameful part of me was relieved. At his place, he put me back in the guest room but, to my surprise, brought in a blanket and pillow and threw them onto the couch. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Sleeping here.” “In the guest room?” I blinked. “Yeah.” He shrugged, setting his pillow down like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Just in case you need something. I’ll be right here.” I stared at him, my heart twisting. He had no idea how much that meant. How much it hurt too. Because as I watched him fuss with the blanket, a sharp pang of jealousy hit me. Whoever he ended up marrying, whoever got to have this side of him forever was the luckiest woman alive. Damn it! The thought hurt so much I had to shove it away, bury it deep, and force myself to sleep. The next morning, the smell of coffee woke me. I stumbled into the kitchen to find Hayden already at the stove, flipping pancakes like some domestic dream. I groaned. “You’re doing it again.” He didn’t even look at me. “Doing what?” “Not letting me lift a finger. I can cook, you know.” “Sit,” he ordered, nodding toward the stool by the counter. “Breakfast is almost ready.” I pouted, plopping onto the stool. “You’re spoiling me. I’m going to get used to this.” He turned then, sliding a plate in front of me with a grin. “Maybe that’s the point.” I blinked, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Hayden…” He smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. “What? I’m just saying, don’t fight it.” I hid my face behind my coffee cup, muttering, “You’re impossible.” The hours melted away too quickly, and before I knew it, 1 p.m. was staring us down like a looming shadow. Hayden dressed in a crisp shirt, looking sharp and intimidating. I felt underdressed in comparison, even though I’d chosen my nicest blouse. My hands shook as I tried to smooth the wrinkles out of my skirt. Hayden caught my fidgeting and touched my hand gently. “Hey. Don’t worry. I’m beside you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. His steady presence grounded me, and I clung to that as we drove to the restaurant. We arrived early, of course. Hayden always liked being in control. He chose a booth in the corner, facing the entrance, his eyes scanning the room like a hawk. We waited. And waited. Elliott arrived late, which was definitely done on purpose, I was sure of it. He strolled in with that smug smile plastered on his face, every step designed to remind us he was in charge. He slid into the seat across from us, leaning back leisurely. “Well, well. Looks like the happy little rebels beat me here.” I stiffened, but Hayden’s jaw clenched so hard I thought he might break a tooth. Then Elliott’s eyes flicked between us, narrowing. He smirked. “Tell me, Michelle… how long have you been seducing my son behind my back?” The words hit like a slap. My stomach dropped. Hayden shot forward, fists clenched on the table. “Don’t you dare—” “Hayden!” I cut him off quickly, my hand grabbing his arm. My voice shook but I forced myself to sound calm. “Don’t. That’s exactly what he wants. He’s trying to rile us up so we’ll lose control of our minds.” Elliot’s stupid smirk widened, satisfied, but I held Hayden’s gaze, silently begging him to stay calm. Hayden trembled with fury, but slowly—reluctantly, he leaned back, breathing hard. I squeezed his arm once more, grateful, before letting go. Elliot just sat there, smug and composed, as if he hadn’t just tried to set fire to the table.
Michelle’s POV The restaurant felt too polished and nice for a conversation like this. The white tablecloths, the faint clinking of glasses, and the low hum of polite chatter were all lovely. It was the kind of place where people sealed business deals and made proposals to their loved ones, not where marriages were falling apart or where husbands cheated their wives. So it was a little ironic that my life was crashing down in a place like this. My palms sweated against the linen napkin in my lap, but I forced myself to keep my chin high. Eliot leaned back in his chair, smug and perfectly composed, as though he’d been waiting for me to squirm. His eyes lingered on me far too long before shifting to Hayden like he owned both of us. I swallowed hard and pushed down my nerves. “Eliot,” I said softly, willing my voice not to shake. “Can we please… just find a way to have an amicable divorce? No games, no hostility, no drama. Just peace. We can both walk away with our dignity.” His jaw flexed, and the smugness twisted into something sharper. “Amicable? No, Michelle. I’m not the one who is being stubborn here, You forget my dear Michelle that you signed a prenup. You’ll abide by it. Every word. Every rule. That’s the agreement and everything will be fine. Simple.” My stomach sank, but anger quickly replaced the fear. “That’s not fair, Eliot and you know it.” I snapped, surprising even myself. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to you. I’ve been a good wife, no I have been a great wife to you, much more than you deserve. I gave up everything to stand by your side, and this is how you repay me? By using some stupid prenup to chain me to you?” His lips curved into a cold smile. “Then maybe we shouldn’t divorce at all. Haven’t you thought about that?” For a moment, I just stared at him. My mind couldn’t process the words fast enough. “What?” “You heard me.” His tone was smooth, almost casual. “Why end the marriage? Stay with me Michelle, let’s pretend nothing happened and go back to how nice things used to be. That’s what people do when they’re mature enough to accept reality.” My heart pounded so hard it echoed in my ears. “Mature people? Reality?” My laugh came out sharp and bitter. “You were the one who destroyed this marriage the moment you cheated like an immature boy. Don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m the one who’s being unreasonable.” Eliot leaned forward now, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. “You are my only wife, Michelle. My only legal wife. That should be all that matters to you.” Something inside me cracked at those words. He didn’t care about love, respect, or loyalty—only titles. Only control. Before I could reply, Hayden’s voice cut through the tension, firm and sharp. “She deserves better. She deserves to be with a man who treats her like the only queen in his world, not a pawn in his games.” My heart squeezed. I glanced at Hayden, and the intensity in his eyes nearly stole my breath. Eliot’s gaze snapped to him, narrowing dangerously. “And who,” he asked slowly, “is going to give her that? You?” Hayden opened his mouth. “I—” “Stop,” I blurted, my hand shooting out to touch Hayden’s arm. I couldn’t let him say it. Not here. Not in front of Eliot. “Please, don’t.” Hayden clenched his jaw but fell silent, his hand curling into a fist on the table. I turned back to Eliot, trying to steady my voice. “I’m begging you,” I said softly, meeting his eyes. “Please. Let me go. I’ll return everything you gave me, I don’t care about the money or the house or anything. Just… at least honor one thing. You promised you’d take care of my student debt. You refused to let me work, Eliot. The least you can do is pay off the debt like you said you would.” For the first time since he walked in, Eliot’s expression softened. He studied me quietly, almost contemplatively. Then he leaned back, his tone gentler. “Michelle… you’re asking me to throw everything away. But what if I could fix this? Give me another chance.” My heart skipped a beat. “What?” “Five years.” He held up his hand, as if that was some kind of compromise. “Give me five years to prove I can right my wrongs. And if after that you still want to leave, I’ll let you go. No prenup. No fight.” Five years. The words echoed in my head like a death sentence. Five more years of living with a manipulative cheat? Five years of pretending? Five years of feeling like my soul was being drained one day at a time? The horror must have shown on my face, because Eliot smirked faintly, as though my revulsion amused him. He reached across the table suddenly, his hand stretching toward mine. “You’re still my wife, Michelle. That bond doesn’t break so easily.” Before his fingers could touch me, Hayden’s hand shot out and smacked him away with a sharp crack. “Don’t touch her,” Hayden growled, his voice low and dangerous. Eliot’s eyes darkened. He pulled his hand back slowly, suspicion flickering across his face. His gaze flicked between me and Hayden, studying the space between us like a predator sniffing out weakness. His lips curled into a sly smile. “Tell me… are you two sleeping together?” My breath hitched, caught somewhere between shock and fear. The air thickened instantly, the question hanging like a storm cloud over the table. Hayden’s chair screeched as he shifted forward, fury blazing in his eyes. And I froze, every muscle in my body tightening, knowing this was the moment everything could turn to shit..
“Are you two sleeping together?” “What?” Hayden growled. “I asked if you are fucking her!” The moment Eliot’s smug words left his mouth, I saw Hayden snap. His chair screeched across the polished restaurant floor as he surged forward, his fists slamming onto the table so hard the silverware rattled. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!” he snarled, his voice low but sharp enough to cut the air. Eliot leaned back, infuriatingly calm, like this was all part of some twisted game. “Look at you,” he said with a cruel chuckle. “So protective of her. That’s not the way a stepson behaves, Hayden. Unless, of course—” That was it. Hayden lunged, his hand gripping the edge of the table as he leaned across it, his face inches from his father’s. “You disgust me. You cheated on her, humiliated her, and now you sit here pretending you’re some kind of victim? You’re pathetic.” Eliot’s own composure cracked. He stood up so fast his chair toppled backward with a clatter that made heads turn across the restaurant. “Watch your mouth, boy,” he hissed, his face red with fury. People were staring now. The low hum of the restaurant had gone silent. I shot to my feet, my pulse hammering. “Stop it!” I grabbed Hayden’s arm, but his muscles were tense like steel. He wasn’t backing down. Eliot’s hand twitched at his side, like he was ready to swing, and panic shot through me. “Hayden!” I hissed, tugging harder on his arm. “Don’t… please, don’t do this here.” But he didn’t move. His jaw was clenched, eyes locked on his father like he wanted nothing more than to throw the first punch. Eliot sneered. “Go ahead. Hit me. Show everyone what a disrespectful brat you are.” “Stop it!” My voice cracked louder this time, drawing more stares. I shoved myself between them, pressing a hand to each of their chests to keep them apart. “This is insane! Do you want to make a scene in front of everyone?” “Michelle—” Hayden’s voice was ragged, furious. “No!” I snapped, glaring up at him. “You’re better than this. Don’t give him what he wants.” For a moment, all I heard was the sound of their heavy breathing because the tension so thick I thought someone might still swing. My hands trembled against their chests, and I forced my eyes to Hayden’s. “Please,” I whispered, softer now. “Come with me. Don’t let him drag you down to his level.” Something flickered in Hayden’s eyes… it was conflict, rage, and finally restraint. Slowly, with obvious effort, he stepped back. His chest heaved, his fists still balled so tightly his knuckles were white. Eliot smirked, straightening his jacket like he’d won something. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, though I could see the faint twitch in his jaw. “Enough,” I said firmly, my voice steadier than I felt. I grabbed Hayden’s hand,it was warm, shaking with contained anger and tugged him toward the exit. “We’re leaving.” Hayden resisted for a split second, his glare still locked on his father, but then he let me lead him away. The restaurant murmurs swelled behind us as curious eyes followed, whispers buzzing as Eliot sat back down with that insufferable smugness plastered across his face. I didn’t breathe until we were outside in the cool air, away from the suffocating tension of that room. I finally turned to Hayden, who was pacing like a caged animal, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe him,” he growled, voice rough. “The way he talked to you, the way he tried to twist everything.. God, I should’ve—” “You should’ve what?” I cut in, my own voice sharp. “Punched him in front of a whole restaurant? Given him exactly what he wanted? Hayden, don’t you see? He’s baiting you. He wants you to lose control so he can use it against us.” Hayden froze, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. Then his gaze softened as it landed on me. “I just… I can’t stand the way he treats you.” His voice cracked slightly, raw with emotion. My throat tightened. I wanted to tell him how much it meant to have him on my side, but I also knew we had to be careful. “I know,” I said gently, laying a hand on his arm. “But we can’t let him win by pulling us into his mess.” Hayden sighed heavily, nodding, though his jaw was still tight. Before either of us could say more, my phone buzzed in my bag. I fumbled it out, desperate for a distraction, and saw the name on the screen: Ms. Callahan. Our lawyer. I exchanged a look with Hayden, then answered. “Hello?” “Michelle,” Ms. Callahan’s calm but serious voice came through. “I’ve been reviewing your case, and I think I have some news. Can you and Hayden come to my office tomorrow morning?” Hope flickered in my chest, fragile but there. “News? What kind of news?” “I’d rather discuss it in person,” she replied firmly. “But I believe there may be a path forward we hadn’t considered before.” I swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Okay. Yes. We’ll be there.” After she hung up, I lowered the phone slowly, my mind spinning. Hayden stepped closer, his brows furrowed. “What did she say?” “She wants us to come to her office tomorrow.” I let out a shaky breath. “She says she has news. Maybe… maybe there’s hope after all.” For the first time that day, I saw Hayden’s shoulders relax slightly. His hand brushed mine, deliberate and reassuring. “There’s always hope,” he said softly. I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. But as the night air swirled around us, I couldn’t shake the image of Eliot’s smirk burned into my memory, or the gnawing fear of what tomorrow might bring.
Michelle’s POV The next morning came too soon. I barely slept, tossing and turning all night with flashes of Eliot’s smug face taunting me and Hayden’s steady voice promising he’d be by my side. By the time Hayden knocked on my guest room door, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. “You ready?” His deep voice carried through the wood. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, just give me a second.” When I opened the door, he was waiting there, dressed in a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up, like he was going to war instead of to see a lawyer. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable. “You didn’t sleep much, did you?” he asked, studying my face. I shrugged, trying to hide the truth. “I’m fine.” He didn’t believe me—he never did—but he didn’t press. Instead, he simply reached for my bag. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Ms. Callahan’s office was spotless and intimidating, every file in perfect stacks, every pen in line, like a place where no one could hide a single secret. She greeted us warmly and gestured to the chairs opposite her desk. “I appreciate you both coming on such short notice,” she said, folding her hands. Hayden leaned forward immediately. “You said you had news.” His voice was clipped, impatient, like he was already bracing for the worst. “Yes.” Ms. Callahan adjusted her glasses, then looked directly at me. “Michelle, I’ve been reviewing your situation. The prenup is strong, I won’t lie. But there’s a potential angle.” I stiffened. “An angle?” “If we can show a pattern of Eliot manipulating women—deceiving them the way he deceived you into signing—you might have a chance to challenge the validity of the prenup in court.” For a moment, her words didn’t register. Then my stomach twisted. “Manipulating women…” My voice trailed off. “You mean I’d have to… what? Prove he did the same thing to others?” “Exactly,” Ms. Callahan confirmed. “We need evidence. Records, testimonies, even correspondence. Anything that shows this wasn’t a one,time mistake but part of his character.” Hayden’s hands curled into fists on his knees. “That means she’d have to go near him again.” I looked at him, my pulse quickening at the sharp edge in his tone. “Hayden…” His eyes softened when they landed on me, but his voice stayed hard. “I don’t like it. At all.” Ms. Callahan gave a small sympathetic smile. “I understand it’s difficult, but it could be the strongest case we have.” I leaned back in my chair, my chest tight. The thought of being near Eliot again—pretending, listening, smiling just enough to draw him out—made me sick. I’d spent years locked in that role already. The idea of putting myself back into it, even temporarily, felt unbearable. “I don’t know if I can do that,” I admitted softly. Hayden reached for my hand, squeezing it under the desk. “You shouldn’t have to.” Ms. Callahan’s gaze flicked between us, but she didn’t comment. “It’s your choice,” she said gently. “But if you want a fighting chance, this is the path.” The ride back was tense. Hayden was silent, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly I thought it might snap. Finally, I whispered, “You’re angry.” “Of course I’m angry,” he shot back, his voice rough. “You’ve already been through hell with him, and now they’re asking you to walk back into it. How is that fair?” “It’s not about fair,” I said quietly. “It’s about survival.” His knuckles whitened further. “I don’t want you anywhere near him again.” My chest warmed at the fierce protectiveness in his voice. I swallowed. “What if it’s the only way I can finally be free of him?” He didn’t answer right away. His jaw flexed, eyes fixed on the road. Finally, he muttered, “Then I’ll be there every second. He won’t get near you unless I’m in the room.” A small, shaky laugh slipped out of me. “You make it sound like a war.” He turned his head, his eyes meeting mine for the briefest moment. “It is.” That evening, after I’d been pacing the guest room for an hour, Hayden knocked and called me downstairs. “What is it?” I asked cautiously when I reached the bottom of the staircase. He was standing in the dining room, a table set with candles and two plates steaming with food. I blinked. “What’s all this?” “Dinner.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but his lips curved into a half,smile. “I thought you deserved something normal. A night without lawyers or prenups or his name hanging over your head.” My throat tightened. “You did all this… for me?” “Don’t make it weird,” he teased lightly, pulling out a chair for me. “Just sit down.” I couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips as I sat. The food smelled delicious, and the flicker of the candles made the whole room feel softer, safer. We ate slowly, talking about little things at first—movies we liked, places we wanted to travel someday. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe. At one point, I laughed at something he said, and he froze, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “What?” I asked, suddenly self,conscious. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. But his voice was softer now. “I just… I like seeing you smile.” Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I looked down at my plate, suddenly shy. “You say things like that too easily.” “They’re not easy,” he replied quietly. “They’re just true.” My heart thudded painfully. I reminded myself—over and over—that he was my stepson. That this was dangerous. Wrong. But when he reached across the table and gently brushed his fingers against mine, I didn’t pull away. Instead, I looked up, straight into his eyes. The room went silent, the world narrowing to just the two of us. “Michelle…” he whispered, his voice low and rough. And before I could stop it, before I could think, he leaned across the table and kissed me. It was soft at first, tentative, but it sent a shock through me, stealing my breath. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. For a moment, I kissed him back, my fingers curling against his hand. Then reality slammed into me. I jerked back, breathless, horrified. “Oh my God.” I pressed a trembling hand to my lips. “Hayden, we can’t… I can’t…” He looked at me, his eyes dark with emotion, his lips parted like he wanted to argue. But I saw the pain in his expression when I shook my head. “This is wrong,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You’re my stepson. I’m still trying to divorce your father, and now this—” He flinched like I’d struck him, his jaw tightening. “You think I don’t know that?” His voice cracked with frustration. “But I can’t help how I feel about you.” My heart ached at the raw honesty in his words. But I forced myself to turn away, gripping the edge of the table to keep from reaching for him again. “I can’t fall for you,” I said softly, more to myself than to him. “I can’t.” The silence that followed was heavy, filled with everything we weren’t saying. I closed my eyes, my chest aching with the truth I was too afraid to admit—because deep down, I already was.
Michelle’s POV The smell of coffee filled the kitchen the next morning, rich and warm, but it did nothing to ease the knot twisting and turning in my stomach. Hayden was already at the counter, pouring himself a mug, his dark hair still messy from sleep. He looked unfairly good like that sinfully tousled, broad-shouldered with the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw. Damn he looked delicious I swallowed hard and pulled out a chair, trying to keep my eyes anywhere but on him. The table, the fridge magnets, the damn salt shaker anything was safer than his face. “Morning,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep. “Morning,” I muttered, keeping my tone breezy as I picked up the slice of toast he’d left for me. My hands shook a little, and I cursed myself for it. Because all I could think about was last night. That kiss. That moment. His hand on my cheek, the heat of his mouth against mine, and the way my body had melted without permission. I had spent the entire night tossing in bed, my dreams filled with things I wasn’t allowed to imagine about him. It left me raw, flustered, and embarrassed beyond words. “You slept okay?” Hayden asked, sliding into the chair across from me. “Yeah,” I lied quickly, biting into the toast and chewing like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He narrowed his eyes. “Really.” “Mm-hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my coffee. The bitter heat scalded my tongue, but I welcomed it. Anything to keep me from blurting out the truth, that I’d dreamt of him kissing me again, of more than kissing. Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I stared at my plate, feeling him watch me. Finally, he set down his mug with a thud. “Okay, what’s going on with you?” he asked bluntly. “You’re avoiding me. You’ve barely looked at me since you sat down.” I forced a laugh, too light, too fake. “I’m not avoiding you.” His brows rose. “Michelle, you couldn’t even look at me when you said that.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. I focused on cutting my toast into tiny squares, pretending like I didn’t notice his stare drilling into me. “I just didn’t sleep much, that’s all. Nothing’s wrong.” “Bullshit,” he said softly. I glanced up at him then, startled by the seriousness in his tone. His gaze was steady, searching, and it made my breath hitch. For a second, I thought about telling him the truth… that my dreams had been filled with him, that every part of me was aching with a confusing want I couldn’t admit out loud. But the words stuck in my throat. So instead, I shook my head and pushed the plate away. “Drop it, Hayden. Please.” His jaw tightened, but he let out a slow breath and leaned back in his chair. “Fine. For now.” Relief rushed through me, but it was short-lived. Because his next question made my stomach drop. “So, how do you plan to get evidence on my father?” I froze, fingers gripping my coffee mug. “I… I’ve been thinking about that,” I said carefully. “And?” I met his eyes, steeling myself. “The only way is to get close to him again. To… to move back into the house for a while. Stay under the same roof. Watch. Listen.” The reaction was instant. His mug slammed down, liquid sloshing over the rim. His expression darkened. “Absolutely not.” “Hayden—” “No, Michelle. You’re not moving back in with him. Do you have any idea what you’re asking? He’s manipulative, cruel, and unpredictable. He’ll eat you alive if you’re not careful.” His voice was sharp, almost frantic. “I know,” I said softly. “But it’s the only way. The lawyer made it clear to Hayden that I need proof of his behavior. I can’t get that from a distance. He’ll never show his true self if I stay away.” He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “So what, you’re just going to walk back into his house and play the obedient wife while he parades Natasha around?” The name stung like acid. Natasha. The mistress who had been flaunted so openly while I was shoved aside. I forced myself to keep my expression calm. “If that’s what it takes, then yes.” Hayden’s fists clenched on the table. His eyes burned with frustration. “You’ll break yourself doing this. Don’t you get it? He doesn’t deserve another chance to hurt you.” I reached across the table before I could think better of it, laying my hand lightly over his. “I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than he thinks. And I won’t be alone you’ll be right here, waiting for me.” He stared at our joined hands, his throat working like he was holding back words. Finally, he exhaled, long and heavy. “I hate this,” he muttered. “I know.” I squeezed his hand. “But it’s the only way forward.” Reluctantly, he nodded. “Fine. But I’m driving you there. And you call me every single day, do you hear me? If he so much as breathes wrong around you, I want to know.” A smile tugged at my lips despite the heaviness in my chest. “You sound like a worried parent.” He shot me a look. “I’m serious, Michelle. Promise me.” “Okay, okay,” I said, teasing lightly. “I promise. I’ll call you every day. Happy?” “Not even close,” he grumbled, but his grip on my hand softened. Later, when the car rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling iron gates of Eliot’s compound, my stomach twisted in knots. The mansion loomed ahead like a fortress, beautiful and cold. I wanted to throw up. I reached for the door handle, but Hayden’s hand shot out, catching mine. His palm was warm, firm. I turned, startled, to find his gaze locked on mine. “Promise me again,” he said quietly. “Every day. And if you’re in trouble—even a little bit—you call. Immediately.” I smiled faintly, trying to mask the storm inside me. “You’re relentless, you know that?” “Promise me,” he pressed. My chest tightened. “I promise,” I whispered. He held my gaze for a long moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against my cheek. The warmth lingered, leaving me flustered as I quickly grabbed my bag and pushed the door open before I could betray how much it affected me. Walking up the stone steps, my legs felt like lead. I raised my hand and knocked on the door. It swung open a moment later, and Eliot stood there, tall and imposing in his perfectly pressed suit. His eyes widened at the sight of me—and the suitcase in my hand. “Michelle?” His voice was edged with disbelief. I lifted my chin, keeping my tone calm. “I’m moving back in.” His brows shot up, suspicion flashing in his eyes. “Moving back in? Why?” “Because we’re still married,” I said smoothly. “And because I don’t have any money. I need to start figuring out how to handle my student loans since you never let me work. Until then, this is the only option I have.” He smirked, leaning against the doorframe like he was already savoring some private victory. “So the princess has finally realized she’s not so independent after all.” I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle but forced myself to stay composed. “Think whatever you want. I’m here because it makes sense.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “Oh, Michelle. You’ll come to your senses soon enough. And when you do, you’ll see that you belong right here. With me.” The words made my skin crawl, but I pasted on a neutral expression, forcing myself not to flinch. “We’ll see,” I said quietly. And with that, I stepped inside, dragging the suitcase over the polished marble floor.
Michelle’s POV The smell of coffee filled the kitchen the next morning, rich and warm, but it did nothing to ease the knot twisting and turning in my stomach. Hayden was already at the counter, pouring himself a mug, his dark hair still messy from sleep. He looked unfairly good like that sinfully tousled, broad-shouldered with the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw. Damn he looked delicious I swallowed hard and pulled out a chair, trying to keep my eyes anywhere but on him. The table, the fridge magnets, the damn salt shaker anything was safer than his face. “Morning,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep. “Morning,” I muttered, keeping my tone breezy as I picked up the slice of toast he’d left for me. My hands shook a little, and I cursed myself for it. Because all I could think about was last night. That kiss. That moment. His hand on my cheek, the heat of his mouth against mine, and the way my body had melted without permission. I had spent the entire night tossing in bed, my dreams filled with things I wasn’t allowed to imagine about him. It left me raw, flustered, and embarrassed beyond words. “You slept okay?” Hayden asked, sliding into the chair across from me. “Yeah,” I lied quickly, biting into the toast and chewing like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He narrowed his eyes. “Really.” “Mm-hmm,” I hummed, reaching for my coffee. The bitter heat scalded my tongue, but I welcomed it. Anything to keep me from blurting out the truth, that I’d dreamt of him kissing me again, of more than kissing. Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I stared at my plate, feeling him watch me. Finally, he set down his mug with a thud. “Okay, what’s going on with you?” he asked bluntly. “You’re avoiding me. You’ve barely looked at me since you sat down.” I forced a laugh, too light, too fake. “I’m not avoiding you.” His brows rose. “Michelle, you couldn’t even look at me when you said that.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. I focused on cutting my toast into tiny squares, pretending like I didn’t notice his stare drilling into me. “I just didn’t sleep much, that’s all. Nothing’s wrong.” “Bullshit,” he said softly. I glanced up at him then, startled by the seriousness in his tone. His gaze was steady, searching, and it made my breath hitch. For a second, I thought about telling him the truth… that my dreams had been filled with him, that every part of me was aching with a confusing want I couldn’t admit out loud. But the words stuck in my throat. So instead, I shook my head and pushed the plate away. “Drop it, Hayden. Please.” His jaw tightened, but he let out a slow breath and leaned back in his chair. “Fine. For now.” Relief rushed through me, but it was short-lived. Because his next question made my stomach drop. “So, how do you plan to get evidence on my father?” I froze, fingers gripping my coffee mug. “I… I’ve been thinking about that,” I said carefully. “And?” I met his eyes, steeling myself. “The only way is to get close to him again. To… to move back into the house for a while. Stay under the same roof. Watch. Listen.” The reaction was instant. His mug slammed down, liquid sloshing over the rim. His expression darkened. “Absolutely not.” “Hayden—” “No, Michelle. You’re not moving back in with him. Do you have any idea what you’re asking? He’s manipulative, cruel, and unpredictable. He’ll eat you alive if you’re not careful.” His voice was sharp, almost frantic. “I know,” I said softly. “But it’s the only way. The lawyer made it clear Hayden so I need proof of his behavior. I can’t get that from a distance. He’ll never show his true self if I stay away.” He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “So what, you’re just going to walk back into his house and play the obedient wife while he parades Natasha around?” The name stung like acid. Natasha. The mistress who had been flaunted so openly while I was shoved aside. I forced myself to keep my expression calm. “If that’s what it takes, then yes.” Hayden’s fists clenched on the table. His eyes burned with frustration. “You’ll break yourself doing this. Don’t you get it? He doesn’t deserve another chance to hurt you.” I reached across the table before I could think better of it, laying my hand lightly over his. “I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than he thinks. And I won’t be alone you’ll be right here, waiting for me.” He stared at our joined hands, his throat working like he was holding back words. Finally, he exhaled, long and heavy. “I hate this,” he muttered. “I know.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “But it’s the only way forward.” Reluctantly, he nodded. “Fine. But I’m driving you there. And you call me every single day, do you hear me? If he so much as breathes wrong around you, I want to know.” A smile tugged at my lips despite the heaviness in my chest. “You sound like a worried parent.” He shot me a look. “I’m serious, Michelle. Promise me.” “Okay, okay,” I said, teasing lightly. “I promise. I’ll call you every day. Happy?” “Not even close,” he grumbled, but his grip on my hand softened. Later, when the car rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling iron gates of Eliot’s compound, my stomach twisted in knots. The mansion loomed ahead like a fortress, beautiful and cold. I wanted to throw up. I reached for the door handle, but Hayden’s hand shot out, catching mine. His palm was warm, firm. I turned, startled, to find his gaze locked on mine. “Promise me again,” he said quietly. “Every day. And if you’re in trouble—even a little bit—you call. Immediately.” I smiled faintly, trying to mask the storm inside me. “You’re relentless, you know that?” “Promise me,” he pressed. My chest tightened. “I promise,” I whispered. He held my gaze for a long moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against my cheek. The warmth lingered, leaving me flustered as I quickly grabbed my bag and pushed the door open before I could betray how much it affected me. Walking up the stone steps, my legs felt like lead. I raised my hand and knocked on the door. It swung open a moment later, and Eliot stood there, tall and imposing in his perfectly pressed suit. His eyes widened at the sight of me—and the suitcase in my hand. “Michelle?” His voice was edged with disbelief. I lifted my chin, keeping my tone calm. “I’m moving back in.” His brows shot up, suspicion flashing in his eyes. “Moving back in? Why?” “Because we’re still married,” I said smoothly. “And because I don’t have any money. I need to start figuring out how to handle my student loans since you never let me work. Until then, this is the only option I have.” He smirked, leaning against the doorframe like he was already savoring some private victory. “So the princess has finally realized she’s not so independent after all.” I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle but forced myself to stay composed. “Think whatever you want. I’m here because it makes sense.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “Oh, Michelle. You’ll come to your senses soon enough. And when you do, you’ll see that you belong right here. With me.” The words made my skin crawl, but I pasted on a neutral expression, forcing myself not to flinch. “We’ll see,” I said quietly. And with that, I stepped inside, dragging the suitcase over the polished marble floor.
Michelle’s POV The moment Eliot stepped aside and I dragged my suitcase through the doorway, a sharp gasp echoed across the foyer. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was. Natasha stood at the foot of the grand staircase, her perfectly styled hair falling over her shoulders, lips parted in shock. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost. “What—what is she doing back here?” Natasha’s voice trembled with disbelief as her eyes darted between me and Eliot. Eliot’s hand settled casually on the small of my back, like he was proud to display me. “Michelle’s moving back in,” he said smoothly. “She’s still my wife.” Natasha’s jaw dropped. “You told me—” Her face flushed a furious red. “You told me I would be the only woman here. That this was our home now.” I bit down on the inside of my cheek, hard, to keep from smiling at the irony. Of course Eliot had promised her that. He probably whispered the same things to a dozen women. And yet here she was, clinging to him like he was her entire world. A part of me, the part that still hated this endless battle, secretly wished Eliot would just divorce me outright and hand the crown to her. If she wanted to play wife so badly, she could have the fucker with his lies, affairs, manipulation and all. But no, Eliot would never make it that simple. Eliot’s expression hardened as he turned to Natasha. “You’re being childish,” he scolded. “Michelle is still legally my wife. That doesn’t change just because you don’t like it.” Her eyes widened at his sharp tone. “But you promised me—” “I said stop it.” His voice cut like ice. “Don’t forget your place, Natasha.” Her lips quivered, but she bit them shut, blinking fast as if holding back tears. For a moment I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Without another word, Eliot straightened his jacket and strode toward his study, muttering something about a phone call he had to make. The heavy door clicked shut behind him, leaving silence in his wake. Natasha stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, fists clenched, her chest heaving with angry breaths. I could see it all over her face—she was about to storm off. “Natasha, wait,” I said quickly. She spun around, eyes blazing. “What? Haven’t you humiliated me enough?” I held up both hands. “I’m not here to fight with you.” Her lips curled. “Really? Because showing up with your suitcase says otherwise.” “I didn’t have a choice,” I said calmly, keeping my tone level. “But listen, I don’t want to be here either. The truth is, I want out. And if you want him so badly, you can have him. But I need your help.” That caught her off guard. Her brows knitted together, suspicion flashing in her gaze. “Help you? Why would I ever do that?” “Because we want the same thing,” I said softly. “You want me gone, right? Well, so do I.” Her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’re lying.” I took a slow breath, forcing myself not to show how desperate I really felt. “I’m not lying, Natasha. I’m tired. I’m done with this marriage. But Eliot won’t let go easily. If I try to leave, he drags me back in. If I push, he pushes harder. You’ve seen it.” Her eyes flickered, doubt warring with curiosity. “Please,” I pressed gently. “I need to understand how things really are between you two. How this even started. Maybe then I can figure out a way to convince him to let me go.” She hesitated, her shoulders rising and falling with shallow breaths. For a long moment, I thought she’d storm off anyway. But finally, she exhaled, her lips tightening. “You really want to know?” she asked. “Yes,” I said firmly. Natasha’s gaze drifted away, unfocused, as though she were slipping back into the memory. “I came here because of you, actually.” I blinked. “Me?” She nodded, almost shyly. “I admired you. Everyone talked about Michelle the woman who had it all. The perfect wife, the perfect life, the house, the clothes, the charm. You seemed untouchable. I thought… maybe if I worked with you, I could learn. Be like you.” My stomach twisted uneasily. “So you came to work with me because you admired me.” Her lips curved into a strange, almost dreamy smile. “At first. But then… I realized I didn’t have to be like you. I could just take what you had. Step into your life. Why be a shadow when I could be the star?” I stared at her, horror prickling through me. She sounded almost unhinged. “So you decided to steal my husband?” “It wasn’t like that,” she snapped, defensive. Then she faltered. “Not at first. He noticed me. He… made me feel special.” Her voice softened, almost reverent. “Like I mattered. Like I was beautiful in a way no one had ever said before. And once you’ve felt that—once he makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe—you don’t want to let it go. You just… you want to please him. Over and over again.” Her eyes glittered with something I couldn’t quite name.the sick devotion? Obsession? It sent a chill down my spine. In that moment, I realized something important: Natasha wasn’t just cruel or jealous. She had been young, naive, and vulnerable. And Eliot had seen it. He’d shaped her, molded her, turned her into this… fervent worshiper. Just another victim of his manipulation. I needed proof of his behavior, and maybe she could be my way to get it. But before I could press further, Natasha’s dreamy look vanished. Her eyes snapped back to mine, sharp and cold. “You should leave, Michelle,” she said suddenly. I blinked. “Excuse me?” “Leave Eliot. Before it’s too late.” My pulse kicked up. “Too late for what?” Her lips curled into a thin smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Because if you don’t, I’ll have to get rid of you myself.” The words hit like ice water. For a second, I thought I’d misheard. But her expression didn’t waver. A shiver ran down my spine. Was she bluffing? Or was she truly that far gone? As she turned and walked up the stairs, her heels clicking sharply against the marble, I stood frozen in the foyer, my heart pounding. Was Natasha just angry and dramatic? Or was she genuinely dangerous? I wasn’t sure. And that uncertainty gnawed at me as I dragged my suitcase toward the guest room, forcing myself to breathe evenly. One thing was clear though: Eliot wasn’t the only problem in this house.
Michelle’s POV I had only been back in Eliot’s house for one night, and already I felt like I’d aged five years. The walls themselves felt heavy, suffocating, almost as though they carried every whispered lie and betrayal Eliot had ever told. I couldn’t breathe here. I couldn’t fucking relax. And worst of all I truly missed Hayden. The thought made me press a palm against my chest. Missed him. My stepson. The man I had sworn not to think about that way. But the truth sat heavy and undeniable inside me: his presence had been my comfort, his voice my anchor. And now, surrounded by marble floors and cold chandeliers, I only felt empty without him. I pulled out my phone before I could overthink it and dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring. “Michelle?” His voice was sharp, urgent. “What’s wrong? Did he do something? Do I need to come get you?” I blinked at the screen, startled. “What? No, no, Hayden—calm down. Nothing happened.” “Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, his voice lower now, dangerous. “If my father laid a fucking hand on you—” I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing, the sound shaky but real. “Hayden, stop. Honestly. He hasn’t done anything improper. I promise. You sound like you’re about to storm in here with an army.” His heavy sigh crackled through the speaker. “Don’t joke about that. I would. You know I would.” I softened, my grip on the phone tightening. “I know. And I appreciate it. But I’m fine, Hayden. Really.” There was a pause, as if he was trying to measure whether he believed me. Finally, he muttered, “You don’t sound fine.” I sank onto the edge of the stiff guest bed, staring at the patterned carpet. “I’m tired,” I admitted. “But I also think… I might finally be onto something. I talked to Natasha today.” That got his attention. “You what?” “Relax,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t planned. She cornered me after Eliot left. But it was… interesting. Very interesting, actually. She admitted things without realizing she was admitting them. The way he manipulated her, how he made her feel like she was special, like she was the only one. It was the same thing he did to me, Hayden. Exactly the same tactics. If I can get her to open up more on camera or if I can find other women like her and get them on tape, I can prove he has a pattern. Enough evidence that the prenup won’t crush me in court.” The line was quiet for a beat, then I heard him exhale. “Michelle… that’s brilliant.” I blinked, caught off guard. “Brilliant?” “Yes. You’re finally seeing his game for what it is and turning it against him.” His tone sharpened with conviction. “That’s exactly what you need to do. You can win this. You will win this.” My lips parted, shocked by the certainty in his voice. No one had ever spoken about me like that. Not my parents, who’d always thought I was soft and fragile. Not Eliot, who had done nothing but make me doubt myself. But Hayden… he sounded like he truly believed I was capable. Strong. Worthy. “I…” My voice wavered. “I don’t know what to say to that.” “Say you believe it too,” he countered. My chest squeezed tight. “No one has ever held me in such high esteem before,” I whispered. There was a pause, then his voice came low and rough. “That’s because no one’s been paying attention. But I have.” The words struck me like lightning. My breath caught. “You’ve… been watching me?” “Yes.” His confession came without hesitation. “From the very beginning. Even when I acted like I hated you.” My mind spun. “Wait—you mean all those years you looked at me like I was an inconvenience, like you couldn’t stand me—” He sighed heavily. “It wasn’t because of you. It was because of him. I hated that he had you. That he got to keep you under his roof, claim you as his wife, when he didn’t deserve you for a second.” I swallowed hard, my heart hammering. “So all that time… you were watching me.” “Yes.” I couldn’t stop myself from whispering, “How long, Hayden?” For the first time, he hesitated. I heard the sound of him shifting, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter.” “That’s not an answer.” “Michelle,” he said quickly, deflecting, “you should focus on the case. On Eliot. Not on me.” I narrowed my eyes at the screen, but decided to let it go.. for now. But One day, I would ask again. One day, I’d make him answer. Before I could push, his voice dropped into something darker, something that made heat stir in my stomach. “Tell me something, Michelle…” “What?” I asked warily. “What are you wearing right now?” My face flamed instantly. “Hayden!” “What?” His tone was pure, wicked amusement. “You’re the one who called me. I’m just asking a simple question.” “It’s not a simple question,” I muttered, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt. “Then answer it.” His voice came smoother now, almost seductive. “Don’t make me guess.” I buried my face in my hand. “You’re impossible.” “Maybe. But you’re blushing, aren’t you?” My heart leapt. “I am not.” “You are,” he teased. “I can hear it in your voice. Michelle… turn your camera on.” I froze. “No way.” “Please,” he pressed, his voice dropping into that husky timbre that made me weak. “Let me see you… Just for a minute.” “Hayden…” “I need to see you. Please.” My resolve cracked under the weight of his pleading tone. My fingers hovered over the screen, trembling. And then, with a shaky breath, I pressed the button. The call flipped to video, and suddenly his face filled the screen. His eyes widened instantly, then softened. “God,” he whispered, leaning closer to his camera. “What?” I stammered, my skin burning. He let out a long, deep breath, his gaze roaming over me slowly, reverently. “You have no idea what you do to me.” I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My cheeks burned hotter than fire as his eyes drank me in, his silence more powerful than any words. And in that suspended moment, I forgot all about Eliot, about the prenup, about Natasha upstairs. All I felt was the dangerous pull between us.
Title this chapter for me Michelle’s POV I could feel my cheeks heat up the second Hayden’s voice deepened through the phone. “You look so fucking beautiful it hurts,” he said softly, and I almost dropped the phone. “W-What?” I stammered, feeling the flush creep down my neck. I’d only flipped the camera on because he begged like his life depended on it, and now he was staring at me like I was something out of a painting. Hayden gave me that half-smile of his, the one that looked a little cocky but mostly devastating. “You heard me. You’re gorgeous, Michelle. I wish you were here… with me.” My stomach twisted with a warmth I tried to ignore. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, trying to look away but failing. I was smiling… God help me, I was smiling. “Don’t say things like that. You’ll make me… blush.” “Good,” he said immediately, leaning back in his chair. “I like you blushing. I like knowing I can do that to you.” I groaned, covering my face with my hand. “Stop. You shouldn’t be saying this. We shouldn’t be doing this.” He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming even through the little screen. “And yet you’re still here… still talking to me. Don’t pretend you don’t like it, Michelle.” I let out a shaky laugh. “You’re insufferable.” “Mm, but you like me anyway.” He smirked, and it was unfair how good that smirk looked on him. “Hayden,” I warned, but my tone wasn’t nearly as stern as it should’ve been. In fact, it sounded suspiciously like a giggle. “You’re going to get me in trouble.” “Then let me at least make it worth your while.” His voice dropped lower, huskier. “Tell me… what are you wearing right now?” I gasped. “Excuse me?!” He chuckled, that deep rumble that made my pulse trip. “Relax, I’m not asking for a runway show. Just… humor me. I can’t stop picturing you in that silk robe you wore last time I saw you here at the manor.” My cheeks flamed. “You remember that?” “I remember everything,” he admitted, suddenly serious. His gaze softened, and my heart did a dangerous flip. God, what was happening to me? “Well…” I fiddled with the collar of my pajama top. “It’s not a robe. Just a simple satin pajama set. Pink.” Hayden inhaled sharply, like the color alone drove him mad. “Pink, huh? That’s cruel, Michelle. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” I bit my lip, torn between mortification and thrill. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you’re beautiful,” he said again, slower this time, like he wanted me to believe every syllable. I was about to say something—something stupid and flirty back—when I heard it. The faint click of the lamp switching off down the hall. My whole body stiffened. “Michelle?” Hayden’s brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” I held up a hand, shushing him as my ears strained. Sure enough, Eliot’s heavy footsteps echoed, crossing the floor into his bedroom. The sound of bedsprings creaking followed, then silence. He was going to sleep. And that meant it was my chance. I plastered a smile on for Hayden. “Nothing’s wrong. But, um, it’s late, and I should go to bed. Can we talk tomorrow?” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re hiding something.” “I’m not!” I lied quickly, forcing a laugh. “I promise I’ll call tomorrow. Okay? Just… trust me.” Hayden studied me like he wanted to argue, but finally, he sighed. “Fine. But Michelle…” His voice softened again. “Be careful.” “I will,” I whispered, before hanging up. The second the call ended, I exhaled hard. My heart was already racing. Hayden would absolutely lose it if he knew what I was about to do, which was precisely why I hadn’t told him. The less he worried, the better. I slipped out of my room, careful not to let the door creak. The hallway was dark, only moonlight spilling in through tall windows. My bare feet made no sound against the carpet as I padded toward Eliot’s office. My pulse thudded in my ears as I wrapped my hand around the doorknob. I twisted it slowly then click. Locked. I cursed under my breath. “Damn it.” Why now? Eliot never locked his office. He used to leave it wide open, papers scattered like trophies across his desk. Now, all of a sudden, it was sealed tight? My gut twisted. He was hiding something. Fine. Tomorrow I’d find another way. For now, I turned toward his library. The door gave way easily, swinging open with a faint groan. The smell of old leather and paper hit me instantly, rich and dusty. Eliot spent so much time in here, I figured maybe something—anything—might be hidden in plain sight. I moved from shelf to shelf, scanning titles, pulling a few out to flip through. Nothing. Just business books, histories, and some pretentious poetry volumes. I sighed, frustration gnawing at me. “Come on, Michelle,” I muttered to myself. “Think.” I almost gave up when something caught my eye—a ledger half-buried beneath a pile of magazines on the side table. Strange place for it. Curious, I pulled it out and flipped it open. At first, it seemed boring—numbers, transactions, boring financial scribbles. My shoulders slumped. Another dead end. But then… At the very back, written in smaller, careful script, were names. Dozens of them. Women’s names. Some I recognized faintly. There were old employees, acquaintances, even distant family friends. My breath hitched. “What the hell is this?” I whispered. My mind spun with possibilities. Was this some kind of list? A record of every woman he… manipulated? Conquered? Blackmailed? Before I could think more, I heard footsteps. Panic surged through me. Eliot. Frantically, I yanked out my phone and snapped a quick picture of the page, the flash thankfully off. I shoved the ledger back exactly where I found it and hurried toward the door. I almost made it… Almost. Because right as I slipped out into the hallway, I slammed into someone. “Oh!” I gasped, stumbling back. My phone nearly clattered to the floor. Natasha stood there, her eyes narrowing as she steadied herself. “Michelle?” she hissed, suspicion dripping from her voice. “What are you doing here?” My blood froze. I didn’t know what Natasha would do if she guessed what I’d just been snooping into. And for once, I couldn’t even summon an excuse. I just stood there, wide-eyed and caught.
Michelle pov I froze, my breath lodged in my throat. Natasha’s eyes were like knives, sharp and suspicious in the dim glow of the hallway lamp. Fuck! How did I mess this up so soon?! For one terrifying moment, I couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink. What would she do if she realized I had just been in Eliot’s library snooping around? Would she scream? Run to Eliot? Laugh in my face and watch me burn? She’d been eager to get rid of me so now was the perfect chance. Her lips curled. “What were you doing in there?” I forced a shaky laugh, clutching my phone tighter to my chest. “In… in where?” Natasha rolled her eyes, stepping closer until I could smell her perfume—sweet, sickly, like crushed flowers. “Don’t play dumb, Michelle. You came out of the library. At midnight. What could you possibly need in there right now?” I swallowed hard, my mind scrambling for something—anything—that sounded believable. “I couldn’t sleep,” I blurted out. “I thought maybe reading something would help. You know, like people read before bed?” Her brows shot up. “At this hour?” “Yeah,” I said quickly, nodding way too fast. “It’s better than lying awake staring at the ceiling. I figured I’d grab a book, that’s all.” Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe you were after a bedtime story?” A bead of sweat rolled down my back. “I—why wouldn’t you believe me?” She crossed her arms, her tone sharp. “Because you looked guilty the second you bumped into me. What were you really doing snooping around in the middle of the night?” My chest tightened. She knew. She didn’t know what exactly, but she knew. And then, just to make things worse, I heard it. Heavy footsteps down the hallway. Eliot. My pulse skyrocketed. No, no, no—this couldn’t be happening. If he caught me here, if he suspected anything, I’d lose the only chance I had. I grabbed Natasha’s wrist, whispering harshly. “Fine! I’ll tell you. But not now. Please. Just… not now.” She tilted her head, her mouth opening to argue—when Eliot’s voice boomed. “What’s going on here?” My entire body locked up. Slowly, like a child caught stealing cookies, I turned to see him. He stood at the other end of the hallway, his hair messy from bed, his robe hanging loose. His eyes scanned the two of us, sharp and assessing. “I heard voices,” he said, stepping closer. “Why are you both awake?” “I—” I started, but the words died in my throat. Natasha, to my absolute shock, smoothly cut in. “I was feeling unwell,” she said sweetly. “Michelle heard me in the hallway and came to check on me. Isn’t that right?” Damn this bitch could lie! But wait– My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I looked at her like she’d grown two heads. She was… covering for me? Eliot’s eyes flicked between us, suspicion lingering. But then his phone buzzed in his hand. He scowled, muttering under his breath, and glanced at the screen. “Business call,” he said shortly. “Go back to bed, both of you.” We both murmured, “Yes,” and watched him retreat into his office to answer. The second the door clicked shut, I exhaled so hard my chest hurt. Turning to Natasha, I hissed, “Why did you do that?” Her expression was unreadable. “Because,” she said slowly, “if what you told me before is true—if you really want to leave him—then maybe I should help you. But if you’re lying…” She let the sentence hang, ominous and heavy. “I’m not lying,” I said firmly, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded. “I don’t want to stay here. I want out.” She studied me, her eyes flicking over every inch of my face like she was searching for cracks. Finally, she asked, “Then what were you really doing?” I froze again. I couldn’t tell her about the ledger—not yet. She’d either run straight to Eliot or twist it into some loyalty game. I needed to buy time. So I forced myself to sound tired, desperate. “I was looking for… the prenup,” I whispered. Her brows shot up. “The prenup?” “Yeah,” I said quickly, nodding. “If I can get a copy of the original one I signed, maybe I can speed this up. End it faster. I just… I don’t want him dragging this out.” Natasha hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, I thought she’d laugh in my face. But then, to my absolute shock, she whispered, “I might be able to help you.” My jaw dropped. “You—you would?” Her gaze flicked toward Eliot’s office door, then back to me. “Yes. But only if you’re serious about divorcing him. Dead serious. Because if I find out you’re lying…” She stepped closer until her breath brushed my ear. “I’ll destroy you.” A chill ran down my spine. She didn’t sound like she was bluffing. I forced a nod, my heart pounding. “I’m serious. Completely serious.” “Good.” She pulled back, her expression smoothing into something almost sweet again. “Then I’ll help you. I’ll find a way to get you that prenup.” I stared at her, stunned. “Why? Why would you help me?” Her smile was eerie. “Because if you’re gone, then there’s no obstacle left for me. I’ll finally be where I belong.” That sentence made my stomach knot. She really was crazy. But she was also… useful. Natasha turned to leave, her nightgown swishing against the carpet. But halfway down the hall, she paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Remember, Michelle—if you’re lying to me, I’ll know. And when I do… you won’t like what happens.” With that, she disappeared around the corner, her footsteps fading. I stood there frozen, my heart hammering against my ribs. She was absolutely, terrifyingly serious. “God, she’s insane,” I muttered, finally forcing myself to move. My legs felt weak as I hurried back to my room, shutting the door softly behind me. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone, sliding onto the bed. I pulled up the gallery, and there it was—the blurry photo of the ledger page. The list of women’s names stared back at me like ghosts whispering from the dark. I hugged the phone to my chest, adrenaline still pumping. Natasha might have scared me half to death, but she’d also given me something I hadn’t had before—an opening. A chance. And tomorrow, I was going to figure out exactly what Eliot was hiding.
Michelle pov The second I shut my bedroom door, I called Hayden. I didn’t bother to sit down before pacing across the room like a trapped animal. When his face appeared on the screen, he frowned instantly. “You look weird. What happened?” I took a deep breath. “Okay, don’t get mad. I did something earlier this night.” His jaw tightened. “Michelle…” “Just—listen!” I held up a hand like he could feel me stopping him through the screen. “I was careful, I swear. Eliot almost caught me, but I managed to get away. I found something.” “What did you find?” His tone was sharp, impatient. “A ledger. In his library.” I lowered my voice as though Eliot could hear through the walls. “At first I thought it was just boring accounts, but tucked in the back were names. Women’s names. A list. And Hayden, I took a picture.” His eyes widened, and then he immediately rubbed his forehead like he was seconds away from snapping at me. “You actually risked getting caught to snoop around his library?” I winced. “Yes. I told you not to get mad.” “Michelle, you could’ve been trapped in there with him walking in. Do you have any idea what that man is capable of?” His voice rose. I sat down on the bed, clutching the phone. “I know! But if I didn’t take the risk, we wouldn’t have this at all. Look.” I quickly pulled up the photo and sent it to him. “Check your messages.” He went quiet as his phone pinged. A few seconds later, he was staring down at the screen, eyes scanning the blurry but legible handwriting. “Damn it,” he muttered. “These are women he’s… what? Manipulated? Used? You think this is some kind of record?” “Exactly,” I said, lowering my voice even though I was alone. “We can start with these names. If I can find them, maybe talk to them, one of them might confirm a pattern. Enough for the lawyer to use.” Hayden leaned back, shaking his head. “You want to go hunt these women down?” “Well, yeah,” I said. “If I can talk to them, I’ll know whether they’re victims like me. If they are, then Eliot won’t just look like a cheating husband—he’ll look like a predator. The prenup won’t save him if the court sees he’s been manipulating women left and right.” Hayden frowned. “And how do you plan to track them? Knock on random doors and say, ‘Hi, I’m Eliot’s wife, has he ruined your life too?’” I gave him a small smile. “I’ll figure something out. Social media exists, right? And if not, I’ll… I don’t know, find a way. I have to try.” He groaned, running a hand down his face. “You drive me insane. I want to lock you in my apartment until this is all over.” “That’s sweet,” I teased softly, “but you’d get tired of me after one day.” His eyes softened. “Never.” My stomach did an uncomfortable flip. I tried to shake it off and changed the subject. “So… strategy. Which name do we start with?” We spent the next hour tossing ideas back and forth—me suggesting we start with the more unusual names that might be easier to search online, him insisting I shouldn’t do any digging alone. He was protective, bordering on overbearing, but I couldn’t help smiling at how serious he was about it. Somewhere along the way, I curled up under the blanket, his voice low in my ear as he talked about methods of cross-referencing names with business records, social accounts, even old staff rosters from his father’s company. I don’t even remember when I fell asleep. The last thing I heard was Hayden saying quietly, “Promise me you’ll be careful, Michelle. Please.” — The next morning, sunlight poured into my room, far too cheerful for how heavy my head felt. I yawned, dragging myself out of bed. I was still half in a dream when I wandered into the kitchen—until I froze. Eliot was sitting at the table. He had a newspaper folded in front of him, a steaming cup of coffee at his side, like this was some kind of perfect domestic morning. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. “Good morning, Michelle.” I forced a smile, my stomach churning. “Morning.” Before I could retreat, he called toward the stove. “Natasha, make Michelle a coffee.” Natasha’s head snapped up from where she was already cooking. The glare she sent my way could have set me on fire. “What?” she asked sharply. “You heard me,” Eliot said, his tone impatient. “Coffee. For Michelle.” Her jaw clenched, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the counter. “Why should I—” “Natasha,” Eliot cut in coldly, “don’t fucking start.” She bit her lip, turned away, and I could practically feel the jealousy radiating off her. Every movement as she prepared the cup was harsh, like she wanted to smash it against the wall instead. I slid into a chair across from Eliot, forcing a light tone. “You don’t need to make her do that. I can grab it myself.” Eliot waved me off. “She’s here to help. Let her do it.” Natasha slammed the cup down in front of me a minute later, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “Here,” she said flatly. “Thanks,” I murmured, wrapping my hands around it. When Eliot returned to his paper, I glanced at her meaningfully and mouthed, Remember what I said—be on my side if you want me gone. Her eyes narrowed, but she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Then she stormed out, muttering something under her breath. Eliot sighed. “She’s too emotional.” I sipped the coffee carefully. “You don’t say.” He glanced at me over the paper, eyes glinting. “Michelle, I was thinking. You’ve always wanted to come with me to work, haven’t you? See what I do, be part of my world?” My stomach dropped. Oh, I knew this game. He was switching tactics. Yesterday he’d been cold and controlling; today, he was trying to reel me back in with charm. Seduction dressed as generosity. I plastered on a smile. “That’s true,” I said lightly. “I did use to want that.” “Good,” he said smoothly, closing the paper. “Then you’ll escort me today. I’d like to show you that there’s still a place for you by my side.” I nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world, though my insides twisted. “Of course. I’d love that.” Because if I said no, he’d suspect me. And the last thing I could afford right now was for Eliot Harding to start asking questions.
Michelle’s pov The car ride to Eliot’s company felt strangely surreal. My hands were folded neatly on my lap, though my fingers itched to fidget. Eliot was uncharacteristically chatty, pointing out different buildings we passed, throwing in little remarks about traffic and business deals. I barely heard him. My mind was on the tall glass towers growing larger as we approached. His company. The place he had kept hidden from me for years, like some forbidden temple. I remembered how I used to beg him to take me with him, just once- to see where he worked. He always shut me down. Sometimes with an excuse about being “too busy,” other times with a sharp “it’s not the place for you, Michelle.” Back then, I used to wonder if he was ashamed of me. Maybe he thought I didn’t fit in with his polished corporate world. I used to cry about it in private, convincing myself he didn’t want people to see me because I wasn’t enough. Now, though… now I saw it differently. He hadn’t been ashamed of me. He had been hiding me. Keeping me small, away from curious eyes, away from the women he probably charmed behind closed doors. And yet, here I was today, walking into the building on his arm like some trophy wife. He was showing me off, smiling too wide as if to prove something. Too late, Eliot. You’re too late. “Good morning,” he greeted the receptionist warmly as we entered the lobby. The woman’s eyes immediately flicked to me, surprise sparking before her lips curved into a polite but tight smile. “This is my wife, Michelle,” Eliot said with a kind of pride that made my stomach twist. “She’ll be spending the day with me.” I forced a small smile, murmuring a hello. We moved deeper into the building, and I caught more reactions. Some of the female staff smiled politely, others looked me over from head to toe, their eyes narrowing. One in particular, a pretty brunette with glossy lips, muttered a clipped “good morning” but couldn’t hide the edge in her tone. I didn’t need a mirror to know what those looks meant. These women had probably been swept up in Eliot’s charm before. They were just flattered, maybe even tempted—and now here I was, the inconvenient wife standing in their way. It stung a little. But at the same time, it wasn’t proof. They could just be jealous, not victims of his manipulation. Still, the pit in my stomach refused to ease. By the time we reached his office, Eliot was already slipping into work mode. He gestured for me to sit beside him at a long conference table and pulled out files, spreadsheets, and presentations. “I want you to understand what I do,” he said smoothly, flipping through documents. “How decisions are made, how the company runs.” I nodded, pretending interest while my mind wandered. He kept me glued to his side the entire day. Meetings, explanations, tours of departments… gosh it never stopped. Every time I thought I could sneak a glance at my phone, he pulled me into another discussion. By early afternoon, I felt the phone buzz again in my bag, more insistent this time. Hayden. My heart skipped. I snatched it out quickly, but Eliot’s sharp eyes landed on me instantly. “Who’s that?” he asked, voice casual but lined with suspicion. “No one important,” I said too quickly, shoving the phone back. “Just… spam.” His brow arched, but he didn’t press… yet. My heart thudded as I excused myself. “I need the restroom,” I said with a small smile. Once inside the restroom, I locked myself in a stall and quickly answered Hayden’s call. “Michelle?” His voice was low, worried. “Finally. I’ve been trying all morning. Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t answer. Your father’s been… keeping me busy.” “Busy how?” he demanded. “He’s trying hard to act like he’s changed. He wants to spend time with me. He’s showing me the company, teaching me things.” There was a heavy pause. “Michelle, don’t fall for his tricks. He’s just trying to rope you back in.” “I know,” I said softly. “Don’t worry, Hayden. I won’t fall for it. It’s just—he hasn’t left me a second to breathe, let alone investigate the names from the ledger.” “That’s exactly what I was afraid of,” Hayden muttered. “He’s keeping you occupied on purpose. Has he even let you eat?” I blinked, realizing I hadn’t. “I… I’ll eat later. Don’t worry. I miss your cooking, though.” His sigh was audible through the line. “Michelle—” “I have to go,” I cut in, hearing footsteps outside. “He’s looking for me. I’ll call you later.” “Be careful,” he said urgently. I hung up, slipping the phone back into my bag and fixing my face before walking out. Eliot was leaning against the wall, waiting. “Who were you talking to?” he asked, his tone deceptively light. “No one important,” I said with a practiced smile. He studied me for a beat too long, then nodded and led me back to the office. The rest of the afternoon dragged on, and just when I thought I couldn’t take another spreadsheet, a delivery arrived. A young intern carried in a neatly wrapped package, setting it on the desk in front of me. “It’s for you, Mrs. Harding.” Curious, I opened it, and my heart softened instantly. Inside was a container of food, still warm, with a small handwritten note tucked on top. Don’t skip meals. I made this for you. –H I couldn’t help it. I smiled, my chest warming at the thought of Hayden worrying about me enough to send food. “What’s that?” Eliot’s voice cut in sharply. I quickly tried to cover the note with my hand. “Nothing, just… lunch.” But Eliot was faster. He reached over and snatched the note before I could stop him. His eyes flicked over the words, and his entire face darkened, fury flashing hot in his gaze.
Michelle Pov The second Eliot’s eyes landed on the note tucked inside the delivery bag, I knew something was about to blow up. His jaw tightened, the veins along his temples popped, and he gripped the paper like he could strangle it. “What the hell is this?” His voice was low, dangerous. It was the kind of tone he used when he wanted people to cower. I refused to cower. My pulse spiked, but I met his gaze evenly. “It’s food,” I said calmly, though my voice trembled just a little. “Lunch. Because someone actually cares that I eat.” His eyes narrowed, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his face. “Someone? You mean Hayden.” I stayed silent. That was as good as confirmation, and he knew it. His expression twisted in fury. Without another word, he snatched the container of food off the desk and marched toward the trash can. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I snapped, sharper than I meant to. Eliot froze mid-step, his back stiffening. Slowly, he turned toward me, his brows drawn together like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “I said don’t throw it away,” I repeated, standing up now. My heart thudded in my chest, but I forced my chin up. “That’s mine.” “Michelle…” His voice hardened. “You don’t get to dictate—” “No,” I cut him off, the words rushing out before I could think. “I’m done listening to you bark orders at me like I’m some child. You’re an asshole and a piece of shit, and If you expect me to spend even a second in your company, you’re going to treat me with respect.” The silence that followed was suffocating. I had never spoken to him like that before. My stomach twisted in fear, but I refused to take it back. Eliot blinked at me, stunned. His lips parted, closed, then parted again. For a moment, he looked almost… lost. Then, a low, incredulous laugh slipped out of him. “You…” He shook his head. “You’ve changed.” “No,” I said firmly. “I just finally remembered I have a spine.” That earned me a longer stare. Something flickered in his eyes. It was annoyance, yes, but also a spark of something darker. Amusement. Interest. “You think you can stand up to me now?” he asked, stepping closer, voice dangerously smooth. “I don’t think,” I shot back, arms crossed over my chest. “I know. If you want me here, Eliot, then respect me. Otherwise, I’ll walk out that door right now, and you can explain to everyone why your wife won’t even look at you.” His lips curved into a slow smile. Not mocking and hungry. Like my defiance wasn’t an insult but a challenge he was eager to accept. “Respect,” he repeated softly, almost tasting the word. “Yes.” My voice shook a little, but I forced it steady. “Respect.” His gaze dropped to the food still clutched in his hand. After a pause, he set it back down on the desk. My stomach unclenched just a fraction. “Fine,” he said finally, his tone calm but calculated. “Respect it is.” Before I could reply, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and all the humor drained from his face. His jaw tightened, and he grabbed it quickly. “Excuse me,” he muttered, striding to the door. Excuse me? I almost laughed. Eliot never excused himself for anything. That alone sent my instincts into overdrive. The second he slipped out, I pushed away from the desk and crept after him. My heels clicked lightly against the floor, and I winced at every sound. Still, I kept to the wall, tiptoeing down the corridor until I saw him. He was leaning against a corner, one hand gripping the phone tightly, his voice low and urgent. “I locked the office,” he hissed. “I don’t know why she came back, but she won’t see the papers. I’ll never let her. Do you understand?” My breath caught. Papers? What papers? And who was he talking to with that kind of panic in his voice? I pressed closer to the wall, straining to hear. “No,” he continued, softer now. “Don’t worry. She’s distracted. I’ll keep her busy. She won’t suspect a thing.” My stomach twisted. He was hiding something.. definitely something in his office. Something important enough that he felt the need to keep me under lock and key. Before I could piece it together, a voice sliced through the quiet. “What do you think you’re doing?” I froze. Slowly, I turned my head, dread pooling in my stomach. There she was, the brunette from earlier, the one who’d barely managed a “good morning” when I’d been introduced. Her arms were folded tight across her chest, lips curled in smug satisfaction. “I—” I stammered, caught completely off guard. Her eyes narrowed. “Were you spying?” My cheeks burned. “No, I wasn’t spying. I was just—” “Just what?” she cut in, her tone sharp. “You think no one notices you sneaking around after him? You think you’re subtle?” Fuck my life! How did I always get caught?! I clenched my jaw, irritation sparking. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” “Oh, I think you do,” she countered, stepping closer. Her perfume was heavy, suffocating. “You want to play the curious little wife? Fine. But don’t forget, some of us are very loyal to Mr. Eliot. He doesn’t like people sticking their noses where they don’t belong.” Panic flared in me, especially with Eliot just a few feet away, still murmuring into his phone. If she caused a scene, if she drew his attention right now— “Keep your voice down,” I hissed, eyes darting toward Eliot. Her smirk widened. “Why? Afraid he’ll catch you?” “Yes,” I admitted quickly, desperation coating my voice. “Just give me a second.” I begged. With that, I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into another office so that Eliot would walk by without seeing us A few seconds passed before I was sure that he was completely gone, that’s when I finally released a sigh. But then I looked up to see the lady glaring daggers at me. “What the hell was that about?!”
Michelle’s pov I held my breath as Eliot’s footsteps echoed down the hall. My heart pounded so loudly I swore Alice — the name on the name tag of the brunette staff member who’d just caught me snooping, could hear it. We had ducked into a supply closet at the last second, the faint smell of disinfectant and paper filling my nose. Eliot passed by, still on the phone, his deep voice fading as he moved further down the corridor. Alice stood stiff beside me, arms crossed tightly across her chest, eyes flashing in the dim light. The moment Eliot’s voice disappeared, she rounded on me. “What the hell were you doing out there?” she hissed, her whisper sharp and furious. My mind scrambled. I couldn’t tell her the truth — I’d overheard Eliot talking about papers he was hiding. She’d either run straight to him or decide I was crazy. So I forced a shaky laugh, raising my hands like I’d been caught stealing cookies. “Okay, don’t freak out,” I said quickly. “I wasn’t spying. I just… overheard something.” Her eyes narrowed. “Overheard what?” “That Eliot was planning to fire some staff,” I lied smoothly, hoping my face didn’t give me away. Alice froze. Her expression shifted instantly from anger to fear. “Fire? Who?” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, though inside I was grateful my lie had landed. “That’s what I was trying to find out. I don’t know who yet. I just thought maybe if I… listened, I’d figure out more.” Her lips parted in disbelief. “You mean to tell me you were skulking around like that just to find out who’s on the chopping block?” “Yes,” I said firmly, nodding. “Look, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I just didn’t want people blindsided. That’s all.” The panic in her eyes softened a little, though the suspicion was still there. “You think… You think it could be me?” she asked, her voice quieter now. I tilted my head, studying her. She was young, maybe mid-twenties, with sharp cheekbones and a restless energy in the way she wrung her hands. Her defensiveness screamed insecurity. “What’s your name?” I asked gently, just to fulfill all righteousness. She hesitated before finally muttering, “Alice.” She confirmed. “Alice,” I repeated, giving her a reassuring smile. “I don’t think you’re on the list. But if I hear anything, I’ll make sure you know. You’ll be the first to know, okay?” Her eyes widened, a flicker of relief crossing her face. “Really?” “Yes,” I said with more conviction than I felt. “Promise.” She sighed, rubbing her arms like she was cold. “I can’t lose this job. Not now. My brother’s tuition depends on me, and—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Forget it.” I softened. Eliot wasn’t just messing up my life; he was holding all these employees in a grip of fear too. And I needed allies. I leaned closer. “Hey… can I ask you something?” Alice narrowed her eyes. “What?” I hesitated, deciding to test the waters. “Are you… one of Eliot’s mistresses?” The disgust that instantly twisted her face was so genuine I almost laughed out loud. “What?!” she snapped. “God, no. He’s married. That’s disgusting.” I blinked, stunned. I’d braced for denial or defensiveness, not pure revulsion. “So… why were you glaring at me earlier?” I asked, curious now. Alice shifted awkwardly. “Because I thought you were one of them.” That was so absurd I actually laughed. “Me? No. Definitely not.” She frowned, suspicious. “Then who are you, exactly?” I hesitated. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth — that I was Mrs. Eliot, soon-to-be-ex, trying to collect evidence to get away from him. That would only complicate things. “Let’s just say,” I said slowly, “that I don’t like Eliot nearly as much as he thinks I do. And I have my reasons for… looking into things.” Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t press. “Do you know his other mistresses?” I asked carefully. Alice snorted, folding her arms again. “Yeah. I know a few. Hard not to, honestly. He’s not exactly discreet. Half the time they strut around like they own the place.” My stomach churned. That sounded exactly like him. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the photo I’d taken of the ledger last night. My heart raced as I handed it over. “Do you recognize any of these names?” She squinted at the image, scrolling slowly. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah. A couple of these. Look—” She pointed at two names. “That’s Clara. She works in accounting. And that one—Bianca—she’s in marketing. I’ve seen them with him. Late-night meetings. Private lunches. You get the picture.” Every word made my skin crawl. “You’re sure?” I asked. “Positive,” she said flatly. “Eliot thinks no one notices, but everyone talks.” I forced a steady breath, my mind racing. Proof. I could build a list. I could find stories. “Would you… show me?” I asked quietly. Alice frowned. “Show you?” “Yes,” I said earnestly. “Introduce me to some of them. Or at least point them out. I need—” I caught myself before I said too much. “I just need to know.” She studied me like she was trying to figure out my angle. Finally, she exhaled. “Fine. I’ll show you a few. But only because I want him exposed. He plays with people’s lives, Michelle. He deserves to get burned.” A rush of relief swept through me. “Thank you, Alice. You have no idea how much this helps.” She gave me a sharp look. “Don’t thank me yet. Just don’t drag me down with you.” I nodded quickly. “I won’t. Promise.” We slipped out of the closet carefully, making sure the coast was clear. My nerves buzzed as I hurried back toward Eliot’s office. When I pushed the door open, Eliot was already there, sitting behind his desk. His eyes narrowed the second he saw me. “Where have you been?” My heart thudded. His suspicion was palpable, like he could smell guilt on me. I forced a light laugh, holding up my phone. “Restroom. And I got lost for a minute. This place is huge.” He stared at me, eyes scanning my face. My stomach knotted. Then, finally, he leaned back in his chair, the tension easing just a little. “Try not to wander,” he said, his tone clipped. “A lot is going on today. I don’t need distractions.” “Of course,” I said sweetly, slipping into the chair opposite his desk like nothing at all had happened. Inside, though, my mind was on fire. I had names now. Allies. A plan was forming. And Eliot? He had no idea.
Michelle’s POV The end of the workday finally rolled around, and I could feel my body begging for a break. My head was buzzing from staring at files all day, pretending to care about the numbers Elliot kept explaining to me. The moment his secretary announced it was closing time, I almost let out a sigh of relief. Elliot straightened his jacket, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve, and looked at me like he expected me to follow him out immediately. His presence still made my skin crawl—this whole charade of him acting like the perfect husband in front of his staff was wearing thin. “Ready to head home?” he asked smoothly whilst already pocketing his phone. I swallowed hard, knowing what I had to do. “Actually… I need to stay back a little,” I said, forcing a faint smile. “One of the staff asked me for help with something. I promised I’d check in with her.” His brows furrowed for a second, but then, strangely, his phone buzzed, and I caught the flicker of irritation he tried to hide. He quickly tucked the phone away like a guilty teenager caught texting in class. Distracted. Interesting. “Alright,” he said too quickly, nodding. “Don’t take too long.” I stared at him for a beat, suspicion crawling over me. He wasn’t pressing me, wasn’t trying to keep me glued to his side like usual. That could only mean one thing: he wanted to be somewhere else, with someone else. “You’re not going to wait for me?” I asked carefully. He waved dismissively, already glancing at his phone again. “I have some calls to make. I’ll see you at home.” My chest tightened, a sour taste forming in my mouth. So that was it. He wasn’t upset I wanted to stay—he was practically eager to get rid of me. My mind immediately jumped to the possibility of another woman. Maybe one of the names in that damn ledger. Maybe one of his mistresses. For a second, I was tempted—achingly tempted—to follow him. To grab my purse, trail behind, and see exactly who he was rushing off to meet. My fingers curled tightly around my phone. If I caught him red-handed, it would be over. But no. I had to focus. I had made plans to meet Alice tonight, and Alice was my only lead. If I messed this up, I might never get another chance. I forced myself to turn away. “See you later,” I said, keeping my tone light. He didn’t even notice the edge in my voice. By the time I glanced back, he was already striding toward the elevator, phone in hand, his jaw set like he was in a hurry. I blew out a shaky breath and texted Alice. I’m on my way. Alice was waiting for me near the employee lounge, perched nervously on the edge of a chair, tapping her nails against a coffee cup. She stood the second she saw me. “You actually came,” she said, relief flashing in her eyes. “Of course,” I replied, lowering my voice. “I need to know what you know.” Alice crossed her arms, her expression tense. “Look, I thought about what you said earlier. And… maybe you’re right. Maybe the women he… You know, dumped, would want to talk. But don’t get your hopes up.” “Why?” I frowned. “Because most of them are either still obsessed with him or too scared to open their mouths. Elliot doesn’t just charm women, Michelle, he controls them. He makes sure they’re too dependent on him to leave or too afraid to fight back.” Her words made my stomach churn, but I nodded. “Then let’s try anyway. Even if one of them were talking could help.” Alice bit her lip, hesitating before grabbing her purse. “Fine. I know where a few of them work. Follow me.” The first woman we approached worked in one of the smaller offices down the hall. Alice introduced me vaguely as a “friend,” and I stayed quiet, letting Alice do the talking. “We just wanted to ask about… well, about Elliot,” Alice said carefully. The woman’s eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head. “No. No way. I can’t talk about him. Do you want me to get fired?” Alice tried to reassure her, but she practically slammed the door in our faces. “Well,” I muttered as we walked away, “that went well.” “Told you,” Alice sighed. The second woman was easier to find. She was stunning—long legs, red lipstick, hair flowing like she had just walked out of a commercial. The kind of woman who made me immediately insecure. Alice gave her the same vague introduction, and the woman smirked. “Oh, Elliot? What about him?” “We were wondering if—” I started, but she cut me off with a sharp laugh. “Don’t bother. He’s mine. Whatever you think you’re digging up, forget it. He’ll never leave me.” She tossed her hair and gave me a condescending once-over. “You really think he’d waste his time with you?” I bit down on my tongue before I could snap back. Alice dragged me away, muttering curses under her breath. “She’s hopeless,” Alice whispered. “Completely fucking delusional,” I agreed tightly. The third woman was the worst. She looked at us with glassy eyes, as if she was desperately clinging to denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said firmly, even though Alice clearly knew her history with Elliot. “You don’t have to protect him—” Alice tried again. “I said I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the woman snapped, slamming her desk drawer shut and storming out. Alice and I stood there in silence for a long moment, both of us frustrated. “This is pointless,” Alice muttered. “They’re either terrified, in love, or pretending it never happened. We’re not going to get anywhere like this.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaustion weighing me down. “There has to be another way. We can’t just—” My words trailed off when I spotted a folded piece of paper sitting on Alice’s desk. “Did you leave that there?” I asked. Alice frowned. “No… I didn’t.” She reached for it, unfolding the note. Her eyes darted across the page, and then she sucked in a sharp breath. “What is it?” I demanded, snatching it from her. The handwriting was messy, hurried, and unsigned. I know what Elliot has been doing. I have information. In due time, I’ll release it. But you need to be careful. He hasn’t been arrested for the murder he committed. I froze, the words blurring before my eyes. “Murder?” I whispered. “What the hell is this?” Alice’s face had drained of color. “Murder? He—he killed someone?” “I—” My heart pounded so hard I could barely think. “I don’t know. I didn’t know this.” We both stood there in stunned silence, the note trembling in my hand. A chill ran down my spine. Not only was Elliot hiding affairs, manipulation, and God knows what else… but now there was this. Murder. And suddenly, the stakes felt higher than ever. Dear God, what was I getting myself into?
Michelle’s POV Alice and I sat there in silence for what felt like forever, that damn note lying between us like a ticking bomb. I could practically hear my heartbeat in my ears. “Michelle…” Alice’s voice was shaky. “What the hell did we just read?” I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to think, but the words kept echoing in my mind: the murder he committed. “I don’t know,” I whispered, my throat dry. “I honestly don’t know.” Alice pushed the note away like it might burn her fingers. “This—this isn’t just office gossip or a stupid affair. This is murder. I didn’t sign up for this.” I looked at her sharply. “Alice—” “No, I’m serious,” she cut me off, her eyes wide and panicked. “If that’s true, if Elliot actually… hurt someone, then I want nothing to do with this. I—I don’t want to end up dead too. I don’t even know why I agreed to help you in the first place.” Her voice cracked at the end, and she hugged herself tightly, like she was trying to hold her fear in. I bit down on my lip. I couldn’t let her back out now. Not when she was the only real ally I had inside the company. “Listen to me,” I said softly, leaning closer. “I didn’t tell you everything before. But maybe if you knew… maybe you’d understand why I can’t just walk away from this.” Alice glanced at me warily. “What are you talking about?” I exhaled slowly. “I’m not just some random woman poking around. I’m… Elliot’s wife.” Alice’s jaw dropped. “You’re his wife?!” “Keep your voice down!” I hissed, glancing around the nearly empty office. She blinked at me like I had just grown two heads. “You—you’re serious? All this time, I thought—” “You thought I was one of his mistresses,” I finished for her, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, I know… But no, I’m his actual wife. And I’m trying to get out. I want a divorce.” Alice’s face twisted in shock, then guilt. “I… I’m sorry. I thought…” “It’s fine,” I cut in quickly. “But do you see now? I’m trapped, Alice. He controls everything—my life, my freedom, even how people see me. And if this note is true, then he’s even more dangerous than I thought.” She swallowed hard, still looking torn. “Michelle, you don’t understand. I’ve seen what Elliot does to people who cross him. I don’t want to end up on his bad side.” “I don’t want that either,” I admitted, my voice shaking despite myself. “But if I don’t fight back, I’ll never get out of this. Please. I need help. And you’re the only one who can give it to me.” Alice pressed her lips together, her eyes darting between me and the note. She looked like she was about to bolt any second. But finally, with a frustrated sigh, she muttered, “Damn it, Michelle. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… fine. I’ll help. But if I end up in a body bag, I’m haunting you.” Relief crashed over me so hard I almost sagged in my chair. “Thank you. Seriously, Alice. I won’t forget this.” “Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand dismissively, though her face was still pale. “So what’s your big plan then? Because right now, we’ve got nothing but a scary note and a lot of paranoia.” I hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I think… You should meet someone. Someone who’s been helping me already.” Alice raised an eyebrow. “Helping you? Who?” I stood, grabbing my bag. “You’ll see. Come on.” We made our way out of the building, the tension between us thick. Alice was clearly second-guessing every step she took, but she didn’t back out. For that, I was grateful. When we finally reached the quiet café where Hayden had agreed to meet me, my nerves were on fire. Bringing Alice into this circle was risky, but I needed Hayden’s brain on this. Hayden was already there, sitting at a corner booth with his sleeves rolled up, looking far too effortlessly handsome. His sharp jaw, his warm brown eyes—ugh, why did he have to look like that? The second Alice spotted him, she froze. Her cheeks turned bright red. “That’s… that’s your friend?” she whispered, clutching my arm. “Yes,” I said flatly, though something bitter twisted in my chest at the way she was staring at him. Hayden looked up, his face softening the moment he saw me. That smile—the one that always made my heart stumble—spread across his face. But then his gaze shifted to Alice. “And you must be the one Michelle mentioned,” he said politely, standing to offer his hand. Alice blinked rapidly, clearly flustered, before shaking his hand. “—I-I’m Alice. It’s nice to… um… nice to meet you.” Hayden chuckled lightly. “You don’t have to be so nervous. I’m not that scary.” I felt my stomach twist unpleasantly. Nervous? She wasn’t nervous—she was blushing. At him. I forced a smile and slid into the booth beside Hayden, placing myself firmly between the two of them. “So, Hayden, this is Alice. She’s one of Elliot’s employees, and she’s agreed to help us.” Hayden nodded approvingly. “That’s good news. We can use all the help we can get.” Alice’s eyes practically sparkled at his praise. “I—I’ll do what I can.” I clenched my jaw, trying not to scowl. What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like I had any claim on Hayden. He was helping me, that was all. Just helping. So why did it feel like someone was stabbing me in the chest when Alice smiled at him like that? Hayden leaned back, folding his arms. “So, Alice. Michelle tells me you know a few of Elliot’s past… flings?” Alice nodded quickly, eager to be useful. “Yes. I tried talking to some of them, but they were either too scared or still obsessed with him. It wasn’t much of a success.” “Figures,” Hayden muttered darkly. “He knows how to pick them. Keeps them in his pocket.” Alice bit her lip, clearly nervous. “But maybe… maybe if we can find the right person, someone who’s truly angry with him, they’ll talk.” “Maybe,” Hayden said thoughtfully. I watched the two of them talk, Alice glowing under Hayden’s attention, Hayden giving her his calm, encouraging smiles. And all I could think was: What have I done? I dragged Alice into this world, into Hayden’s orbit. And now… now I wasn’t sure I could handle watching it play out. What the fuck was I supposed to do now??
MICHELLE’S POV I don’t know what’s worse right now, Was it the way Alice laughs like she’s known Hayden her whole life, or how he actually laughs back? What was even so fucking funny? We were supposed to be having a serious conversation here. We’re all gathered in Hayden’s study, surrounded by files, empty coffee mugs, and about seven half-eaten donuts Alice brought “for focus.” Hayden leans against his desk, sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly unbuttoned, that confident, calm expression that somehow manages to look like an invitation and a warning simultaneously. And Alice? The staff I had brought? She’s practically glowing at this point. Her hand keeps brushing her hair back, her laugh keeps getting louder, and she keeps “accidentally” touching his arm when she points at something on the screen. I want to scream. What the fuck?! Instead, I sit there quietly, pretending to scroll through data while my stomach twists itself into knots. Why was I so upset? Didn’t I say that I didn’t care whether Hayden was with another girl or not?” “So, Hayden,” Alice says in her sweet, eager tone, “what made you so good at this stuff anyway? You’re like—some kind of hacker superhero.” She laughed in a way that made me want to punch her. Hayden chuckles softly. “Superhero’s a stretch. I just know where to look.” “Oh, please,” she giggles, leaning forward. “You cracked Eliot’s private archives in less than an hour. That’s literally impossible for an average person.” “Good thing I’m not average, then,” he teases, smirking a little. Alice actually swoons at that. “Right. You definitely aren’t.” She blushes I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t get stuck. “Can we please focus?” I snap before I can stop myself. Both of them glance at me. Hayden raises a brow, that unreadable expression flickering over his face. “We are focusing, Michelle.” “Sure you are,” I mutter, pushing my chair back and pretending to read another file. Alice just gives me a small smirk, like she knows exactly what’s going on inside my head — which, to be fair, she probably does. We’ve been friends too long for me to hide my mood. “I think I found something,” Alice suddenly says, eyes wide. I glance up reluctantly. “What?” She bites her lip dramatically. “You’re not gonna believe this.” Hayden leans closer to her, curiosity lighting up his face. “Show me.” And there it is again, there is the spark and the interest I noticed earlier. My blood heats up. Alice plugs her flash drive into the laptop and pulls up a file labeled ARCHIVE-SEC-415.mp4. “It was hidden deep inside the company’s old security server. I think it’s a backup that Eliot forgot to delete.” “What’s in it?” Hayden asks, his voice suddenly more serious. “Footage,” Alice whispers. “Of Eliot. With someone. Late at night. Look.” She clicks play, and the screen flickers to life with grainy security footage. The angle is bad — a camera from one of the side exits of Eliot’s private building. It shows him standing there, hands in his pockets, talking to a woman with long hair. The timestamp reads 11:42 PM, a little over a year ago. The woman’s face is blurry, but her posture, her gestures… something about her feels hauntingly familiar. “She’s the woman who went missing,” I breathe. “The one from the employee list last year — Clara, wasn’t it?” “Yeah,” Alice says, nodding. “Clara Holt. She vanished after a late-night meeting. Everyone assumed she ran away.” “But she didn’t,” Hayden murmurs. “She was with him.” The video freezes at that moment. it cuts off just as Eliot steps closer to her. There is Static. And then, End of file. I swallow hard. “Do you think he—” Hayden shakes his head. “We can’t jump to conclusions yet. But this proves he lied. He said he never met her outside office hours.” “Which means he’s hiding something,” I whisper. Alice crosses her arms, smirking proudly. “Told you I was useful.” I glance at her sharply. Something about her tone feels… off. She looks at Hayden with a playful grin. “You see, Hayden? I told Michelle I could find something, and I did. I’m not just a pretty face.” Hayden gives her a small smile. “You did good, Alice. This could change everything.” That smile of his, oh that stupid, soft smile that makes my chest ache. I hate it. I force myself to look away, pretending to study the screen again. “So what now? The footage cuts off before we see what happens.” Alice shrugs. “I think the rest of it might be locked behind Eliot’s private server. I couldn’t access it without admin clearance.” Hayden straightens. “Then we’ll get that clearance.” I look up at him. “You mean go back into his office?” He nods. “Exactly. If the rest of that footage exists, it’s the key to proving what Eliot’s capable of.” “No,” I say quickly. “You’re not doing that again.” “Michelle—” “I said no!” I snap, louder than I meant to. “Last time, we barely made it out. If Eliot even suspects someone’s digging into him, he’ll go after you. I won’t let that happen.” He steps closer, voice low and calm. “You’re not letting me do anything, Michelle. We’re in this together.” I hate how my heart starts racing when he says that. Together. It sounds so intimate, so heavy. “Hayden,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Please. I can handle this. You don’t need to risk yourself.” “And you think I’m just gonna let you walk into his office alone?” His tone hardens. “You think I could live with myself if something happened to you? You’re my world now Michelle, and nothing is gonna fucking change that.”
Michelle’s pov “And you think I’m just gonna let you walk into his office alone?” His tone hardens. “You think I could live with myself if something happened to you? You’re my world now Michelle, and nothing is gonna fucking change that.” His words hang in the air, thick and hot. Alice awkwardly clears her throat. “Um… I’m just gonna go check if there’s more data in the cache. Yeah. You two talk.” She practically flees to the far side of the room, pretending to be busy. I glare at Hayden, but my pulse won’t calm down. “You’re being ridiculous.” He takes another step closer. “You’re being reckless.” “Someone has to be,” I whisper. “Not you,” he says firmly. “Not when it could get you killed.” His eyes are intense and sharp but full of worry. The kind of look that makes you forget how to breathe. “Why do you even care this much?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. He hesitates, studying my face like he’s trying to decide if it’s safe to tell me the truth. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “Because I can’t lose you, Michelle.” The world seems to tilt for a second. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My chest feels too tight, my throat too dry. His gaze doesn’t waver, he’s right there, inches away, his breath warm against my cheek. “Hayden,” I whisper. “Don’t…” “Don’t what?” “Don’t say things like that.” He smiles faintly. “Why not? Because it’s true?” My heart stutters. I take a small step back, trying to remember how to breathe. “Because it’ll make things complicated.” “They already are.” He’s too close. The air between us hums with something dangerous, something I shouldn’t want but do anyway. I can smell his cologne. It’s clean, warm, and faintly musky. My fingers twitch at my sides, and I have the ridiculous urge to reach up and touch his face. Instead, I take another shaky breath. “You don’t get it, Hayden. Eliot destroys people who get in his way.” He shakes his head. “You’re not just anyone to him, Michelle. You’re his weakness — and that’s exactly why you need backup.” “Then let me be smart about it,” I say. “I’ll find a way in without risking you.” He stares at me for a long moment. “You’re really gonna go back there alone?” “I have to.” “That’s suicide.” “Maybe. But if it means proving what he’s done, then fine.” His jaw tightens. “You’re impossible.” “You’ve mentioned.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if you’re doing this, you’re doing it with a plan. And you call me every ten minutes, understood?” I nod, forcing a smile. “Deal.” His eyes soften slightly, but he doesn’t move away. “Michelle,” he murmurs, voice low. “Be careful.” Before I can reply, he leans down just a little and our lips brush. Just barely. A soft, trembling, dangerous almost-kiss that feels like a secret. The moment our skin touches, my heart practically explodes. I pull back immediately, gasping. “Hayden—” He steps back too, breathing hard. “Sorry. That was—” “Yeah. Don’t,” I whisper, clutching my chest. “Don’t do that again.” He gives a quiet, almost pained laugh. “Right. Sure.” Alice suddenly clears her throat from across the room. “Uh, I’m done here. I’ll, um, head out.” I don’t even look at her. My entire body is still buzzing from that almost-kiss, and I can’t think straight. Hayden says something to Alice about the file, but I barely hear it. All I can think about is that brief, electric touch and how much I wanted it to last. When Alice leaves, I finally exhale. “I’ll figure this out,” I tell him quietly. “I promise.” He frowns. “Michelle—” But I’m already halfway to the door. “Just trust me on this, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.” I leave before he can argue, before I do something even more reckless like kiss him back. Outside, the air feels colder. The city’s quiet, too quiet. My nerves are still humming as I walk toward my car, replaying that look in his eyes over and over again. “I can’t lose you, Michelle.” God, what’s wrong with me? He’s supposed to be my ally, not whatever this is. I grip my steering wheel and let out a shaky laugh. “You’re losing it,” I mutter to myself. Then, just as I start the car, I feel it … that prickling sensation on the back of my neck. Like someone’s watching me. I glance at the rearview mirror. Empty street. Just shadows and streetlights. “Paranoia,” I whisper. “It’s just paranoia.” But as I drive off, I can’t shake the feeling that somewhere, someone is watching me or even watching us — and waiting for us to make my next move.
MICHELLE’S POV The drive to Eliot’s house feels longer than usual. Maybe it’s because my hands won’t stop trembling or my brain is screaming at me that this is a bad idea. The streetlights stretch across the windshield like streaks of guilt, and for the tenth time, I check the time. 10:42 PM. He’ll notice I’m late. He always does. My phone buzzes just as I pull into the neighborhood. I glance at the screen — Hayden. A breath of relief escapes me, even though my heart starts pounding again. I answer quickly. “Hey.” “Michelle.” His voice comes through rough and tense. “Where are you right now?” “Almost home,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “Why?” There’s a pause. Then a sigh. “I just—needed to make sure you’re okay. I know I said you could go back, but I hate this. Every second of it.” “Hayden…” He cuts me off, voice sharper now. “You’re walking into a murderer’s house, Michelle. I shouldn’t have let you go.” My chest tightens. “You didn’t let me go, remember? I made that choice.” “Yeah, and I’m an idiot for not chaining you to my damn couch,” he snaps. I can’t help it — I laugh. “You’d get sued for that, Detective.” “Worth it,” he mutters. “God, Michelle, you have no idea how much I hate this. The only reason I agreed is because I can’t stand the thought of you still married to that man if he’s capable of—” He stops himself, but I know what he means. If he’s capable of murder. The word hangs unspoken between us. I swallow hard, forcing a smile into my voice. “Relax. I’m fine. I’m just gonna act normal. Maybe he won’t even be awake.” Hayden snorts. “Yeah, right. Eliot never sleeps when he’s suspicious.” “He doesn’t know anything,” I say firmly. “And he won’t. I’ll play the doting wife for now. You just… keep doing your tech-magic and figure out the rest of that footage.” Another sigh. “You’re too brave for your own good.” “Or too bloody stupid,” I say softly. He laughs — a low, quiet sound that makes my stomach twist. “Don’t talk like that.” I hesitate for a second before asking, “Is Alice still there?” There’s silence on the other end. Then he says, “She just left. Why?” “No reason,” I reply a little too quickly. His amused tone returns. “You sound jealous.” “I’m not jealous,” I say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive. “Uh-huh.” “I just don’t think it’s professional that she flirts during work,” I add, trying to sound logical, not petty. Hayden chuckles again, and I can almost hear his smile through the phone. “You don’t have to worry about Alice.” “I’m not worried.” “Right.” He pauses. “Michelle?” “Yeah?” “Promise me you’ll be careful. If anything feels wrong, anything, you leave. You call me. No hesitation.” “I promise.” I park my car in the driveway, heart pounding as the lights from the house flicker across the hood. “I’m here,” I whisper. “Call me when you can. And, Michelle?” “Yeah?” “I meant what I said earlier. I can’t lose you.” The words hit harder this time. I close my eyes, breathing in slowly. “You won’t,” I whisper. “Goodnight, Hayden.” “Goodnight, trouble.” The nickname makes me smile despite the nerves. I hang up and stare at the phone for a second, my pulse still racing. Then I shove it into my bag before I start overthinking again. It’s ridiculous, really. I shouldn’t be jealous of Alice. She’s now my friend, and Hayden, well, he’s Hayden. Calm, composed, infuriatingly patient Hayden. It’s not like we’re together. Still… I hate how easily she makes him laugh. “Stop it,” I mutter to myself, stepping out of the car. “Focus! Focus girl!” The night air feels heavy. The house looms in front of me, big and cold and perfectly still. Every instinct screams for me to turn around, but I force my feet forward. The front door opens before I can even reach it. Eliot stands there, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp as knives. “You’re late.” I freeze. “I—there was traffic.” “At this hour?” His voice drips with disbelief. “Where exactly were you?” My throat tightens. I need to sound casual. “I went for a drive. I needed some air.” “Air,” he repeats slowly, stepping closer. “You were gone for three hours, Michelle. That’s a lot of air.” I cross my arms, trying to hide how shaky my hands feel. “I didn’t realize I had to report every breath I take now.” Eliot’s jaw tightens. “Don’t start.” “No, you don’t fucking start,” I snap before I can stop myself. “I’ve told you before, Eliot. I deserve respect. You don’t get to interrogate me like a child.” His eyes narrow. “You think you can talk to me like that?” “Yes,” I bite out. “Because I’m your wife, not your prisoner. And if you want this marriage to last, you’d better start acting like it.” For a long, tense moment, he just stares at me. My pulse hammers in my ears. I remember Hayden’s words — you’re walking into a murderer’s house. God, what if he’s right? Eliot finally looks away, his voice lower. “Fine. I won’t ask again.” That almost scares me more than his anger. I force a stiff smile. “Good. I’m going to bed.” I start to walk past him, but then a quiet voice stops me. “Michelle?” It’s Natasha, standing in the hallway with a cautious expression. She’s holding something in her hand, it was a small, silver key. “Yes?” I ask, my voice wary. She glances toward Eliot, who’s disappeared into his office, before whispering, “Here. Take this.” I frown. “What is it?” “It’s a copy of Eliot’s office key,” she says softly. “Don’t ask how I got it.” My eyes widen. “Why are you giving it to me?” “Because you’re not crazy,” she murmurs. “You’re right to be afraid. I’ve seen him sneaking around at night, locking that office like his life depends on it. If he’s hiding something, that’s where it is.” My heart starts racing. “Natasha… are you sure?” She nods, looking nervous. “I don’t want to be involved, but… just be careful, okay? If he catches you, I definitely won’t help you.” “Thank you,” I whisper, taking the key. It’s cold against my palm — cold and heavy with the weight of what it means. Natasha gives me a tight smile. “Good luck.” She turns and walks away before I can say anything else. I stare at the key in my hand, adrenaline flooding through me. This is it. This is my chance. All the fear, the doubt, the nausea — it all blends into one sharp pulse of determination. Eliot thinks he can hide whatever he’s done behind locked doors. He’s wrong. I close my fist around the key, feeling it press into my skin. “Tomorrow night,” I whisper to myself. “I’ll find out the truth.” Still, as I climb the stairs to my room, that crawling feeling returns … that awful sensation that someone’s watching me. I glance down the dark hallway. Nothing. Just silence. “It’s just paranoia,” I whisper again, but it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore. Because deep down, I know someone is watching. And it’s only a matter of time before they decide to make a move.
MICHELLE’S POV By the time the sun dipped below the trees, my nerves were shot. All day, I’d been pretending, pretending to smile, to listen, to laugh at Eliot’s dumb ass jokes, while my mind screamed for the hours to pass faster. I’d barely eaten. My stomach was too twisted with anxiety and adrenaline to hold food down anyway. When Eliot finally announced he was going to visit his “old friend,” I almost cried with relief. He took forever to leave. He double-checked his tie, his watch, even his car keys. He kissed me on the cheek before heading out—his lips cold and deliberate. The second I heard his car fade down the driveway, I grabbed the small flashlight I’d hidden under the couch cushion and the copy of his office key from Natasha. “Okay, Michelle,” I whispered to myself, trying to steady my hands. “This is it. You’re just getting in, looking around, maybe taking a few pictures. No hero moves. No panic.” Except I was already panicking. I crept down the hallway like a burglar, my socks silent against the marble floor. Every shadow looked like it was about to move, every sound like it was about to expose me. When I reached Eliot’s office door, my heart was thudding so loud it felt like the walls could hear it. I took a deep breath, slid the key into the lock, and turned it. The quiet click was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. The door swung open, and I slipped inside. The smell of his cologne hit me first—strong and cold, like cedarwood and arrogance. The room was neat, everything perfectly in place. His desk gleamed, his laptop sat closed beside a stack of papers, and a half-empty glass of whiskey sat by the window. I closed the door softly behind me. My cover story ran through my head again: If he catches me, I’ll say I left my bag here yesterday. That’s all. Just retrieving it. I crossed to the desk, careful not to leave footprints on the thick carpet. My fingers itched to touch everything. I didn’t know where to start—the drawers? The laptop? As if on cue, his laptop chimed. I froze. A WhatsApp notification flashed on the corner of the screen, then another, and another. Incoming voice call. What the hell? I leaned closer, frowning. It said “Connected to iPhone.” Which meant the laptop was synced to his phone. That also meant— A voice crackled through the speakers, deep and muffled. “Eliot? Can you hear me?” I nearly jumped out of my skin. It wasn’t on video call mode, but I could hear the voices clearly. Eliot’s familiar tone followed, calm and businesslike. “Yes. I can hear you. You said you had news about the lawyer?” My heart stopped. Another voice came through — this one older, feminine, slightly raspy like she’d smoked her whole life. “The missing lawyer who wrote the original prenup. You said you handled it.” My fingers tightened around the desk edge. Missing lawyer? Eliot’s voice lowered. “I did. There were… complications. But she’s not coming back.” The woman sighed. “And the documents?” “I still have the original,” he said. “It’s safe. No one’s seen it.” I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop a gasp. He was talking about the prenup. The one he swore had been filed and archived. The one I never got a copy of. The one that might hold my freedom. My pulse roared in my ears. The woman’s voice sharpened. “You’d better hope so. If anyone finds that contract, especially the section she warned you about, everything falls apart.” My stomach twisted. What section? What warning? Then another voice entered — male this time, low and serious. “What about your wife, Eliot? You said she’s been asking questions.” Eliot’s tone turned icy. “She’s nothing to worry about. I’ll handle her.” That’s when I realized my hands were shaking. They were talking about me. And about a murder. The female voice returned. “You’d better, because if she stumbles across anything, we’ll have to clean up another mess.” I shut the laptop quickly, pulse hammering. I couldn’t listen anymore. My brain was buzzing with too many thoughts — the lawyer, the prenup, the murder. Had he killed her? The lawyer who wrote the original contract? Was that why I never got a copy — because she was dead? I stumbled toward his filing cabinet, my flashlight trembling as I scanned labels. Projects. Clients. Legal. Legal. I opened it, rifling through folders. Receipts. Tax reports. Nothing labeled Prenup. I yanked open another drawer. More papers. Personal insurance. Stock transfers. Ugh, come on, come on— The sound of heels clicking behind me made me spin. “Michelle?” I froze. Natasha stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes blazing. Crap. “How dare you lie to me?!.” Her tone was sharp enough to cut glass. “I know what you’re fucking doing.” Oh shit! I really didn’t need this right now.
Michelle’s pov I swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.” “Oh, please,” she scoffed, storming into the room. “I heard Eliot saying you’ve been learning about the company. Playing the perfect wife again. So much for your big talk about divorce.” My stomach dropped. “That’s not what’s happening.” She stepped closer, jabbing a finger at me. “You think you can just flirt your way back into his trust? You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” I took a shaky step back. “Natasha, you’ve got it wrong—” “No, you have it wrong!” she snapped. “He’s mine. You’re just using him!” “What?” I blinked. “What are you talking about?” Her expression twisted with jealousy. “You think you can play innocent? I see how he looks at you again.” My patience snapped. “I don’t want him!” I yelled. “You can have him for all I care!” That stunned her into silence. Then, lower, I added, “He’s a murderer, Natasha.” The color drained from her face. “What?” “You heard me,” I said, voice shaking. “He murdered someone. I overheard his call. A missing lawyer wrote our prenup—he did something to her.” Natasha’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked genuinely rattled, but then her expression hardened again. “You’re lying.” “I’m not,” I said. “You think I’d make that up?” She hesitated, looking toward the door, then back at me. That moment of distraction was all I needed. I spotted a small USB drive sitting near the edge of Eliot’s desk. Without thinking, I reached for it and slipped it into my pocket. When I looked back, Natasha’s eyes had narrowed. “You just took something,” she said quietly. I swallowed. “No, I—” Her gaze turned icy. “You really have no idea what you’re messing with, do you?” “What do you mean?” I asked, stepping back. She hesitated, then whispered, “You don’t know who Eliot really answers to.” “What are you talking about?” Before she could reply, the sound of a car engine rolled up the driveway. Both our heads snapped toward the window. Natasha’s eyes went wide. “He’s back.” “Already? Fuck!!” I hissed. “Hide!” she said, rushing toward the lights. I killed the flashlight and shut the laptop just as headlights flashed across the window. My heart was in my throat as Natasha and I both scrambled to shove drawers closed, straighten the papers, anything to make the room look untouched. The sound of the front door opening made me freeze. “Michelle?” Eliot’s voice echoed down the hall. “Are you home?” Natasha grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the closet. “In here,” she whispered urgently. We slipped inside just as footsteps approached. I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying not to breathe. Through the thin crack in the door, I could see Eliot’s silhouette enter the office. He looked around slowly, his gaze sweeping over the desk, the papers, the floor. Then he frowned, picking up the whiskey glass. “Strange,” he muttered to himself. “I didn’t leave this here.” My pulse was so loud I thought he’d hear it. Natasha’s hand was gripping mine so tightly it hurt. After a few agonizing seconds, his phone rang again. He answered it, his tone calm. “Yes. I’m home now. No, everything’s fine. She doesn’t suspect a thing.” My blood ran cold. He was talking about me. Again. After a few more murmured words, he left the office, shutting the door behind him. We waited another full minute before Natasha finally let out a shaky breath. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “That was too close.” I nodded, barely able to speak. My hands were trembling so badly I could barely stand. When we finally stepped out of the closet, the air felt thinner, colder. I clutched the pocket where the USB sat. I didn’t know what was on it, but whatever it was, it might be the thing that finally brings Eliot down. Natasha glanced at me, her eyes still wide. “You’re insane for doing this,” she muttered. “Maybe,” I said softly, “but it’s the only way to end this.” And as I slipped out of the office that night, every step heavy with adrenaline, one thought pulsed through my mind — Eliot wasn’t just hiding a secret. He was hiding many. And whatever he’d done to that lawyer… I was next if I wasn’t careful.
Michelle’s POV I called Hayden the moment I locked the office door behind me. My hands were still shaking, and the adrenaline hadn’t faded. Natasha’s warning kept looping in my head like a bad echo. “You don’t know who he really answers to.” The words wouldn’t leave me alone. The call barely rang twice before Hayden picked up. “Michelle?” His voice was sharp, like he’d been expecting something bad. “Are you okay?” I leaned back against my bedroom wall, exhaling. “Define okay,” I said, forcing a nervous laugh. “I just broke into my husband’s office, got into a fight with Natasha, and may or may not have stolen something from his desk.” There was silence for a second. Then: “You what?” I winced. “Don’t yell. You’ll make me feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house.” “Michelle, you can’t keep staying there,” Hayden snapped. “I told you it’s not safe! If he’s really connected to a murder—” “I know,” I cut in quickly, not wanting to hear the rest. “But I had to do it. You should’ve heard what I overheard on the call tonight, Hayden. Eliot was talking about the missing lawyer — the same woman who wrote the original prenup. The one I never got a copy of.” He went quiet again. I could practically hear him thinking through the line. “The lawyer who went missing last year?” he finally asked. “Yes,” I said softly. “He mentioned her like… like she wasn’t really gone. Or maybe he knows what happened to her. I don’t know. But I swear, it felt wrong.” “Michelle…” His voice softened now, the edge replaced with worry. “I should’ve never let you stay there.” “Hayden, you didn’t let me,” I said, walking over to the window and peering through the blinds. Eliot’s car was gone — for now. “You just didn’t stop me. And I’m fine, really.” “Fine?” he echoed. “You fought Natasha, stole a USB, and you think the man you’re married to might be a killer. That doesn’t sound fine, Michelle.” I bit my lip and smiled despite the situation. “You know, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of insane.” He groaned softly. “You’re impossible or crazy.” “I prefer resilient,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, if it helps, I kind of wish I were with you instead.” That made him go quiet again, but this time the silence wasn’t tense — it was charged. “Careful,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher. “You say things like that, and I’ll start believing you mean it.” “Maybe I do,” I said before I could stop myself. The line crackled. “Michelle…” I swallowed. “Hayden…” A beat passed, and I felt my heart racing. It was too much. Too soon. I could feel my emotions tangling together — fear, confusion, attraction, exhaustion — all mixing in a way that made me dizzy. I quickly cleared my throat. “Anyway,” I said, forcing a nervous laugh. “You were saying something about me being reckless?” Hayden sighed, clearly realizing I’d changed the subject on purpose. “Right. Reckless.” He paused. “You know… I might have a lead. My friend Ethan — he once dated one of my dad’s old lawyers. I’m not sure if it’s the same woman Eliot mentioned, but it’s worth asking.” I straightened up, hope flickering through my chest. “You think she’d talk to us?” “Maybe,” he said. “She broke up with Ethan years ago, but I can reach out. I’ll call him tonight. If she’s alive, or if she knows something about the prenup… it might explain a lot.” “Good,” I said, pacing slowly. “Let’s visit him tomorrow. Together.” “You sure Eliot won’t get suspicious?” “I’ll make something up,” I said simply. “I’m getting good at lying to him anyway.” He sighed again. “I hate that you have to do this alone.” I smiled softly, trying to push away the ache that rose in my chest. “I’m not alone,” I said. “I have you.” For a second, neither of us said anything. Then, almost reluctantly, I whispered, “Goodnight, Hayden.” “Goodnight, Michelle. Lock your doors please .” “I always do,” I lied. I hung up and threw my phone on the bed. My heart was still beating faster than it should. The warmth in his voice lingered long after the call ended, and I hated how much I liked it. I showered, changed into an oversized T-shirt, and climbed into bed. Sleep didn’t come easily — my thoughts were tangled between what I’d heard on Eliot’s call and the image of Hayden’s half-smile. I tossed, turned, counted imaginary sheep, and cursed my brain for not shutting up. At some point, exhaustion must have won, because the next thing I knew, I was half-asleep when a soft creak broke through the silence. My eyes fluttered open. The room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the city outside my window. Then I saw him. Eliot. He was standing at the foot of my bed. My heart dropped to my stomach. “Eliot?” I whispered, sitting up. “What are you doing here?” He was in his usual expensive black shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy. He looked calm — too calm. “It’s my house,” he said quIetly, stepping closer. “And you’re my wife.” Every nerve in my body screamed at the way he said my wife. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes roaming over me. “It’s been a while since we’ve… shared a room,” he said, his tone dangerously smooth. I crossed my arms. “And it’s going to stay that way.” He tilted his head. “You sure? Because lately, you’ve been… different.” “Different how?” I asked cautiously. “Bolder,” he said. “Distant, but bold. It’s almost like you’re trying to make me chase you again.” I scoffed. “You’re delusional.” He smirked. “Am I?” He reached out, brushing his fingers against my arm. “You forget, I know you, Michelle. Every little thing. Every sigh. Every lie.” I slapped his hand away and stood up. “Don’t touch me.” His expression hardened. “You’re still my wife.” “And you’re still a fucking liar,” I shot back. That hit him. His jaw tightened. “Careful, Michelle. You’re starting to sound like you know something you shouldn’t.” I met his gaze, unflinching even though my pulse was hammering. “Maybe I do.” He took a step closer, his voice low. “What did you hear?” “Nothing,” I lied quickly. “And even if I did, you wouldn’t admit it.” He smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. “You really should be careful, darling. People who dig too deep tend to get buried in their own mess.” I clenched my fists. “Are you threatening me now?” He shrugged. “I’m reminding you of your place.” That was it. Something in me snapped. “My place?” I repeated, voice trembling with anger. “You lost the right to say that the moment you decided to treat me like a stranger in my own marriage.” Eliot’s face darkened. “You don’t talk to me like that.” “Oh, I will,” I said, stepping up to him. “Because I’m not scared of you anymore, Eliot. You might manipulate everyone else, but not me. Not again.” He stared at me for a long moment, his breathing heavy. Then, surprisingly, he laughed softly. “You’ve changed.” “I had to,” I said coldly. “You forced me to.” For a second, I thought he might lunge at me. Instead, he leaned close, his voice barely above a whisper. “You can keep pretending you hate me, Michelle. But deep down, you’re still mine.” “Get out,” I hissed. He raised a brow. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room.” Eliot’s smirk faded. “You don’t order me around in my house.” “Then I’ll start packing,” I said. “Because I’m not sleeping here if you stay.” Something in my tone must’ve told him I meant it, because he stared at me for a long moment — then turned sharply and walked out, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the walls, and I stood there, shaking, staring at the door like it might burst open again any second. After a long minute, I finally exhaled. I locked the door, then leaned against it, feeling my heartbeat gradually slow down. Only then did it hit me — the fear, the fury, the disgust, all at once. He could’ve hurt me. If I hadn’t pushed him away, if I hadn’t stood my ground… I rubbed my arms, trying to shake the chill crawling down my spine. As I turned off the light and crawled back into bed, I stared at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I had to get out. But first, I needed answers. About the prenup. About the lawyer. About him. And about whoever Eliot really answered to. Because the way Natasha had said it… It didn’t sound like a figure of speech. It sounded like a warning. Somewhere outside, a car door slammed. I froze, listening. Footsteps. Then silence. I swallowed hard, telling myself it was just Eliot leaving again. Or a neighbor. Or maybe the wind. I turned toward the window — but there was nothing. Just the soft glow of the streetlights against the curtains. “Paranoia,” I whispered to myself. “It’s just paranoia.” But deep down, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
Michelle Pov I did my best to avoid Eliot like the plague for the next two days. It wasn’t easy, considering we still lived under the same roof. Every morning, I’d time my movements carefully — wait until he was in the shower before heading downstairs, linger in the car pretending to check emails until I saw him drive off, and take my meals in my room under the excuse of “work stress.” It was pathetic, really. But it was working. Or at least, I thought it was. The real problem wasn’t Eliot. It was Natasha. She was everywhere. If I went to the kitchen, she was “just cleaning.” If I were working in the living room, she was “organizing paperwork.” And whenever Eliot wasn’t home, she’d suddenly get chatty, dropping thinly veiled hints that she didn’t believe my “divorce” talk. It was like living under surveillance. That morning, she followed me right up until I reached the door. “Going somewhere, Michelle?” she asked, her tone dripping with fake politeness. I forced a calm smile, hand on the doorknob. “Yes. I have an appointment.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “With who?” “Does it matter?” She tilted her head. “You seem to be leaving the house a lot lately. My darling. Eliot was asking about it.” “Then tell him I’m interviewing lawyers,” I said smoothly. “Unless you’d like me to forward my schedule to both of you?” She glared at me, but I didn’t wait for her response. I opened the door and stepped out into the cool air, my heart pounding. God, she was exhausting. Hayden’s car was already parked at the curb, and just seeing him waiting there made me relax a little. He leaned out the window, smirking. “You look like you just escaped prison.” “Pretty close,” I muttered as I climbed in. “You have no idea how suspicious she’s gotten. Natasha watches me like she’s waiting for me to slip.” “Maybe she is,” he said, pulling away from the house. “Maybe Eliot told her to.” “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” He glanced at me. “You sure you’re okay?” I nodded, even though I wasn’t. “I’ll survive. What about your friend? You said he agreed to meet us?” “Yeah,” Hayden said. “His name’s Marcus. He’s—uh—kind of a big deal. Billionaire tech investor, old family money, lots of charm. The kind of guy who gets what he wants.” I raised a brow. “Sounds dangerous already.” He laughed. “He’s harmless. Mostly. Just… don’t be surprised if he flirts a little. He does that with everyone.” “Oh great,” I said dryly. “Just what I need — another arrogant man who thinks he’s irresistible.” Hayden smirked. “At least this one won’t try to kill you.” “Comforting,” I said with a sigh. The drive to Marcus’s estate took about forty minutes, and the further we went, the bigger the houses got. By the time we pulled into his gated driveway, I was convinced his property alone could fit Eliot’s mansion twice over. The house itself wasn’t just big — it was ridiculous. Three floors of glass and steel, fountains on either side of the entrance, and a view of the ocean so perfect it looked fake. “Wow,” I breathed. “Is this a house or a movie set?” Hayden grinned. “Both, probably.” We parked near the entrance, and the massive front doors swung open before we even reached them. Marcus stood there, looking all tall, lean, maybe late thirties. His dark hair was styled perfectly, and his smile was the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Hayden!” he said warmly, clapping him on the shoulder before turning his attention to me. “And you must be Michelle.” I smiled politely. “That’s right. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.” “Are you kidding? I should be thanking you for brightening up my day,” Marcus said, his eyes sweeping over me in a way that made my skin prickle. “Hayden told me you were beautiful, but he undersold it.” Hayden groaned. “Marcus—” “What? I’m just being honest,” Marcus said, his tone playful. “Come on in.” The interior was somehow even more extravagant — modern art, marble floors, a spiral staircase that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. He led us into a lounge area with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water. “Can I get you both anything? Coffee? Wine? I make a mean espresso.” “Coffee’s fine,” I said quickly, ignoring the way he was still looking at me. Hayden shot me a small smile like he was silently saying told you so. When Marcus returned with the drinks, he set mine down carefully and then leaned back, studying me again. “So, Michelle. You’re the one married to Eliot Winters?” “Yes,” I said. “Unfortunately.” He chuckled. “You say that like you regret it.” “I do.” Hayden cleared his throat. “Marcus, we’re here for information, remember?” Marcus smirked. “Right, right. The lawyer.” He set down his cup and leaned forward. “My father had a lawyer years ago named Vivian Hart. Brilliant woman. Handled most of his contracts before she suddenly disappeared. Rumor was, she got in trouble with the wrong client. Sound familiar?” My heart skipped. “Eliot mentioned a lawyer who went missing… that might be her.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Could be. Vivian handled a lot of high-profile prenups, including a few for Eliot’s company back when he was expanding his firm.” Hayden looked at me. “That fits the timeline.” Marcus glanced between us. “So, what’s this about, exactly? Eliot is trying to hide something in the prenup?” I hesitated, but Hayden gave me a small nod — go on. “There’s something wrong with the one I signed,” I admitted. “It’s missing, and Eliot’s been acting strange. We think it might be connected to Vivian’s disappearance.” Marcus whistled softly. “That’s heavy stuff, Michelle.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “You sure you can trust Hayden with this?” I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Because he’s been my friend for years,” Marcus said smoothly, “and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.” I blinked, caught completely off guard.
Michelle Pov I blinked, caught completely off guard. Hayden groaned. “Marcus—” Marcus laughed. “Relax, man. I’m just saying it’s obvious. And I get it.” He turned back to me, smiling. “You’re… magnetic. It’s distracting.” My cheeks heated. “Uh… thank you?” He chuckled. “Sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “You are,” Hayden muttered under his breath. Marcus only grinned wider. “Good. That means I’m doing it right.” I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the awkward twist in my stomach. “So, about Vivian—” “Oh, right,” Marcus said, reluctantly turning serious again. “I might still have some of her old files. My father kept duplicates of everything. I’ll have my assistant pull them up.” “That would be amazing,” I said quickly, eager to shift the focus back to business. As he stood and made a call, Hayden leaned closer to me. “See? I told you he flirts with everyone.” “Yeah,” I muttered. “But somehow, I think it’s just me today.” Hayden smirked. “You jealous? I glared at him. “Of what, exactly?” “Of him liking you,” he said simply. “Because he does.” I looked away, pretending to admire the view. “That’s ridiculous.” Hayden chuckled softly. “Sure.” Before I could respond, Marcus returned. “Good news. My assistant’s checking the archives. In the meantime…” He handed me another coffee and leaned casually against the back of the couch. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, Michelle? I like to know the people I’m helping.” I hesitated. “There’s not much to tell.” “Oh, come on,” he said, smiling. “Beautiful, brave woman digging into her husband’s secrets — there’s definitely a story there.” “I’m just trying to survive,” I said honestly. His expression softened. “Then let me help.” I blinked. “You already are.” “I mean more than this.” His gaze locked with mine, intense now. “You don’t deserve whatever that man’s put you through. If you ever need anything — protection, resources, a place to stay — you come to me.” I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Hayden’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and irritated. “Marcus, tone it down.” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “I’m offering support.” “You’re hitting on a married woman.” “She just said she regrets it,” Marcus countered easily. “And besides, it’s not like you aren’t interested.” The air in the room went thick. “Marcus,” Hayden said through clenched teeth, “you’re out of line.” Marcus smirked. “Maybe. But I’m not wrong.” I stood abruptly. “Okay, that’s enough. We didn’t come here to argue over who’s interested in me. We came here for answers.” Marcus immediately looked apologetic. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Michelle. I crossed a line.” Hayden sighed and rubbed his forehead. “You think before you talk, man.” “Not my strongest trait,” Marcus admitted, half-grinning. “But I do mean it — if you need help, you can count on me. No strings attached.” “Thanks,” I said awkwardly, unsure what else to say. We spent another half hour reviewing old files his assistant found. Most were harmless — business contracts, land deals, correspondence logs. But one folder was encrypted and labeled only “Client: E.W.” Eliot Winters. Marcus frowned. “That one’s locked. I can try to get access, but it might take a day or two.” “Please,” I said immediately. “It could be important.” He nodded. “Consider it done.” When it was finally time to leave, Marcus walked us out to the car. “It was a pleasure, Michelle,” he said, holding my hand a little too long. “I hope I’ll see you again soon.” I forced a smile. “Thanks, Marcus. For everything.” “Anytime,” he said, his gaze lingering as Hayden opened the passenger door for me. The moment we were inside and driving down the road, Hayden let out a low whistle. “He’s definitely into you.” “Please don’t start,” I muttered, staring out the window. “I’m just saying, he doesn’t act that way with anyone else.” “Hayden, I don’t have time for that right now.” He glanced at me. “You’re blushing.” “I’m annoyed,” I corrected. “He was making things awkward. And so are you.” He laughed softly. “Alright, alright.” Silence filled the car for a while — but it wasn’t uncomfortable. My thoughts were spinning too fast to feel anything else. Marcus had mentioned an encrypted file. If it really was about Eliot, that could be the key to everything — the prenup, the missing lawyer, maybe even proof of what he’d done. But as much as that excited me, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Marcus had looked at me. Or the way Hayden had glared at him. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to do. Between Eliot’s secrets, Natasha’s spying, and two men who clearly had feelings for me — I wasn’t sure who I could trust anymore. And deep down, a part of me wondered if I was already in way too deep.
Michelle’s POV I should’ve known from the moment Marcus walked in that this was going to get complicated. The man oozed the kind of charm that money couldn’t buy — the kind that came from knowing everyone wanted something from him. His black shirt fit too perfectly, and his watch alone probably cost more than my car. But it was his eyes — calculating, sharp, and just a little too interested — that told me I needed to tread carefully. Hayden and I sat across from him in his luxury penthouse, the city skyline stretching behind him like a painting. Marcus leaned back on the couch, sipping his whiskey like this was a casual reunion instead of a mission to find answers. “So,” Marcus said, his tone lazy but his gaze flicking between Hayden and me. “You show up after all these years, and you bring this beautiful woman with you. I’m guessing this isn’t just a social call.” Hayden exhaled slowly. “We need to ask about Vivian.” The air changed instantly. Marcus’s expression hardened. The name alone seemed to crack through the charming façade. “Vivian?” Marcus repeated, setting his glass down. “You mean my ex? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hayden leaned forward. “You said once your father knew her. She used to work with mine’s legal team, right?” Marcus smirked, but his eyes darkened. “Yeah, she did. Until she vanished. Haven’t heard that name in years.” I exchanged a look with Hayden. He gave a subtle nod — my cue to speak. “Vivian wrote the original prenup between me and Eliot,” I said carefully. “But something happened to her after that. We think it might be connected to Eliot.” Marcus looked at me with interest now, really looking — his eyes scanning my face as though he was searching for something familiar. “So, you’re the wife,” he said slowly. “The one everyone’s whispering about.” I stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He smiled faintly. “Just that I’ve heard things, Michelle. You’re braver than most women I’ve met — coming here with him.” He nodded toward Hayden. “Especially since Eliot doesn’t exactly play nice.” I crossed my arms, ignoring the way my stomach flipped. “I didn’t come here for compliments. I came for answers.” He laughed quietly. “I like her,” he said to Hayden. “She’s got bite.” Hayden’s jaw tensed. “Marcus—” “Relax,” Marcus cut in smoothly, still looking at me. “You know, Vivian was brilliant. She was young, idealistic — thought she could fix the world through contracts. But she made mistakes. The kind that powerful men don’t forgive.” “What kind of mistakes?” I pressed. Marcus hesitated, glancing at Hayden. “Why are you even asking about her? You think Eliot had something to do with her disappearance?” “We don’t think,” Hayden said flatly. “We know he’s hiding something. Michelle found evidence in his office.” Marcus raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You searched his office? Damn, sweetheart. You’ve got guts.” I ignored the endearment, even though it made Hayden stiffen beside me. “So, tell us,” I said, leaning forward. “What was the mistake?” He swirled his glass for a moment before smirking. “I don’t think I should talk about Vivian. Not tonight.” Hayden’s voice dropped, warning in his tone. “Marcus.” Marcus held up a hand. “Hey, I’m not trying to be difficult. But you’re asking me to dig up ghosts, Hayden. And I don’t do that for free.” I frowned. “What do you want?” Marcus’s lips curved into a slow smile — the kind that said he’d been waiting for me to ask. “Dinner.” “Dinner?” I echoed. “With you,” he clarified, eyes locking on mine. “Just you, no bodyguard, no husband, no ex. You have dinner with me, and I’ll tell you exactly what Vivian’s mistake was.” Hayden immediately stood up. “You’re out of your damn mind.” Marcus just chuckled. “You always were too serious, Hayden. I’m not asking her to marry me. Just a dinner. It’s business — well, mostly.” His eyes lingered on me, slow and deliberate. I could feel Hayden’s anger radiating beside me. “She’s not doing that,” he snapped. “Hayden,” I said quietly, trying to calm him. He turned to me, eyes blazing. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?” I swallowed. “We need information. If Marcus knows something about Vivian and the prenup—” “He’s manipulating you,” Hayden interrupted. “Maybe,” I admitted. “But we’ve got nothing else right now.” Marcus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Listen, I get it. You don’t trust me. But Vivian made a legal error — a serious one — and it’s connected to Eliot’s fortune. If you want to know what that is, I’ll tell you… after dinner. Tomorrow night.” Hayden glared. “Why not just tell us now?” Marcus shrugged. “Because some things are better discussed in private.” His gaze flicked to me again. “Preferably over candlelight.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re unbelievable.” He grinned. “I try.” Hayden looked like he wanted to punch him, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. But something in Marcus’s tone told me he really did know something. “Michelle,” Hayden said under his breath, “this isn’t safe.” “I’ll be fine,” I said quietly. “I can handle him.” Marcus smirked. “See? She believes in herself. That’s more than I can say for you, Hayden.” Hayden’s fists clenched. “You’re crossing a line.” “And you’re overreacting,” Marcus shot back. “You came to me for help, remember? I didn’t beg to be involved.” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Okay, enough. Marcus, if I agree to dinner, you’ll talk about Vivian?” He smiled triumphantly. “Absolutely.” “Tomorrow night?” “Eight o’clock. I’ll send a car.” I hesitated, then nodded. “Fine.” Hayden exhaled sharply. “Michelle—” “I said fine,” I repeated firmly. “If this gets us closer to the truth, then it’s worth it.” Marcus stood, extending his hand to me. “Then it’s a date.” I ignored the gesture and stood on my own. “It’s an interrogation, not a date.” He chuckled. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” As we left the penthouse, Hayden was silent. I could practically feel his frustration vibrating in the air. When we got to the car, he finally spoke. “You can’t go.” I buckled my seatbelt. “I already said I would.” “He’s not safe, Michelle.” I shot him a look. “And Eliot is? At least Marcus doesn’t have blood on his hands.” Hayden gripped the steering wheel tighter. “You don’t understand the kind of man Marcus is. He’s a player — rich, manipulative, and always looking for leverage. You think he’s doing this out of kindness?” “No,” I admitted. “But I can use him, too. If he wants to flirt, fine. If it gets us information, I’ll play along.” Hayden turned to look at me, his jaw tense. “You’re really willing to risk that?” I met his eyes. “I’ve risked worse.” For a moment, he said nothing. Then, in a quieter voice, he said, “I don’t like the way he looked at you.” I blinked. “Are you jealous?” His lips twitched. “Maybe. You can’t blame me, though. You’re beautiful, Michelle.” I felt my face heat. “Stop.” He grinned. “I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who drives me this crazy.” “Then you should’ve stayed away,” I said lightly, trying to mask how his words made my heart stutter. He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” “And you’re overprotective,” I countered. We both laughed softly, the tension easing for a moment — but only for a moment. Because deep down, I knew tomorrow’s dinner wouldn’t just be about information. Marcus was dangerous in a different way — charming, powerful, and unpredictable. And if I wasn’t careful, I might end up playing a game I couldn’t win. That night, back in my room, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Marcus’s smug smile, Hayden’s jealousy, the way both men seemed to orbit my life now — one trying to control it, the other trying to protect it. And me? I was somewhere in the middle, trying not to fall apart. I curled up on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow might bring answers about the prenup, maybe even about Vivian’s disappearance. But it would also bring trouble. Because men like Marcus didn’t give without taking something in return. And I had a feeling I was about to find out just how much he wanted.
Michelle’s POV It was barely noon when my phone started buzzing across the kitchen counter. I glanced at the screen — an unfamiliar number. “Hello?” I answered cautiously. “Well, good morning, beautiful.” My spine stiffened immediately. That voice — confident, low, smooth as velvet — could only belong to one person. “Marcus?” I breathed. “How did you get my number?” He chuckled softly on the other end, like he found my shock adorable. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. I’m a billionaire. I could find the President’s number if I wanted to.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “That’s creepy, Marcus.” “Creepy?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I’d call it resourceful.” “What do you want?” I asked flatly. “You sound tense. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about our little deal?” My lips pressed together. “You mean your blackmail deal? The one where you said you’d only tell me about Vivian if I had dinner with you?” “Blackmail is such an ugly word,” he said smoothly. “Let’s call it a… mutually beneficial arrangement.” “Mutually beneficial my ass,” I muttered. “You just want to flirt.” He laughed, deep and rich. “Can you blame me?” Before I could respond, another voice cut in from the background — a woman’s. “Marcus, who are you talking to?” My stomach dropped. That voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. “Wait,” I said, my pulse picking up. “Was that… Ivonne?” There was a pause, then Marcus sighed. “You’re sharp, I’ll give you that. Yes, I’m at Ivonne’s place. She’s… an old friend.” “You’re at Ivonne’s house?” I asked incredulously. “As in Hayden’s ex?” “She’s not my ex,” Marcus corrected lazily. “And she’s not his, either. From what I gather, they were never officially together.” “Oh my God,” I muttered. “This just keeps getting worse.” “Relax,” he said teasingly. “She called me this morning. We were discussing some mutual business interests — and then I may have mentioned you.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why would you mention me?” “Because,” he said simply, “you fascinate me.” I was about to tell him off when another voice joined the line — clear, feminine, and unmistakably irritated. “Michelle?” “Ivonne?” I said, dumbfounded. “Why are you with him?” “I could ask you the same thing,” she said dryly. “He just told me you came to him asking about Vivian.” I bit back a groan. “Oh, great. So now he’s sharing my business too.” “Don’t be mad,” Marcus said lightly. “I thought it was interesting that both of you are caught up in this prenup mess. Seems like fate.” “Fate?” I repeated, scoffing. “This isn’t a romance movie, Marcus. It’s my life.” “Exactly,” he said, amused. “Which makes it so much more exciting.” Ivonne sighed on the other end. “Marcus, please stop toying with her.” “Who said I’m toying?” he countered. “I’m being honest. Michelle’s the only woman who’s ever made me consider telling the truth about something.” I rolled my eyes. “And I’m supposed to believe that?” “You don’t have to,” he said smoothly. “But I do have more information. Something Vivian told me before she disappeared.” My heartbeat quickened. “What kind of information?” Marcus hesitated, which only made me more anxious. “She mentioned something about a second contract,” he said finally. “A backup version of the prenup — one that Eliot never wanted anyone to see.” I froze. “A second contract?” “That’s what she said,” he replied. “She was scared — said Eliot found out about it. And not long after that… she was gone.” “Gone?” Ivonne repeated sharply. “You mean killed?” “I never said that,” Marcus replied carefully. “But people don’t just disappear without a trace.” My mind was spinning. Vivian made a backup prenup? That could change everything. That could be proof. “Do you still have it?” I asked quickly. Marcus chuckled. “If I did, sweetheart, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you. But…” I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “But?” “But I know someone who might.” “Marcus,” Ivonne cut in sharply. “If you have information, just say it. Stop playing games.” “Games?” he echoed innocently. “I’m not playing. I’m just… negotiating.” I groaned. “What do you want this time?” “The same thing I asked for before,” he said. “Dinner. With you. No interruptions this time.” Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again — another incoming call. Hayden. Of course.
Michelles pov I switched to conference mode and added him to the line. “Michelle?” his voice came through immediately, low and serious. “Why didn’t you answer earlier? I’ve been calling you.” “I was on the phone,” I said quickly. “With Marcus. And Ivonne.” There was a beat of silence. Then Hayden’s voice turned sharp. “You’re what?” Marcus chuckled softly. “Hello to you too, Hayden. Still as polite as ever.” “What the hell are you doing with Ivonne?” Hayden demanded. “She invited me over,” Marcus replied smoothly. “We’re having a lovely chat. Don’t worry, she’s perfectly safe.” Hayden swore under his breath. “If you touch her—” “Relax,” Marcus interrupted. “She’s not my type.” Then he paused. “Michelle, on the other hand…” “Marcus,” I warned, heat rising to my face. Hayden’s tone dropped, dangerous now. “You stay away from her.” “Or what?” Marcus asked, amused. “You’ll come over and throw another one of your famous punches?” “Marcus,” Ivonne cut in, clearly exasperated. “Stop provoking him.” “Fine, fine,” Marcus sighed. “I’ll behave.” Hayden took a deep breath, his tone clipped. “You said you had more information about Vivian.” “I might,” Marcus said casually. “Then tell us,” Hayden snapped. “Not over the phone,” Marcus said. “This is sensitive information.” “Then we’ll meet,” Hayden said. Marcus hesitated. “I’ll meet Michelle. Alone.” Hayden immediately cursed. “Not happening.” “Hayden,” I said quietly, “if it gets us the information—” “No,” he cut in sharply. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.” “She’ll be perfectly safe,” Marcus said lightly. “I’m a gentleman.” “You’re a predator,” Hayden shot back. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “Both of you, stop it. This isn’t helping.” Ivonne’s voice came through, calm but firm. “Hayden, listen. We need this. If Marcus knows anything about a second prenup, it could prove everything Michelle’s been saying.” “I know,” Hayden muttered. “But that doesn’t mean she has to be alone with him.” “She won’t be alone,” Ivonne said. “I’ll be there too.” Marcus laughed softly. “What, like a chaperone? How adorable.” “I’m serious,” Ivonne said sharply. “If you want to talk, it’ll be with both of us present.” Marcus hummed thoughtfully. “You drive a hard bargain, Ivonne. But fine — I’ll allow it.” “Allow it?” I repeated, incredulous. “You’re not in charge here.” “True,” he said with a grin in his voice. “But I do hold the answers. Which gives me some leverage, don’t you think?” Hayden growled under his breath. “You’re enjoying this way too much.” “Of course I am,” Marcus said cheerfully. “You should see the way Michelle’s voice gets all soft when she’s curious. It’s adorable.” I groaned. “Marcus, I swear—” “What?” he teased. “You’ll punish me?” “Marcus!” Ivonne snapped. He laughed. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. Look, I’ll send the address for tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. And if you’re all lucky, maybe I’ll tell you what Vivian’s ‘mistake’ really was.” Hayden’s tone was ice. “You so much as touch her, and I swear—” “I know, I know,” Marcus said lazily. “You’ll kill me. You’ve said that before. But you won’t, Hayden. Because you need me.” There was silence for a moment. Then, with a low click, Marcus hung up. I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath. “Well, that went… great,” I muttered. Hayden groaned. “He’s a snake.” “Maybe,” Ivonne said quietly. “But snakes sometimes guard the secrets we need.” Hayden sighed. “Ivonne—” “She’s right,” I interrupted. “We can’t ignore this. If Marcus knows something, we have to hear him out.” Hayden was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t like it, Michelle.” “I know,” I said softly. “But you don’t have to. Just trust me.” He hesitated, then said, “I always do.” That small confession hit me harder than I expected. My chest tightened, my voice softer. “Then let me do this.” Ivonne cleared her throat. “Alright, you two. Save the flirting for later. We’ve got work to do.” Hayden let out a dry laugh. “You always know how to ruin a moment.” “I try,” she said. “But seriously, Michelle — be careful tomorrow. Marcus is clever, and he knows exactly how to get under people’s skin.” “Trust me,” I said. “I’ve already noticed.” Hayden sighed again. “I’ll follow you there.” “Hayden—” “Don’t argue. I’ll stay outside. You won’t even see me.” I smiled faintly. “Fine. But if you break into the restaurant and start a scene, I’m pretending I don’t know you.” He laughed softly. “No promises.” When the call finally ended, I sat there staring at my phone, heart still pounding. Marcus had Vivian’s secrets. Hayden had jealousy. Ivonne had logic. And me? I was right in the middle of it — the girl everyone wanted something from, but who wasn’t sure who to trust anymore. Still, I knew one thing for sure. Tomorrow’s “meeting” wasn’t just about the prenup. It was about control — who had it, who was losing it, and who I’d have to outsmart to survive this game. And something told me Marcus wasn’t the only one who’d be playing.
Michelle’s POV I told myself I wouldn’t be nervous. That I was going there for information and not a date. But the second I stepped into Marcus Hale’s other house, this one was a penthouse, my confidence began to unravel. The man had taste. The kind of taste that screamed money. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the living room, showing off a skyline that looked painted by a god. Everything glowed glass, gold, and expensive art that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. And there he was. Marcus. He was sitting casually on the couch, a drink in hand, looking completely at ease in his dark navy shirt that was unbuttoned just enough to be infuriating. When he saw me, he smiled in a slow, confident, the kind of smile that made women forget what they came for. “Michelle,” he said, rising to his feet. “You actually came.” “Don’t sound so surprised,” I said, walking in, pretending like my heart wasn’t doing somersaults. “You did say you had information.” He grinned, eyes sweeping over me in a way that made my skin feel too tight. “I did. But I also said dinner. You look stunning, by the way.” I looked down at my outfit — a simple white blouse and dark jeans. “This is just something I threw on.” He chuckled, stepping closer. “Then maybe you should throw things on more often.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible.” “Maybe,” he said. “But you like that, don’t you?” “Not even a little,” I said too quickly. His grin widened, and he gestured toward the dining table, which looked like it came out of a five-star restaurant — candles, wine glasses, and perfectly plated dishes. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” I sighed but took a seat. “You really went all out for this, didn’t you?” “Of course,” he said, sitting across from me. “You’re not the kind of woman a man brings to a cheap dinner.” I ignored that and focused on the plate in front of me. “So,” I said, cutting a piece of steak, “you said you had more to tell me about Vivian.” He poured me a glass of wine, smiling like he enjoyed my attempt to stay serious. “Straight to business. You really don’t know how to relax, do you?” “I’ll relax when Eliot is behind bars,” I said flatly. His eyes gleamed with interest. “You really hate him that much?” “I don’t hate him,” I said softly. “I just… want the truth.” “Truth,” he echoed, swirling his drink. “That’s dangerous stuff.” “Not as dangerous as staying married to a murderer.” He chuckled. “Touché.” For a few minutes, we ate in silence — or at least, I tried to. Marcus kept watching me like I was another course on the menu. Finally, I put my fork down. “Marcus,” I said, leaning forward, “if you don’t start talking about Vivian soon, I’m leaving.” He smiled lazily. “You really don’t know how to enjoy a night out, do you?” “This isn’t a night out,” I said sharply. “You promised to tell me what she told you.” “Patience,” he murmured. “Beautiful things take time.” I groaned. “You’re unbelievable.” He leaned back, still smirking. “Alright, alright. Vivian. You really want to know?” “Yes!” He studied me for a long moment, then said softly, “She was scared, Michelle. The last time I saw her, she said Eliot had discovered her mistake — something in the prenup. Something that could ruin him.” My heartbeat quickened. “What mistake?” He tilted his head. “That’s the tricky part. She didn’t tell me the details. She said she was coming to see me the next day to explain everything… but she never showed up.” “She disappeared.” “Exactly.” I exhaled slowly. “Do you think Eliot—” “—had something to do with it?” He shrugged. “That’s what I’ve always wondered. And now that you’re back in the picture, well… maybe it’s time the truth came out.” I frowned. “Then why the games, Marcus? Why all this flirting and nonsense? Just give me what you know.” He smiled faintly, eyes glinting in the candlelight. “Because I like watching you fight me for it.” I blinked. “Excuse me?” He leaned forward, voice dropping low. “You’re fiery, Michelle. Most people get nervous around me — but you? You look me straight in the eye and call me out. I find that intoxicating.” I swallowed hard. “This isn’t about flirting.” “Everything’s about chemistry,” he said softly. “Even this.” I stood abruptly. “I think we’re done here.” “Sit down,” he said gently but firmly. I glared at him, but something about the calm authority in his tone made me pause. “Please,” he added. I hesitated, then sat again, keeping my eyes on him. “You really think charm is going to make me forget why I came here?” He smiled faintly. “No. But maybe it’ll make you stay long enough to hear what I really have to say.” I folded my arms. “Then talk.” He leaned forward slightly, the air between us shifting. “Vivian wasn’t the only one Eliot threatened. There were others — people inside the company. I think he’s been using that prenup to keep them silent. But I need proof before I accuse him.” “And you think I can get it?” I asked. “I think you already have,” he said. “You just don’t realize it yet.” “What are you talking about?”
Michelle Pov He smiled. “You’ve been in his house. You’ve seen his patterns. You’re the closest one to him right now. If anyone can find what Vivian hid, it’s you.” I frowned, uneasy. “That’s not an answer, Marcus. That’s manipulation.” “Maybe,” he said, his tone almost teasing. “But manipulation works best when it’s true.” I shook my head, frustrated. “You really do think you can talk your way through anything, don’t you?” He chuckled softly. “Usually, I can.” I stared at him — that confident grin, the calm arrogance, the slight danger behind his eyes. He was impossible to read, and that made him dangerous. But then he stood, walked around the table, and stopped beside me. My breath caught as I looked up at him. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he murmured. “I’m not,” I said quickly. He smiled faintly. “Then why are you shaking?” I glanced down — damn him, he was right. My hand trembled slightly against the table. He reached out and gently brushed his fingers against mine. “See? You feel it too.” “Marcus—” “I’m not Eliot,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I’m not going to hurt you.” “I know,” I said softly. “But that doesn’t mean I trust you.” “Fair enough,” he said, smiling again. “But trust isn’t necessary for attraction.” He was close now — too close. His cologne filled the space between us, warm and faintly spicy, and my heartbeat was out of control. His gaze flicked to my lips. “Tell me to stop,” he said quietly. I froze. My voice barely worked. “Marcus…” “Tell me,” he murmured, leaning in, his breath ghosting over my skin. For one dizzy second, I didn’t. For one dizzy second, I wanted to know what would happen if I didn’t. Then I came to my senses. “No,” I said sharply, pushing his chest. “Stop.” He blinked, genuinely surprised, before stepping back. I stood quickly, putting distance between us. “This was a mistake.” “Michelle—” “Don’t,” I said firmly. “Don’t try to twist this. You’re helping me because you want something — fine. But whatever this is?” I gestured between us. “It’s not happening.” He stared at me for a long moment, then smiled — slow and amused, but with a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said softly. “Good,” I said, grabbing my bag. “Then maybe you’ll start taking me seriously.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You really have no idea how irresistible you are when you’re angry.” I rolled my eyes. “Goodbye, Marcus.” “Michelle.” I paused at the door, turning back. “Be careful,” he said quietly. “You’re getting closer to something dangerous. Vivian was, too.” I hesitated. “You mean Eliot.” He didn’t answer — just gave a small, knowing smile. “Let’s just say… the man you think you know isn’t the only one playing this game.” A chill went through me. “What does that mean?” He only smirked. “You’ll find out soon enough.” I exhaled shakily and left before he could say another word. By the time I got to my car, my hands were still trembling — partly from anger, partly from something else I didn’t want to name. Marcus Hale was dangerous. Not just because of what he knew… but because of how easily he got under my skin. And for the first time, I wasn’t entirely sure which danger scared me more. I couldn’t stop replaying the evening with Marcus as I drove home. The city lights blurred past the windshield, but my mind was somewhere else entirely — mostly stuck between irritation and confusion. Marcus had almost kissed me. Almost. The memory made me groan out loud. “God, what were you thinking, Michelle?” He had that kind of charm that was dangerous — practiced, slow, and dripping with confidence. The type that could make any woman feel like she was the only one in the room. But I knew better. Or at least, I should’ve known better. I pressed my fingers to my lips, feeling the faint warmth still there. No, I hadn’t let it happen — I stopped him before he could. But still, I shouldn’t have let it get that close. And yet, his words stuck with me. “Vivian hid something. Something your dear husband didn’t want anyone to find.” What the hell did that mean? What could Vivian have hidden that Eliot wanted buried so badly he’d possibly kill for it? I pulled into the driveway, parked, and sighed deeply. The mansion was dark except for the warm glow in the living room. Eliot was still awake. Perfect. I took a deep breath, fixed my hair in the mirror, and reminded myself to act calm. If he suspected I’d been digging again, he’d never let me out of his sight. As soon as I walked in, Eliot was there — lounging on the couch, his laptop open, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked up the second I stepped inside. “You’re home late,” he said, voice low and smooth. Too smooth. “Where the fuck have you been? And… dressed like that.”
Michelle Pov I glanced down at myself, it was a fitted black dress and heels. Okay, fair point. “I had a meeting,” I said quickly, closing the door behind me. “Meeting,” he repeated, setting his glass down and leaning forward. “With who?” I forced a small laugh. “You don’t interrogate me when I meet with clients, do you?” “Clients don’t usually make you smile like that,” he said, his eyes narrowing. I froze for a second. Smile like that? Was it that obvious? “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to smile,” I shot back. “You’re allowed to do a lot of things, Michelle,” he said, standing up. “But lying to me isn’t one of them.” “Wow,” I said, crossing my arms. “That’s rich coming from you.” He tilted his head slightly, a small smirk forming. “Careful.” “I’m serious, Eliot,” I snapped, feeling my pulse spike. “You don’t get to question where I go or who I see anymore. We’re separated.” His expression shifted , the amusement was gone, replaced by something darker. “Separated or not, you’re still my wife,” he said. “And you live under my roof.” “For now,” I said through clenched teeth. “And remember that you’re going to respect me while I’m here.” He stared at me for a moment, then exhaled sharply and turned away, running a hand through his hair. For a second, I thought I saw something flash in his eyes , guilt, maybe? Or anger. I couldn’t tell anymore. Finally, he muttered, “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” That stopped me cold. “What?” “You’ve been digging,” he said, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Asking questions. Sneaking around. You think I don’t notice?” My stomach dropped. “Eliot, what are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb,” he said. “You want something from me. The prenup, right? That’s what this is all about.” I swallowed hard, trying not to show panic. “I want the truth, Eliot.” “The truth?” he repeated, chuckling darkly. “Careful what you wish for, Michelle. You might not like it.” He walked past me and headed upstairs, leaving the faint scent of his cologne in his wake. I stood frozen for a full minute after he left, my heart pounding like a drum. He knew. Maybe not everything, but enough to be dangerous. This made everything harder. If Eliot was onto me, I’d have no chance to sneak into his office again, not with him watching my every move. I sighed and started to head toward my room when a voice stopped me. “Rough night?” I spun around to see Natasha standing in the hallway, her arms crossed, that signature knowing smirk on her face. “What do you want, Natasha?” I asked tiredly. She raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you greet someone who’s about to make your night a lot more interesting?” I frowned. “What are you talking about?” She stepped closer and pulled something out of her purse — a thin brown envelope. “What’s that?” She held it out between two fingers, tauntingly. “Something you’ve been dying to see.” I hesitated before slowly taking it. My breath caught when I saw the label on the corner. Prenuptial Agreement. My hands trembled as I looked up at her. “How did you get this?” She smirked. “I have my ways.” “You stole it?” I whispered. “‘Stole’ is such a strong word,” she said lightly. “Let’s just say I borrowed it from someone who didn’t deserve to have it.” I stared at her, unsure whether to thank her or suspect her of setting me up. “Why are you giving this to me?” Her expression hardened. “Because you promised to leave when you got what you needed. Remember?” I swallowed. “Yeah… I remember.” “Good,” she said sharply. “Then don’t forget it. Eliot doesn’t like women who overstay their usefulness.” I frowned. “You’re acting like you’re doing me a favor.” “I am,” she said simply. “You just don’t realize it yet.” And with that, she turned and walked off, her heels clicking against the marble floor. I stood there staring after her, the envelope clutched tightly in my hands. After a few seconds, I rushed to my room, locked the door, and tore it open. Inside was the original prenup — the one I’d signed months ago, before the marriage turned into this living nightmare. I spread it out on my desk and began scanning through the pages. The first thing I noticed was the company name — E. L. Holdings, written everywhere. But nowhere did it actually say Eliot’s name. That was… odd. I frowned, flipping through the pages again. It didn’t make sense. Why would he use his company name instead of his own? I sat back, running a hand through my hair. “What are you hiding, Eliot?” I muttered under my breath. Was this what Vivian — the missing lawyer — had discovered? Something about this agreement that didn’t line up? The longer I stared at the document, the more uneasy I felt. It wasn’t just business secrecy. It was intentional. Every clause, every signature placement, every word felt like it was designed to obscure the truth. And the more I thought about what Natasha said — you promised to leave when you got what you needed — the more dread twisted in my gut. What if this was all a trap? What if Eliot already knew I’d get this? I looked down at the paper again, tracing the embossed company seal with my fingertips. “E. L. Holdings,” I whispered. Not Eliot Lawrence. Just E.L. What if “E.L.” wasn’t just him? What if it stood for something else — or someone else entirely? A chill ran down my spine. I glanced around the room, suddenly aware of how quiet it was. Too quiet. The shadows seemed to stretch longer than usual, the ticking clock louder, the stillness heavier. I exhaled shakily, pushing the prenup away from me. “Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Just… relax. You’ve got what you needed. Tomorrow, you’ll show it to Hayden. He’ll know what to do.” But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted tonight. Eliot knew. Natasha knew. And now, I knew too much. And somehow, that didn’t feel like a victory, it felt like a warning.
Michelle’s Pov Hayden and I were sitting in the living room. It was afternoon. I had the envelope on the coffee table, and the paper inside was thick. “Look at it again,” I said. Hayden picked up the documents. It was the copy of the prenup I had gotten when I first signed. I had signed it so fast that I did not even really look at the small words. I trusted Eliot and that was a dumb thing to do. Hayden started turning the pages. He was reading very slowly, and I just watched him. I did not move much. I was watching his face to see if he saw the thing I saw. “Okay,” he said. He flipped a page. “Standard stuff, I guess. Money distribution, future earnings. If you divorce him, you get a certain amount of that old land.” “Keep going,” I told him. “Get to the last part.” He nodded and flipped two more pages. He stopped at the very end of the agreement. This was the part where it named the parties and the obligation. He read the page, and his eyes stayed still for a long time. Then they moved, they got wide. His mouth opened just a little bit. “What is it?” I asked him. I knew what it was, but I needed him to say it out loud. He put the paper down on the table very gently. He looked up at me, his face was pale. “Michelle,” he said. “This is bad.” “I know it’s bad,” I said. “What did you see?” “It does not say Eliot,” Hayden said. He tapped the paper with his finger. “Right here. The agreement is with E.L. Holdings.” I nodded. “I know. It says I am legally bound to E.L. Holdings, not to Eliot Larraby as a person.” “That is a huge difference,” Hayden said. He looked at the document again. “Why would he do this? Why would Eliot make the contract with his company?” “I guess because he is Eliot,” I said. “He must always be planning for something terrible.” Hayden picked up his phone right away. He did not even look at the screen, he put it up to his ear. “I need to call Ted,” he said. “Ted is my lawyer friend. He knows about these kinds of agreements.” The phone rang twice. Then Ted answered, Hayden stood up, and walked away from the coffee table. He walked over to the window and looked outside while he talked. I could not hear the lawyer, but I could hear Hayden. “Hey Ted,” Hayden said. “Listen, I have a fast question. It’s about a prenup.” Hayden paused. He waited for Ted to say something. “Yeah, not mine,” Hayden said. “It’s someone else’s, just listen. The prenup states that the person is marrying a man, but the contract is actually signed with the man’s company. A holding company, is that normal?” He waited again. He ran his hand through his hair. “No, I am reading it right now,” Hayden said. “The man’s name is in the text, sure. But the party of the first part is listed as E.L. Holdings.” Another long pause. “The agreement says that if she breaks the contract, or tries to leave, or does anything the company does not like, then she loses everything. Everything,” Hayden repeated. He stopped moving and looked at me across the room. His eyes were focused, but he looked stressed out. “So the personal name is just for show? Just for the wedding? The real contract is with the business?” Hayden took a deep breath. “And what does that mean for the person who signed it? The woman?” He listened again. It was a very long listening time. Ted must have been talking a lot. I just sat there on the couch and waited for Hayden to talk. I felt the paper under my hand, it was just paper, but it was trapping me. “So she is bound to the company’s rules, not the husband’s rules. Is that what you are telling me?” Hayden asked. He sounded like he was trying to understand a math problem. He nodded to himself. “Okay. That makes sense for Eliot, I guess. He makes the company the husband.” I did not like the sound of that at all. The company was the husband. “Is there any way out of a contract like that, Ted?” Hayden asked. He listened again. He turned his back to me and faced the window, I could not see his face. “Okay, A loophole. There is a loophole,” Hayden said. I moved forward on the couch. “What kind of loophole?” Hayden paused. He looked like he was thinking about what Ted had just said. He looked like he was thinking very hard. “Wait, say that again. Say the rule part again. The rule about the company.” He listened for about a minute. I felt impatient, but I did not say anything. Hayden turned around. He still had the phone to his ear, but he was looking right at me. He looked like he had just been punched, but also like he had just won the lottery. It was a strange look. “So, the agreement is with the company,” Hayden said to Ted. “And it states that the contract is dissolved only if the contract terms are met, or if she marries another party within the E.L. Holdings structure.” He looked at me with huge eyes. “No, I understand,” Hayden said into the phone. “So if she marries anyone who is a shareholder, or an executive, or someone with a legal tie to E.L. Holdings, the original prenup is canceled. Because that person’s agreement and contract with the company would override the previous agreement.” Another short pause. “Okay. That is the only way? Marry someone else within the company?” Hayden shook his head a little bit. “This is completely insane, Ted. I appreciate it. Call you later.” He ended the call and put the phone in his pocket. He came back to the coffee table and sat down across from me. “Well?” I asked. My voice was just a whisper.
Hayden’s Pov I leaned forward. “It is true, Michelle. The contract is with E.L. Holdings.” “The company is my husband,” she said. “Exactly. Eliot did not want to bind you to him, he wanted to bind you to his business. That makes the contract almost unbreakable,” I said. “The whole thing is about company loyalty and company assets.” “And the loophole?” She asked me. I breathed out slowly. “Ted said there is a way out. It is the only way out that is written in the small print in the contract. It is a terrible way out, but it is there.” “Tell me,” she demanded. “Hold up, let me guess. Marry someone in the company?” “Right,” I confirmed. I kept my voice flat. “And Ted said it has to be someone with a specific kind of legal standing. An executive or a shareholder with a big contract, not just some secretary in the mailroom. It has to be someone who has enough weight to void the first agreement.” Michelle slowly lifted her eyes from the paper and looked at me. She knew what I was going to say next, it was obvious. It was the only thing that made sense. “I am an executive,” I told her. I said the words very plainly. “I have a Vice President contract. It is a very big contract, which is why Eliot brought me back here from the college and why I am listed in the company records.” She just stared at me. Her expression was not surprise, it was something else. It was like I had just told her that the sky was green. She just stared. I needed to make the suggestion. I had to say the actual words. I leaned forward in the chair. “We have to get married,” I said. It felt weird to say the words to her. “You and me. We need a contract marriage, just for the paperwork, to satisfy the stupid rule in the prenup.” The color left her face very fast. I watched it happen, she went pale. She did not say anything right away. She just stared at me with that same expression. “A contract marriage,” I repeated, trying to sound normal. I cleared my throat. “We sign the papers, go to the judge. Ted handles the filing with the state and the agreement is voided. You are free from Eliot’s company. Then we get a divorce later, it can be fast. Ted said it can be very fast.” Michelle finally blinked. Her lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Then she managed to speak. The sound was very thin. “You,” she whispered. “You and you.” I waited. “I cannot marry you,” she said. Her voice was a little louder now, it had a sudden sharp edge to it. “That is crazy.” “It is the loophole,” I insisted. “It is the only way that Ted said is guaranteed to work. It is in the prenup itself.” She shook her head very slowly. She was still looking at me, but her eyes were seeing something else. She was looking past me, maybe at the idea of it. “You’re my stepson,” she protested. The words came out hard. She said her stepson liked it was the worst word in the world. Like it was a word that made everything dirty and wrong. I sat back hard in the chair. The suddenness of her anger made me stop talking. The protest hit me like a physical thing. “That is what you are, Hayden,” she continued. She was breathing fast. “You are my husband’s son. You are like family. You are in the family.” “We are not family,” I told her. I spoke quickly to stop her from talking more. “Eliot is not your husband anymore. We all know that and he is barely my father. We are not family like that.” She pushed herself up from the couch. She stood up very straight and moved over to the window. She stood where I was standing when I was talking to Ted. She looked outside at the street. “It does not matter what we think,” Michelle said. “It matters what the paper says and what people would think. It is wrong.” “It is paperwork,” I said. I tried to sound patient, and I stood up too. I walked two steps toward her. I stopped when I was halfway across the room. I did not want to get too close. “It is just a legal document. We sign it. We do not have to live together, we don’t even have to do anything like that.” “But it says we are married,” she insisted. She turned around to face me. Her face still looked very pale, but her eyes were very bright now. “It is a lie.” “It is a legal trick,” I corrected her. “It is what Eliot set up. He is the one who made the contract like this, not me.” I wanted to explain why he did it, I knew why he did it. Eliot did not want to protect his marriage. He wanted to protect his company from her if they divorced. He made the prenup a company loyalty agreement. If she ever tried to leave, she was fighting the entire company, not just him. “He wrote that loophole in there on purpose,” I explained. I kept my voice low and steady. “He is that paranoid. He wanted an emergency exit plan if she got too powerful or too close to his business secrets.” Michelle crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would he write that it is canceled if I marry an executive? That makes no sense.” “It makes perfect sense for Eliot,” I said. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice. “The only person who can cancel a binding company agreement is another person with an even stronger binding company agreement. Someone who has a contract that is more important than yours. Ted said it is a way to stop a lawsuit before it starts. He set it up so that only a senior member could dissolve a contract like this. He did not think it would ever happen.” “And you are that senior member,” she stated. “Yes. I am one of them,” I confirmed. “I am the only one you know and the only one who cares what happens to you.”
Hayden’s Pov She did not answer that. She just looked at me, I could see the disgust in her face. It was not anger anymore, it was disgusting. She looked at me and she saw something dirty. She saw something wrong and something maybe even gross. It was just a quick look, but it cut me deeply. It was a very simple feeling, it hurt. It was not what I expected. I expected her to be shocked, maybe angry at the idea of marriage but the disgust was something else. It was bad. “It is just a name on a piece of paper,” I repeated. I felt like my words were failing me. “It is an administrative process. That is all it is.” “It is not just a name,” Michelle insisted. “It is a ceremony. It is a lie to break a different lie. It is marrying my stepson.” “We are not doing this for fun,” I said. My voice got a little louder. I did not mean for it to. “We are doing this because you are legally trapped. You are trapped by his company. You are trapped by Eliot’s paranoia, he set this trap.” I took another step closer. I needed her to see the reality of the problem. “If you do not do this, you cannot leave the house,” I told her. “You cannot divorce him without losing everything you own, everything you ever will own. He will ruin you, he set it all up. This loophole is the only way out, Michelle.” She closed her eyes for a moment. She turned her head away. “I know it is the only way,” she whispered. “But it is you, Hayden. I just…” She trailed off. She did not finish the sentence but I knew what she meant. I tried to keep my face completely blank. I needed to ignore the way her disgust made me feel. I had to focus on the problem, I had to be practical. “Look at the solution,” I said. “Do not look at the person, just look at the solution.” She opened her eyes and looked back at me. Her expression was a little softer now, but still very hesitant. “We need to talk about the details,” I continued. “We need a plan that is so simple and so fast that Eliot cannot find out until it is too late. No one can know about this, not even Ted’s receptionist. This has to be completely silent.” Michelle turned then, finally. She looked me in the eyes. The bright sharpness was gone, replaced by a heavy decision. “If anyone finds out,” she said. “If the media gets this story, even for a second, my life is ruined. Eliot will use it to make me look completely crazy. He will say I married you out of greed or worse.” “He can say whatever he wants,” I pointed out. “But if the prenup is voided, he loses his legal power over you, and his words become just noise. Right now, his words are law because of that paper.” “Okay,” she said, nodding once, very quickly. “The plan. What are the rules for this fake marriage? We have to set them now.” I started walking towards the coffee table again. I needed to sit down and make this feel like a meeting. “We’ll figure that out as time goes on. Now, we need to focus on the important details.” “If we do this,” she started. “If we actually go through with this contract marriage. What happens when Eliot finds out?” “He loses,” I said simply. “That is what happens. He finds out that his own stupid legal trick was used against him. His own safety net just became the thing that let you walk free.” I paused. I was watching her face, she was starting to think it through more logically. She was looking at the escape, not the problem of marrying me. “He will be angry at me,” I continued. “He will be angry that I married you. He will be angry that I did not tell him, and he will be furious that I broke his contract with his company.” “He will be furious at both of us,” Michelle corrected. “Yes,” I agreed. “But by the time he is furious, it will not matter. The original prenup is gone, you are free. His contract is void, he cannot undo a legal marriage, even if it is just on paper.” She went silent again. She took her arms down from her chest and she put one hand on the cool windowpane. “It just feels impossible,” she said. “It is impossible, but we have to do it anyway,” I replied. “This is a situation that only has terrible choices. This is the least terrible choice.” I waited for her to agree. I needed her to agree, I needed her to stop looking at me like I was a mistake. I needed her to see me as the solution, even if I was the stepson. “Okay,” she finally said. The word was very quiet. “If Ted can promise it is only on paper, if he can promise that this is the only way out. Then we do it.” I felt a massive wave of relief. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding. “He promised,” I said. “He is my friend. He would not lie to me about something this important.” I watched her face again. Even with the agreement, the disgust was still there. It was just hidden deeper now. It was not nice to see. I stood there, and I knew that this marriage was going to be complicated, even if it was just on paper. “Let’s call Ted back,” I suggested. “We need to set the date.” I picked up my phone. I felt a weird mix of nerves and purpose. I was about to marry my stepmother to save her from my father. It was the most messed-up and most logical thing I had ever done.
Michelle’s Pov A couple of days later, the phone rang. I was sitting at the kitchen island reading the contract that Ted had sent over for me and Hayden to sign. It was the pre-divorce agreement, and it was very detailed and very depressing. I did not recognize the number on the screen. I answered it anyway. “Hello?” “Michelle. It is Marcus,” the voice said. It was smooth. I frowned. I had not talked to Marcus, one of Eliot’s old business partners, in a long time, not since the party a month ago. “Oh, hello Marcus,” I said. I tried to sound polite and surprised. “How are you?” “I am fine,” he replied. “But I have been thinking about you and about Vivian. I think I have something you need to hear about her.” My hand tightened around the pen I was holding. Vivian was the only thing I cared about finding answers for. “What is it?” I asked. I went quiet. I needed to hear every word. “Not over the phone,” Marcus said. His voice dropped a little. “This is very private. It involves Eliot and some legal stuff, you know how he is. Everything is secret.” I glanced around the empty kitchen. Eliot was away at some conference, Hayden was busy at the company and I was alone. “Can you tell me if it is important?” I pushed. “It is more than important,” he insisted. “It might explain everything that happened to her. It might explain why she was so desperate to leave him.” I knew Marcus knew about the prenup. He was Eliot’s friend and he probably knew more about Eliot’s business than anyone except Hayden. “Where do you want to meet?” I asked him. I was desperate for information, I had to go. “There is a small place near the park,” Marcus said. “Very quiet, it’s called The Oak Tree Bistro. Say, lunch at one o’clock?” “One o’clock is good,” I confirmed. “I will be there.” He said goodbye, and I hung up the phone. I looked back at the divorce contract on the island. I had one week until the fake wedding, and I could not afford to miss any chance for real answers. ******* I got to The Oak Tree Bistro at five minutes to one. Marcus was already there, sitting in a booth in the corner. He stood up when he saw me, which was polite. “Michelle,” he said. He smiled and pulled the table out for me to slide in. “Thank you for meeting me.” “Thank you for calling,” I said, sitting down. “I want to hear whatever you have about Vivian.” A waiter came over and we ordered coffee. As soon as the waiter walked away, Marcus leaned in across the table. “It is about more than Vivian,” he said. His voice was low. “It is about all of you. All the women Eliot marries.” I looked at him, waiting. “Vivian found something,” Marcus continued. “Something in the E.L. Holdings paperwork. Something she should never have seen.” “What was it?” I asked. I felt a chill run down my arms. Marcus paused, looking around the restaurant, even though it was almost empty. He did that like he was checking for spies. “You know how Eliot likes control,” Marcus said. “Total control. He does not just want a wife, he wants a loyal asset.” “I know that,” I said, feeling sick. Marcus reached across the table. He touched my hand, resting his fingers lightly on my wrist. It was a lingering touch, it felt too close. “Do not worry,” he said softly. “I will protect you.” I pulled my hand back and put both of them in my lap. “Just tell me about Vivian and the company papers.” Marcus took his hand back and did not look annoyed. He just smiled, and he leaned in even closer. I could smell his cologne, it was too strong. “The prenup,” Marcus said. “You signed one, Vivian signed one. Every wife signs one.” “Yes,” I confirmed. “It is with E.L. Holdings, not Eliot himself. I know that now.” Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. “You know that? How did you find that out?” “I read the paper recently,” I lied easily. I did not mention Hayden or the loophole. “I realized the party of the first part was the company.” “Well, you are smarter than Vivian was, then,” Marcus said. “She only found out when she was trying to get a loan for her charity. She had to show the bank her assets, and the bank lawyers flagged it. They told her she was legally bound to the corporation.” “So it is a company contract,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “It is worse than that,” Marcus replied, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. “Vivian discovered the clause, the clause that says if a woman ever divorces Eliot or breaks the contract, E.L. Holdings has the right to completely bankrupt them. They do not just take the money she would have gotten. They pursue her for damages, and they can wipe out her private savings. They can sue for loss of business revenue.” My breath hitched in my throat. This was so much worse than I thought. I had been worried about losing the house and Eliot’s money, not losing my life savings. “It is a legal trap,” I stated. “A completely unbreakable legal trap,” Marcus agreed. He reached for my hand again, and this time he was more aggressive. He took my hand and held it, his fingers were large and dry. “You see, Michelle,” he said, holding my hand too tightly. “Eliot does not marry women for love. He marries them to keep them quiet, to control the media around E.L. Holdings and if they ever try to talk, he holds this legal sword over their heads. Vivian figured out that she could never leave, not without losing everything she ever worked for, even before she met Eliot.” I tugged my hand away again. “Marcus, please. The touching is too much, just talk.” He let go instantly, lifting both hands in surrender. “I am sorry, Michelle. I just worry about you, you look stressed and you are too beautiful to be stressed.”
Michelle’s Pov I ignored the compliment and focused on the terrible information. “Vivian knew she was trapped. That is why she was so desperate.” “Yes,” Marcus confirmed. “She was trying to find a way to quietly transfer her private assets out of the country before she filed for divorce. She did not want to be a public figure. She just wanted to disappear.” “And Eliot found out,” I finished. “Eliot always finds out,” Marcus said. He leaned in again, he was making me very uncomfortable. “You are going to be next, Michelle,” he said. “He is starting to suspect you are not happy. He is going to turn E.L. Holdings on you, you need protection.” “I can protect myself,” I told him. Marcus shook his head. “No one can protect themselves from Eliot and his legal team. Only someone powerful can protect you, someone on the inside.” He let the implication hang in the air. He was talking about himself, he was the powerful someone on the inside. He wanted me to need him. “You are the one who has all the information,” I pointed out. “Why are you telling me this? Why do you care about Eliot’s ex-wife?” Marcus smiled that too smooth smile again. “I care about the people Eliot hurts and I care about you. You and I, are similar. We understand how the game is played.” “What game?” I asked. “The game of control,” he said. He watched me with sharp eyes. “I know how the company works. I know how Eliot thinks. You need a powerful partner, Michelle. Someone who is on your side, and who is strong enough to stand up to E.L. Holdings.” He was making his move. He was offering to be my new husband, my new protector. The new man with the legal contract. “Thank you for the information, Marcus,” I said. I stood up, I could not sit there any longer. “It is very helpful. I need to go now, I have a lot to think about.” Marcus stood up too, very slowly. He looked disappointed, but he did not try to touch me again. “You call me, Michelle,” he ordered. “You call me when you decide to fight back. I will be waiting.” I nodded quickly and turned away, walking fast out of the bistro. I needed to get away from Marcus and his too-close presence. ******** My phone rang immediately as I walked out. It was Hayden, my chest felt tight. I answered on the second ring. “Hayden,” I said, keeping my voice very level and calm. “Michelle,” he replied. His voice was not loud like before, but it was low and tight. It was worse than yelling, it was the sound of barely contained rage. “Enjoying your date?” he asked. The words were delivered with a cold, cutting sarcasm that hit me harder than his previous yelling. “It was not a date,” I fired back, my own control slipping. “Stop saying that. I told you why I was there, I went to gather information about Vivian and the legal trap and I was right to go. Marcus confirmed that Eliot is planning to financially destroy me completely. He wants to take everything I own, Hayden. That is what Vivian discovered.” “And you think Marcus told you that out of the goodness of his heart?” Hayden demanded. “He told you that because he wants you to panic and run straight to him! He wants to be your rescuer. He wants to be the executive who voids the contract so he can have something to use against my father later. You should have ignored his call!” “He is a rival of your father,” I argued. “He gave me a key piece of information that makes our fake wedding tomorrow even more urgent. I am gathering information, Hayden. I am not a quiet little wife sitting at home waiting for the men to solve the problem.” “But you are acting like a chess piece!” he yelled, and this time the noise broke through the tight control in his voice. “You are moving around in plain sight. Do you think Eliot did not have Marcus watch? That whole lunch was probably filmed. And now you are holding private meetings with the one man who hates Eliot enough to challenge him, but who would only do it to use you!” “And what are you doing?” I shot back. “You are marrying me for the same reason Marcus wants to! You want to beat your father. You want to see the contract voided just as much as I do. You are not protecting me out of love, Hayden. You are doing it out of pure, competitive hatred for Eliot.” There was a sudden, sharp, loud noise that came through the phone. It was a terrible, dull thud. “What was that?” I asked, startled. Hayden did not answer right away. He was breathing heavily into the phone. The air was rough and fast. “Hayden? Did you just drop something? What was that noise?” “Nothing,” he finally ground out. His voice was raw. “Just concentrating.” “Did you hit something?” I pressed. I was pretty sure he had punched something solid. A desk, maybe a wall. “I said nothing,” he repeated, the sound of his breath ragged. “I am just saying, you need to understand that this is dangerous. This is not some silly game, Michelle. You cannot be seen with Marcus again. I do not care how much information he has. You are taking a massive risk.” “I am aware of the risk,” I said, trying to push past the shock of the noise. “But I needed to know the full extent of the danger. Eliot is a monster and tomorrow, we stop him.” I waited for him to agree, for him to take a deep breath and go back to being the cold, logical executive but he stayed silent. He just kept breathing hard. “Hayden, we are two days away from freedom,” I said, my voice softer now. “Please. Focus on the plan, we need to be partners on this not enemies.” He paused for a long second, and then he just hung up. There was no goodbye just the click of the line going dead. I slowly lowered the phone and looked out the window. The fight was over, but the anger in his voice, and that loud, terrible sound I heard, stayed with me.
Michelle’s Pov I had just gotten back to the house. It was the afternoon before the fake wedding. I was still tense from the fight with Hayden and the disturbing realization that his anger was about more than just legal strategy, I walked into the living room and saw Alice. She was sitting on the edge of the sofa, clutching a large mug with both hands. She was usually bouncy and cheerful, but now she looked small and very nervous. “Alice,” I said. “What is wrong? Is everything okay?” She stood up instantly when she saw me. Her eyes were wide, and she chewed on her bottom lip. “Michelle, I need to talk to you,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I have been waiting for you, I was worried you would not come back before tonight.” I walked over and sat on the armchair across from the sofa. “I am not going anywhere. Eliot is gone, and I am busy planning some things. What is it? You look sick.” Alice put the mug down very carefully on the coffee table. She sat down again, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “It is about Hayden,” she confessed. She spoke the name in a rush. My stomach dropped a little. Hayden was all I could think about, but I did not want to talk about him right now, especially not with Alice. I needed to deny everything about the wedding that was happening the next day. “What about Hayden?” I asked, trying to sound bored. Alice looked at the floor, then quickly up at me. “I have feelings for him,” she admitted. The words came out quickly and sounded as if they had been stored up for a long time. “Real, strong feelings, I have had for a while. Ever since he came back from college.” I just stared at her. I felt a very strange, sharp feeling in my chest. It was like a quick little stab of cold, it was jealousy. The feeling was illogical, considering I was marrying him tomorrow just to divorce him later but it was there. I pushed it down instantly. “Okay,” I said. I kept my voice neutral. “Hayden is a nice guy, he is very kind to people. I am not surprised.” Alice looked desperate. “But… but you are here,” she said. She glanced around the living room, like the furniture was judging her. “You are still here, and Eliot is gone, and you and Hayden are always talking and whispering. Everyone sees it.” I knew I was about to lie to the only person who had been genuinely nice to me in this awful house, but I had to protect the secret of the contract marriage. I had to give her a straight, convincing denial. “I have no claim on Hayden,” I insisted. “We are friendly, but that is it. He is a very intense person, and he is just trying to fix some of Eliot’s financial messes. His anger is always about business, Alice. Do not read into it.” “So you do not have feelings for him?” she asked. She was searching my eyes, trying to find the lie. “No,” I lied smoothly. I made sure my expression was empty. “I do not have feelings for Hayden. I am trying to figure out how to get away from Eliot. I am not looking for a new relationship with his son. That would be completely crazy, Alice. I am not crazy.” Alice finally let out a long, slow breath. It was a huge, visible sigh of relief. The tension seemed to drain out of her shoulders. “Oh, thank goodness,” she whispered. “I was so worried. I really was, I could not stand the thought of interfering with you.” “You are not interfering with anything,” I assured her. I felt a little pang of guilt for the lie. “He is free. We are friendly, but he is completely free.” Alice then looked excited. The nervousness was replaced by a bright, hopeful look. “Okay. Then I can ask you,” she said. She leaned in conspiratorially. “You know him better than I do. What should I do? How do I approach him?” “Approach him?” I repeated. “Yes,” Alice said. “He is so serious all the time. He is always working, always on the phone. How do I get him to notice that I am interested in him? Should I ask him for a drink? Should I mention something about the company?” I sat back, trying to think. It was a bizarre situation, I was about to marry the man she liked, and I was giving her advice on how to get him to date her. “Do not talk about the company,” I advised her immediately. “He hates all that stuff. He hates Eliot’s business, he just does it because it is his inheritance. Talk about something real.” “Like what?” she asked eagerly. “Like his old life,” I suggested. “He went to college in another city. Ask him what he misses about being away from here. Ask him about books he reads that are not about business. He likes things that are quiet and simple, Alice. He is not like Eliot.” Alice was nodding very fast, looking relieved and happy. She pulled her knees up onto the sofa. “He is so different from Eliot,” she agreed. “He is honest, and he is kind and he is so smart. He just seems like he sees the world very clearly.” “He does,” I agreed. “He is very clear-headed. He is the one person in this house who sees things for what they really are.” Alice smiled, a real, wide smile. “Okay. I am going to try it. I am going to ask him about his college life. I am going to ask him what he does for fun when he is not at the office.” She stood up, looking energized. “Thank you, Michelle. I needed to know the truth. I needed to know that I was not stepping on your toes.” I walked over to the window and looked out. I had just lied to Alice, telling her I had no feelings for Hayden, even though I had felt a sting of jealousy, and tomorrow, I was going to marry him. I just hoped Alice did not run into him before the fake ceremony. I needed that marriage to happen without any more complications.
Hayden’s Pov I was in my office the day before the wedding. I had spent the last two hours on the phone with Ted, confirming the final papers for the judge and arranging the driver who would pick us up at 8 am. The rage from the fight with Michelle had simmered down to a low, cold burn, but the sight of those pictures of her and Marcus was still stuck in my head. The door to my office opened without a knock. I looked up, ready to chew out my assistant, but it was Alice. She was not wearing her usual staff uniform. She was wearing a short, tight dress that was definitely not appropriate for a professional setting. She had makeup on and her hair was done nicely. She looked completely out of place in my dark, serious office. “Alice,” I said, putting my pen down. I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice. “What is going on? Is everything okay at the house?” She walked further into the room and closed the door behind her. She did not sit down, she just stood near my desk, smiling. “Everything is fine,” she said. Her voice was bright, maybe a little too bright. “I was just thinking about something Michelle said. She gave me some advice, actually.” “Michelle?” I asked, frowning. I did not want to talk about Michelle right now. I wanted to forget about her until tomorrow morning when the contract was signed. “Yes,” Alice replied. She leaned forward a little, resting her hands on the edge of my desk. “She told me you were busy, but I need your help with some research. It is very important.” I was completely confused. “Research? Alice, I do not do personal research. I am a Vice President for a major company. What kind of research are you talking about?” She giggled. It was a nervous, breathy sound. “It is for a new project I am thinking about. Something outside of working for Eliot, you know. Something more creative.” She reached out and put her hand on my forearm. Her fingers were very warm through the fabric of my suit jacket. It was a very deliberate, soft touch. I stiffened immediately, and I pulled my arm back gently. “Alice, I am happy to look over any business plan you have later, maybe send you some links, but I am extremely busy right now,” I said firmly. “I have a lot of important contracts to finalize before tomorrow.” She ignored me. She just laughed again. “Oh, you are always so serious, Hayden,” she said. She lowered her voice slightly. “Michelle said you needed to loosen up, she said you should talk about your college life. She said you like simple, real things. I want to know what you miss about the city you lived in before you came back here.” My jaw tightened so hard I felt a sudden pain in my teeth. Michelle had told her this. “Michelle and I talk about professional things,” I said, trying to push her back toward the truth. “She is still my father’s wife. We do not talk about my personal life.” Alice just smiled a secretive, knowing smile. She leaned closer. “She said she did not care if we got close,” Alice whispered. She tilted her head. “She said she has no claim on you at all, Hayden. She said she is focused on getting away from Eliot, and she told me to go for it. She was very encouraging.” I felt my blood boil again, hotter and faster than when I saw the pictures of Marcus. The photos with Marcus were a risk to the plan. This was a direct, personal betrayal. She was about to marry me in less than twenty-four hours to save herself from ruin, and she had spent the previous afternoon giving dating advice to Alice, telling her I was available. She was pushing another woman at me right before we signed the fake contract. She was trying to make it clear how meaningless the wedding was to her. It was a power play. She was denying my feelings for her that she probably sensed, and she was trying to prove that she could not be owned, not even by the terms of our secret agreement. “You look very upset,” Alice observed, her smile faltering a little. “Did I say something wrong?” I pushed my chair back abruptly. It scraped on the floor. I stood up, towering over her. I had to get her out of my office right now, I needed air. “No, Alice,” I said, keeping my face completely blank. I forced the words to sound calm and professional, the mask I always wore for Eliot’s company. “You did not say anything wrong, Michelle is correct. She is still married to my father, and she is right. She has no claim on me, we are not involved. I am completely free.” I paused and looked Alice right in the eyes. If Michelle wanted to play this game, she was going to lose. “But I cannot talk about personal things right now,” I continued. “I have to finish these contracts for E L. Holdings. This is a very critical time for the company. Maybe you can come back next week, after all of this chaos is settled down.” Alice looked disappointed. “Oh. Next week.” “Yes,” I said. “Next week. Maybe we can talk about your research then. You should try to find some pictures of my college city. I would like to see them.” I was playing along now. I agreed to a date with Alice for next week, even though I was going to be married to Michelle then. I was proving that I was just as detached and free as Michelle claimed I was. “That sounds great, Hayden,” Alice said, her smile returning. “I will call you on Monday.” “Perfect,” I said. I walked around the desk and opened the door for her. “I will see you then.” She walked out, happy and oblivious. I closed the door immediately. I did not go back to my desk. I walked over to the wall and I punched it hard. The drywall cracked slightly, but the pain was satisfying. It was a release of the sudden, white-hot fury. She was marrying me, and she was pushing me into the arms of another woman at the same time. She was treating our legal salvation like a complete joke. Two can play this game.
Michelle’s Pov It was Monday morning, three days after the fake wedding ceremony. I was technically Mrs Hayden Larraby now, but it felt the same as being Mrs Eliot Larraby. Trapped, but with a temporary escape clause. I was in the kitchen, trying to find a box of tea I liked, when Natasha walked in. Natasha was the assistant housekeeper. She was a gossip, but she was fast and knew everything that happened in the company buildings downtown. “Good morning, Michelle,” she said, sounding chirpy. “Morning, Natasha,” I replied. “Do you know where the green tea is? I cannot seem to find it.” “It is in the top pantry, ma’am,” she said. She walked over and immediately started rearranging a vase of flowers on the counter. “You know, the office is buzzing today, really buzzing.” “Oh?” I asked, trying to sound bored as I opened the pantry door. I did not want to hear about Eliot. “Yes, it’s about Mr. Hayden,” Natasha whispered, leaning in a little. “He took Alice out this morning for coffee. They were at the little café near the building.” I stopped reaching for the tea box. My hand froze in the air. “Hayden and Alice?” I asked. I pulled my hand back and turned to look at her. Natasha nodded excitedly. “Yes. She was wearing that short pink dress from Saturday. The one she should not wear to work and he was laughing. I have never seen him do that before.” My chest felt very tight, very fast. It was an instant, unexpected fury. Not the rational, cold fury I felt for Eliot, but a hot, sudden spike of personal anger. He had done it already, he had gone and taken Alice out. “They were probably discussing her new research project,” I said, trying to dismiss it. I needed to sound calm, I was the one who told her to ask him out. I was the one who told him I was free. Natasha shook her head. “No, ma’am. It was not research, it was a proper coffee date. She was showing him pictures on her phone, and they were leaning close together. Everyone saw it. It is what everyone is talking about, he is never nice like that to anyone.” I felt the blood rush to my face. I stood up straight. “Well, I told Alice that Hayden was free,” I said, my voice sharp. I tried to make it sound like I was in control of the situation. “I do not care who he goes out with. It is good that he is getting out.” “Of course, ma’am,” Natasha said, looking slightly confused by my harsh tone. She went back to the flowers. I turned around and walked out of the kitchen quickly. I needed to get away from her and the information, I had to tell myself that I did not care. I absolutely did not care, he was my paper husband and I was his stepmother. He could date the entire city. But the anger was a bitter taste in my mouth. He was acting so fast, he had taken her out barely seventy-two hours after we stood in front of that judge and signed our names. It was a direct consequence of our fight, a deliberate move to show me he was as detached as I claimed to be. I grabbed my car keys from the foyer table. I did not know where I was going, but I had to get out of the house. I had to go somewhere private where I could breathe. I drove aimlessly for about fifteen minutes. Then, I found myself near the E.L. Holdings building. I did not mean to go there, my hands just turned the wheel. I pulled into a small parking spot across the street from a cafe I recognized. It was the place where Eliot sometimes had meetings, i looked at the cafe… And I saw them. They were sitting in a booth right by the large window. The sunlight was pouring in. Hayden was leaning his elbow on the table, and Alice was sitting across from him. She was talking, smiling widely and Hayden was looking at her. He was not looking at her with the tight, stressed expression he always wore around me. He was looking at her with a gentle, relaxed expression. He had a slight smile on his face. He was not laughing hard, but he was listening. He was engaged. Then, Alice did something that made the fury inside me snap. She reached out and touched his hand, resting on the table. It was a quick touch, not an aggressive one like Marcus’s, but a soft, sweet, intimate touch. And Hayden did not pull his hand away. He let it rest there for a moment. I watched him. I watched the man who had yelled at me, who had told me I was reckless for sitting across from Marcus, now sitting here with Alice, letting her touch him. The man who had punched a wall in a blind rage over a picture of me smiling at a rival. Something inside me broke. It was not just jealousy, it was a sudden, violent realization that he had played me. He had gotten the contract marriage he needed to beat his father, and now he was immediately moving on, proving that I truly meant nothing to him beyond the legal loophole. It was the ultimate, cold denial. I did not stop to think. I threw the car into reverse and pulled out fast, tires squealing a little on the pavement. I did not look back, I drove away from the building, away from the sight of Hayden and Alice. “I do not care,” I said out loud. My voice was shaky. “I do not care, it is a paper marriage, it is a paper marriage.” But the repeated words did not help. My hands were shaking so hard on the steering wheel that I had to pull over to the side of the street, in a quiet residential area. I put the car in park and leaned my head back against the headrest. I closed my eyes tightly. It was not supposed to hurt. I was supposed to be happy for him. I was the one who told Alice to go after him. I was the one who promised him his freedom.
Eliot’s Pov I sat in my office at E.L. Holdings, reviewing the latest quarterly reports. I did not like the numbers, but I liked control. I always liked control. My wife, Michelle, had been acting strange lately, very strange. She was jumpy, quick to leave the room when I entered, and she had a constant, underlying tension. It was not the usual nervousness a wife has when her marriage is failing. This was different, this was anger mixed with distraction. I could tell she was thinking about something, or maybe someone. Her eyes had a hard, distant quality when she thought she was alone. I was not worried about her leaving me yet. Her prenup was a masterpiece. It tied her to the corporation, not just to me, breaking it would mean legal ruin. She was not stupid enough to risk that, she was just angry. But then, the anonymous email came in a few days ago. The one with the pictures of Michelle and Marcus. Marcus is a greedy fool, but he is a major shareholder. The fact that he was flirting with my wife, and she was letting him touch her hand, was an interesting development. It meant she was desperate for answers, or maybe desperate for a new legal path out. I had my assistant look into Michelle’s activity over the last week. She had been staying at the house, mostly but she had taken the car out late last night. She was gone for almost two hours. That was unusual for her. I decided to follow her myself tonight. It was an easy thing to do, I had a driver waiting to take me anywhere I wanted to go. I just told him to stay a block behind her car when she drove out. It was about nine o’clock. She drove away from the house and headed toward the downtown area. She was not driving fast, she was cruising slowly. “Stay back, just keep her in sight,” I told the driver. She eventually pulled her car over to the side of a busy street. It was near a coffee shop that had a nice outdoor area, even though it was closed now. She parked about twenty yards away from the entrance. She did not get out of the car. She just sat there. “Pull up slowly,” I instructed. “But stop behind that big delivery truck.” We stopped the car. I lowered my window only a crack. I pulled out my small binoculars. I looked through the glass. Michelle was sitting stiffly in the driver’s seat. Her face was tense. She was staring at a restaurant across the street. I followed her line of sight. It took me a moment to figure out why. On the other side of the street, there was a small, brightly lit pizza place that had open windows, and sitting at one of the tables outside were two people. I adjusted the binoculars. I recognized them instantly. It was my son, Hayden, and the silly girl from the house staff, Alice. Hayden had his back mostly to me, but I could see Alice’s face clearly. She was laughing, leaning far across the table. She was not wearing a uniform. She was dressed like she was on a date. “Well, well,” I muttered to myself. This was getting interesting. I watched Hayden. He reached out and handed Alice something small, maybe a napkin. She took it and laughed even harder. He was smiling, not the fake, tight smile he uses at board meetings. It was a real, relaxed, almost boyish smile. I had not seen him smile like that since he was about ten years old. He never smiled like that when he was around me. I looked back at Michelle. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. Her shoulders were hunched. Her head was tilted forward. She was staring at the scene with a cold, desperate intensity. She was not just curious, she was seething. She was vibrating with anger and some other powerful emotion. She watched Alice reach up and touch Hayden’s shoulder. Hayden did not pull away, he just kept talking, looking at Alice. Michelle watched this for almost five minutes. I watched her, her jaw was clenched. Her whole body was rigid. Suddenly, she moved… She did not start the car. She threw her hands down on the steering wheel with a quiet thud. It was a gesture of complete frustration and defeat. Then, she started the car and drove off, very fast. She sped down the street without looking in the rearview mirror. I sat back in my seat. I did not tell the driver to follow her. I did not need to, I had seen everything I needed to see. I looked through the binoculars one last time at Hayden and Alice. They were still talking and laughing, completely unaware that they had been observed. A slow, delighted smile spread across my face. It was not a happy smile. It was the smile of a man who has just found the weak spot in his enemy’s armor. “So,” I whispered to the empty seat beside me. “My wife has feelings for my son. How deliciously messy.” This was much better than Marcus. Marcus was greedy. This was something real, this was emotional chaos. Michelle had been furious when I left her, angry that I made her sign the contract but now she was angry for a completely different reason. She was angry because the man she wanted was paying attention to another woman. Her tension was not about money or legal clauses. It was about jealousy. I leaned forward. I picked up the private phone I use only for my head of security. “We need to know everything about Alice,” I instructed the security head. “Her background, her family, her financial situation and I want to know every single meeting she has had with Hayden Larraby over the last three days. Every coffee, every conversation, I want it all recorded and documented. Now.” I hung up the phone. I tapped my fingers lightly on the door of the car. Michelle thought she was trapped by a piece of paper. Hayden thought he was free to date the staff. They were both wrong and they were both still very much under my control.
Michelle’s Pov It was late afternoon, and the rain was hitting the windshield of my car so hard I could barely see. I had been sitting across the street from Hayden’s apartment building for twenty minutes, gathering my courage. I had to talk to him. I could not go on knowing he was playing a game with Alice, making a mockery of our emergency marriage. I got out of the car. The rain instantly soaked through my coat. It was cold and heavy, I walked across the street and went straight into the entryway of his building. I did not ring the bell. I just stood under the awning, waiting. I did not have to wait long. About five minutes later, I saw the main elevator lights flash. The doors slid open and Hayden stepped out. He was holding his briefcase and talking quietly into his phone. He was focused on business, as always. He looked up and saw me. He stopped dead. His expression went from professional calm to stunned shock in less than a second. He was completely surprised. “Michelle? What are you doing here?” he asked, taking the phone away from his ear. I walked toward him. The anger that had been simmering since I saw him with Alice finally boiled over. I did not care that we were standing in a lobby or that the rain was beating down outside. “What are you doing with Alice?” I demanded. My voice was tight and low. I did not yell, I did not need to. The question itself was enough. He recovered quickly. He put the phone into his coat pocket. He looked at me, his eyes hard and cold. “I am doing what any free man does,” he said. His voice was challenging. “I am having coffee with a colleague. We talked about her interests. I am helping her with a project.” “A project?” I scoffed. “She was touching your hand, Hayden, and you did not pull away. Everyone at E.L. Holdings is talking about your little coffee date. You have been married to me for three days, and you are already parading another woman around in front of everyone.” “Parading?” he shot back. He took a step toward me. He was wearing that controlled, dangerous expression he had when we fought before. “You told her you had no claim on me, Michelle. You encouraged her to come to my office, you told her I was available.” “I told her that to protect the secret of the marriage,” I explained, trying to keep the focus on the plan. “I had to convince her we were not a threat to her feelings. The marriage is a contract, Hayden. It is a lie to save my life. It is not a license for you to rub your new freedom in my face.” He took another step closer. He was close enough now that I could feel the tension radiating off him. We were almost touching. “You are worried about me rubbing my freedom in your face?” he growled. “You want to talk about rubbing things in faces? I got an anonymous package with pictures of my wife sitting across from the man who wants to destroy my father’s career, and you were letting him touch your hand! What are you doing with Marcus?” “I was getting information!” I yelled. I stepped forward too, closing the last few inches between us. Our faces were almost touching. “I needed to know the full extent of the legal trap he set for me! You know that! It was necessary!” “And you think taking Alice out for coffee is not necessary?” he demanded. His eyes flashed. “You made it clear that I am just a legal loophole to you. I am just a piece of paper, you made it clear that you want me to be detached, so I am being detached. I am moving on.” “You don’t get to be jealous,” I said, my voice shaking with absolute fury. I was so close to him that I could see the tiny water droplets clinging to his eyelashes from the rain he had just walked through. “You don’t get to be angry about Marcus when you are with Alice. This marriage is temporary and it is a lie. You cannot treat me like a jealous wife when you are just my stepson.” He lowered his head slightly, his gaze intense and burning. I could feel his breath on my face. “Neither do you,” he growled back, his voice low and guttural. “You do not get to come here and interrogate me about Alice when you are the one who told me you had no feelings and no claim. You are the one who told her to go for it. Why are you here, Michelle? Is it the plan you care about, or is it the fact that I am not sitting at home waiting for you?” He reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip was firm, not violent, but commanding. He pulled me slightly toward the door. “You are soaked,” he stated. “We cannot talk here, come inside.” “No,” I insisted, pulling my arm back. “I just wanted to know if this is going to compromise the plan. Is this Alice thing going to look like another complication for the divorce? Is Eliot going to use this?” He looked at me, and his expression was complex. The anger was still there, but there was something else now. Something like pain, or maybe confusion. “If you are going to use Marcus against me, I will use Alice against you,” he said. He was not threatening me, he was just stating a fact of the game we were playing. “It is a two-way street, Michelle. We are in this together, and we are both free until the divorce.” He paused and then, with a controlled movement, he stepped back, putting a little distance between us. The tension did not lessen, though. “Go home, Michelle,” he said, his voice flat and final. “You are dripping wet. I am going to call Ted and confirm the documents are safe. Do not contact me again until tomorrow morning. I need to focus on beating my father, not playing games you started.” I stood there, breathing heavily, watching him. “Fine,” I said. “I will go home.” I turned and walked back into the rain. I did not look back.
Hayden’s Pov I watched Michelle turn her back on me and walk out into the pouring rain, i felt the anger suddenly change. It went from the cold fury I felt about Alice to a sharp panic about her getting sick. She was going to get very sick from standing in this cold rain. I moved fast. I stepped out into the lobby and grabbed her arm right away. “Stop,” I ordered. My voice was loud. “You are not leaving like this. You are soaked through, come inside my apartment now.” She twisted her arm in my grip. “Let go of me, Hayden. I am leaving. I just needed to say what I needed to say, I am done.” “No, you are not done,” I insisted. I pulled her back hard. She stumbled a little, and I kept my hand locked on her arm. “You are not going to ruin the plan because you caught a cold. We are talking inside, we are not doing this in a public lobby.” I pulled her toward the inner door of the lobby. I had to use a bit of strength to make her move, she finally gave up fighting. We went through the door and into the hallway. Then I unlocked the door to my apartment. I pushed it open and pulled her inside. The heat in the apartment felt too high after the cold rain. We stood there in my entryway. The water was dripping off her coat and hair and making puddles on my wooden floor. She was breathing hard from the anger and the cold. I was breathing hard from the anger and the speed. The air between us felt thick and heavy. It was suffocating. “Take your coat off,” I ordered. I dropped my briefcase on the floor. She did not move. She just stared at me, her eyes dark. “I am leaving,” she said, her voice low. “I am going home. I just needed to know why you did it. Why are you making a joke of the wedding?” I took a deep breath. I knew why I did it, I did it because she pushed me. I did it because she told Alice I was free. I did it because I saw her smiling at Marcus and it made me feel like I was disposable. But I was not going to tell her all of that. I needed to say something simple and true. “I am not making a joke of the wedding,” I said quietly. I kept my voice calm now. “The wedding is the only thing that matters. The divorce contract is what matters, nothing else.” “Then why Alice?” she whispered. “Why are you with her?” I looked at her. Her hair was completely plastered to her head. Water was dripping from her nose. She looked miserable and angry. She was standing there in my apartment, mad at me for going out for coffee with another person. “I am not interested in Alice,” I admitted quietly. It was the truth. Alice was nice, but she was just a distraction. “She came to my office because you told her I was available. I accepted the coffee date because I was angry that you were so quick to get rid of me. I wanted to show you I was just as detached as you are.” She flinched slightly when I said I was detached. “You were angry I was detached,” I pointed out. “You came here because you were angry that I moved on so fast.” She looked away from me, toward the closed door. “I was worried about Eliot,” she insisted, but the denial sounded weak. “I was worried about the photos. I was worried you were going to ruin the divorce.” “It does not matter,” I said. “Alice is nothing. She is just a game I played to prove a point, a stupid game.” She looked back at me. Her expression softened just a tiny bit. The hard anger in her eyes became just a desperate need for confirmation. “And Marcus?” she whispered. She spoke the name like it was painful. “You think he is nothing too?” I walked slowly toward her. I knew the distance I was covering, and I knew I was moving into her space. She did not back up. “Marcus is just Marcus,” I said. I was close now. I could hear her quick, shallow breathing. “He is trying to be a rescuer. He is trying to get an advantage over my father. He is trying to get you to marry him instead of me.” “He is just trying to find a way to trap me again,” she corrected. “He is just…” “He is just flirting with my wife,” I cut her off. I let the word wife hang in the air between us. It was heavy and real and completely wrong for the moment but I liked how it sounded. It was my word now. Mine, not my father’s. She looked up at me. Her eyes were wide. The word hung there. I reached out and gently pushed the wet hair away from her face. It was cold and damp against my fingers. I did not care that she was soaked, I just cared that she was standing here in my apartment, arguing about me and Marcus, and Alice. “You are my wife,” I said quietly. It was a fact, legally. It was also the reason why I was so furious about Alice and Marcus. I leaned in. I did not move fast. I moved slowly, giving her all the time in the world to pull back. She was so close, I could feel the cold of her wet skin, and the warmth of her lips. I was going to kiss her. I leaned in. My head tilted, my lips were a breath apart from hers. I could feel her breath mixing with mine. She did not pull away, she was not running. She was not disgusted now. The moment stretched out. I closed my eyes, ready to stop thinking about the contract and the divorce and the company. I was just going to kiss her. Then, a sudden, loud, demanding sound ripped through the quiet air. It was the specific ringtone I had set only for my lawyer, Ted. I froze. Michelle froze, our lips were still not touching. The sound was a harsh reminder of everything we were trying to escape.
Michelle’s Pov Hayden had turned his back to me to answer the phone. He was speaking quietly, his voice low and serious. I could only hear his side of the conversation. “Yes, I see. When did you get this?” he was saying. “No, do not worry about the weather. I am listening. Go on.” He listened for a long time, only making small, focused sounds of acknowledgment. I stood there, trying to regain my composure. My heart was still hammering against my ribs from the moment our lips were a breath apart. I tried not to think about what would have happened if the phone had not rung. Then, Hayden’s tone changed completely. He sounded sharp, like a sword suddenly pulled from its sheath. “You have a lead?” he asked. His voice was intense. “A storage unit? I do not care about the paperwork, Ted. I care about her Is she confirmed alive?” He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked at me. His eyes were wide and focused, the anger and the lust were gone. Now there was only urgency. “Ted found something,” he whispered to me. He went back to the phone. “Understood. The divorce papers were a distraction. She did not disappear, she just went into hiding. Do not call anyone else, send me the address right now, we are going. Yes, now. We will call you when we get there.” He hung up the phone and jammed it into his pocket. He was already moving toward his own coat rack. “Michelle, we have to go,” he said. He did not wait for me to agree. “Ted found a storage unit that Vivian left behind. It is near the airport, he thinks it has documents related to the prenup, but more importantly, he thinks he has confirmed she is alive.” I felt a sudden, massive rush of adrenaline that washed away the jealousy and the near-kiss moment entirely. The woman who started all of this, was not dead. She was just hiding. “Alive?” I whispered. “Where is she? Can we talk to her?” “Ted does not know where she is hiding, but he is sure she is alive,” Hayden said, pulling on a dry, dark jacket. “He said she paid the storage fees far in advance, and the bank account used was recently accessed, though the location was masked. She left a trail.” “A trail she wanted us to find,” I realized. “She knew someone would look here eventually.” “Exactly,” Hayden agreed. He grabbed his car keys. “This is why she went to Marcus first, maybe. She was trying to plant information, we have to see what is in that unit.” “I am coming with you,” I said immediately. I did not even think about my soaking wet clothes. “Good,” he said simply. “Let’s go.” We rushed out of his apartment. We took the elevator down to the parking garage in silence. The tension was still there, but it was a shared, dangerous energy, not a jealous one. ******** The drive to the storage facility was fast and silent. Hayden drove aggressively through the rain-soaked streets, he got the code for the unit from Ted via text message. We arrived at a large, grim warehouse complex near the industrial area. The rain was still falling, we parked the car and Hayden got out. I followed him into the long, silent corridor of units. It was a cold, lonely place. Hayden found the unit number Ted had sent. It was a small, climate-controlled box. He keyed in the number and the lock clicked open with a loud sound that echoed down the hallway. He slid the metal door up. The unit was small, packed tightly with boxes. It smelled faintly of old paper and dust. “I will go first,” Hayden said, stepping inside. “No,” I insisted. “This is about Vivian. I need to see it.” I followed him in. The unit was not full of household items. It was full of filing boxes, the kind of brown cardboard boxes lawyers use. Hayden reached down and pulled the lid off the nearest box. He shone the flashlight on the contents. It was organized, Everything was labeled neatly. The label on the first folder read: ‘M. Larraby – Prenup Analysis’. “These are not her personal things,” I said, my voice low with shock. “These are files. She was working on something.” Hayden pulled out the folder. Inside were copies of my own contract, highlighted in yellow, with notes scribbled in the margins. “She was analyzing your contract,” Hayden confirmed, flipping through the pages. “She was looking for weaknesses.” He put the folder down and pulled out another box. This one had handwritten labels, so we pulled out the contents together. “Look at this,” I whispered, pulling out a handful of files. Each folder had a woman’s name on it. “These are women Eliot was involved with,” Hayden said, his voice hard. “Women he married, or women he almost married. Look at the documents.” We opened the folders. Inside, each one contained a copy of a prenup agreement, all with E L. Holdings as the party of the first part. The clauses, the language, the legal destruction clause Marcus mentioned, it was all the same. Eliot had been using this same legal trap for years. “He did this to dozens of women,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “Vivian was collecting evidence. She knew she was not the only one.” Hayden dropped the files back into the box. He looked sickened. “He was not looking for a wife. He was building a legal portfolio of silent assets. If any of them spoke out, the company would ruin them.” I reached into the back of the unit. There was one last item. It was a small, leather-bound book. It was not a legal file, it was a journal. “Wait,” I said, pulling it out. “This is hers. Vivian’s journal.” I flipped it open carefully. It smelled faintly of lavender, and it was full of small, elegant handwriting. “We have to get this out of here,” Hayden said urgently. He started putting the lids back on the boxes. “We have what we need. Proof of his pattern and the journal. We read the journal when we are safe.” “Okay,” I agreed. “We take it all.”
Hayden’s Pov I barely remembered the drive back to my apartment. The rain was still falling, but the noise of the tires on the wet road was drowned out by the noise in my head. Vivian was alive and we had her evidence. We dumped the two heavy boxes and the leather journal onto the kitchen island in my apartment. The floor was still wet from the rain, and the files looked grim sitting next to the modern, sterile appliances. I ripped off my wet jacket and tossed it aside. Michelle was doing the same, and we were both breathing fast. “The journal first,” I said. It was not a question. “It will tell us where she went.” I picked up the small leather book. The cover was soft and worn. I opened it to the very last page she had written on. The handwriting was neat and small. Michelle leaned in over the island, her wet hair still dripping onto the stone. I started reading out loud. “October 12th. He is not the man I thought he was,” I read. “He told me he needed me to help the company, but all I am doing is working through legal documents that are not fair. Today he made me draft an agreement that lets E L. Holdings claim corporate damages if the partner files for divorce. It is designed to ruin them, I cannot believe I wrote this for him.” I looked up at Michelle. Her face was pale. “That is the clause,” she whispered. “The one Marcus told me about.” “Yes,” I confirmed, flipping through the pages. “The corporate damages clause. The one that guarantees financial ruin.” I nodded and kept reading. “November 1st. I have copies of the documents. I have been putting files together on all the women who were with him. He used the same language every time. The prenup masterpiece, he calls it. He said he is protecting the corporation, but he is just protecting his ego. He is making sure no one can ever leave him without being destroyed first.” “She was collecting the evidence before she even disappeared,” I said, flipping a page quickly. “She was planning this for a long time.” Michelle pointed at the open boxes on the island. “We need to check the others. Pull the folder for P. Nunez. Let us see if the language is the same.” I pulled out the folder labeled P. Nunez. I opened it to the corporate liability section. “It is identical,” I stated, my voice flat. “Word for word. Clause 7. He has used the same legal trap on every woman he has been involved with for years. She was right. It is a machine he built.” “It confirms what Marcus said,” Michelle said slowly. “His goal was never marriage. His goal was to make every woman he touched legally powerless. He used his lawyers to do it, he used Vivian to do it.” “He used his wife to write the contracts that ruined other women,” I said, sickened. I found the entry from a few days before she vanished completely. “December 5th. He showed me the financial analysis on S. Davies. She tried to fight the divorce, and the company completely crushed her. She lost her house, her savings, and everything. I cannot let him do this to me. He is a predator, not a husband. He is using me to execute his legal revenge.” “She was the lawyer,” Michelle pointed out. “She knew exactly how the trap worked because she helped him build it. She knew she was next.” I went to the last full page of writing. The handwriting was rushed now, almost scribbled. “December 10th. He is asking too many questions. He knows I am acting strangely, and he asked me about the missing files. I lied poorly, he knows I know. I have to disappear before I end up like Elena.” I stopped reading. My throat suddenly felt dry, and the heat in the apartment was suddenly too much. The words just hung there in the silence. “Elena,” Michelle repeated, her voice low. “Who is Elena?” I closed the journal slowly. I felt cold inside, colder than the rain outside. I could barely look at her. “Elena was my mother,” I said. My voice was very quiet, strained. “She was Eliot’s first wife. I was seven when she died, it was a boating accident. She drowned during a storm.” Michelle reached out and touched the journal gently. “A boating accident? Did… did anyone ever investigate it seriously?” “It was ruled accidental,” I said, running my thumb over the leather cover. “She loved sailing, but she was careful. She was trying to sail alone. The Coast Guard said the weather was too rough. Eliot was distraught, he was completely broken for months.” I looked at Michelle, and the full weight of the chilling entry hit me. My stomach dropped. I remembered the funeral, I remembered the silence in the house. “Vivian did not think it was an accident,” Michelle whispered, horrified. “She thought Eliot killed your mother. She thought he was capable of it.” “She thought he was capable of killing her,” I corrected, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. My hands were starting to shake again. “Vivian was afraid that because she knew too much about his legal pattern, she would end up like the wife who died in the storm. She did not disappear, she ran for her life.” “But why would he kill her?” Michelle asked. She was whispering now. “Just because she wanted a divorce?” “She was leaving him,” I said, trying to piece together memories from twenty years ago. “And she owned a significant portion of shares in E.L. Holdings. He would have lost control, he would have had to divide everything. He would never allow that… Never.” “So he eliminated the problem,” Michelle stated, her voice tight with disbelief. “He used the contract to ruin the others, but when it was his wife and his shares, he used something faster.” I flipped the journal open again to the final entry. The handwriting was almost illegible, just a single line. “December 11th. Storage unit secured. The key is the company.” “The key is the company,” Michelle repeated, reading over my shoulder. “That must be why she went for an executive position. She knew the way out was through the corporation, just like we did.” “She knew his weakness,” I said. “It is not the personal relationship, it is the company’s legal structure. That is what he cares about and that is what protects him.” I looked at the boxes piled on the island. The files of Eliot’s victims. The proof of his legal abuse and the journal that suggested he might be a murderer. I dropped the journal onto the counter. I felt physically sick.
Hayden’s Pov Michelle reached out and placed her hand firmly on my shoulder. Her touch was warm and steady. “Hayden, look at me,” she ordered gently. I turned my head slowly to face her. “We will find out the truth. We will find Vivian, and we will find out the truth about Elena. We will make him pay for everything he has done.” Her promise settled the movement in my chest. It was a shared commitment now. The files were scattered everywhere, full of names and prenup clauses identical to Michelle’s but I could not focus on the papers. I could only see the chilling words in Vivian’s journal. “I have to disappear before I end up like Elena.” I picked up the journal again, my hands shaking so badly that the leather cover rattled against the stone counter. My mother, Elena. “She did not die of natural causes,” I whispered. I did not mean to say it out loud, but the reality was too crushing to keep inside. Michelle stopped shuffling through the files. She came around the island and stood next to me. She was looking at the entry, seeing the hurried, desperate words. “Hayden, we do not know for sure,” she said, her voice soft and very gentle. “It is her suspicion but it is a very real suspicion, coming from someone who saw how he operates.” “She was terrified,” I insisted, my voice tight and strained. “She was running from him.. And she wrote that she was afraid of ending up like Elena. That is not a coincidence, Michelle… My mother was on a boat during a huge storm, and she drowned. The Coast Guard said she was sailing alone.” I looked at the counter, unable to meet her eyes. “But Eliot was the one who taught her to sail. He would never let her go out alone in a storm. He was obsessed with the weather. He checked the forecast every morning before he left the house. He would have told her not to go.” The truth was settling over me like a heavy, cold blanket. The memory of the funeral, the closed casket, the official story that never quite made sense. “The official story felt wrong,” Michelle said, her hand reaching out and resting gently on my shoulder. “A gap in the logic, like you said. Eliot was grieving, yes. But if he was responsible, he would have been grieving the loss of his control, or pretending to grieve to cover his tracks.” “He murdered her,” I said, the words coming out as a choked, raw sound. My vision blurred slightly. “He must have known she was trying to leave him. He must have done it to get the inheritance and the full control of the shares and then he made it look like a tragic accident to everyone.” I dropped the journal onto the counter. My whole body felt rigid, my mother. All this time, I thought I was just hating my father for being a terrible, cold executive but he was a killer. Michelle squeezed my shoulder gently. Her touch was firm and steady, a grounding weight in the sudden chaos. It helped me stay standing. “We will find out the truth,” she promised. Her voice was strong, carrying the weight of a vow. “We will find Vivian, and we will find out the truth about Elena. We will make him pay for everything he has done to all these women, and for what he did to you.” Her promise hit me with a powerful force. It was no longer about money. It was not about a fake contract. It was about something much deeper and much darker. I looked at her. Her eyes were fixed on me, full of shared determination. I reached up and covered her hand on my shoulder with my own. “He gets away with everything,” I said, my voice thick with bitter frustration. “He uses his money, his contracts, his power. He has done this for twenty years. Nobody ever stops him because they are afraid of the legal ruin he guarantees.” “We stop him,” Michelle insisted, her voice rising slightly with conviction. “He thought he could trap me with a piece of paper. He thought he could ruin me financially. But we are going to use this paper, all of this evidence, to destroy the foundation of his company. We are going to expose him to everyone he ever hurt.” I looked down at the journal, and then at the boxes of files. The names of the women he hurt seemed to jump out at me and then my mother’s name, Elena, echoed in my head, fueling a cold, hard purpose. “I am not just helping you escape,” I said, looking at Michelle. My eyes felt suddenly dry and sharp. “I am going to destroy him. For what he did to my mother.” “That is what we will do,” Michelle agreed. “This is not just about a divorce anymore, this is about justice for Elena, and for all these other women. We work together, Hayden… No more games.” The anger was no longer frantic or confused. It settled into a solid, heavy purpose in my chest. I felt a massive sense of clarity. I reached for my phone. “We need to call Ted back,” I said, grabbing my phone. My hands were steady now. “We need to get this evidence to the police, but through a safe channel. We cannot just walk into the precinct with it. Eliot is too powerful. We need to find Vivian. She needs protection, and she has the rest of the story.” “Ted is the key,” Michelle said, nodding sharply. “He can organize the police. He knows who to trust. While you call Ted, I will organize these files. We need to create a list of all these women. They are his victims. They can testify to the pattern.” “Exactly,” I said, dialing Ted’s number. “We use his own history to ruin him.” “We do not stop until he is completely broken,” Michelle promised. We both turned our attention to the task. The war had just begun.
Michelle’s Pov I was still with Hayden when my phone rang. I looked down at the screen, It was Marcus. I frowned instantly. How did he get this number? It was not listed anywhere. He must have pulled a favor or paid someone off. His contacts ran deep, almost as deep as Eliot’s. I hated that he had this access. I hesitated for a moment, letting it ring twice, i needed to handle this. I could not ignore him, not after he provided the key information about the corporate damages clause. Hayden was about ten feet away, leaning against the counter near the fridge. He was on his own phone, speaking quietly and urgently with Ted. He was already deep into the execution phase of the plan. “So we release the list anonymously first, then we let the police investigate,” Hayden was saying into his phone. “Yes, Ted. You need to verify the police contact is not someone Eliot controls. That is the most important part.” I lifted my phone, trying to keep my voice low so Hayden would not stop his important call. “Hello, Marcus,” I said. Marcus’s voice was smooth and careful, like a polished stone. It immediately put me on edge. “Michelle. I am glad you picked up. I was worried after our last meeting.” “I am fine, Marcus,” I replied quickly, trying to sound bored and dismissive. “I am busy right now. Is this urgent?” “It is very urgent,” he insisted. His tone shifted, becoming conspiratorial. “I have been thinking a lot about your situation and about Eliot’s temperament. He is not a man who accepts defeat, Michelle.” “I know that,” I snapped. I did not need him to remind me of the danger. I was currently staring at evidence that suggested Eliot was a murderer. “I have heard things,” Marcus continued, lowering his voice further. “The whispers at the company are getting louder. Eliot is making moves, he is not happy with the rumors about his stepson’s sudden legal freedom”. He smells a fight coming, Michelle. “That man is a shark… When he smells blood, he comes fast. I think you are in more danger than you realize right now.” I gripped the phone tighter. He did not know about the wedding, but he knew about the general tension and the legal challenge. He knew about the corporate damages clause. He knew too much. It was disturbing. “I appreciate your concern,” I said, trying to hold onto my cool. “But I have things under control.” “Do you?” he challenged. “Think about where you are. You are in his sphere of influence. You are his official wife, still. He has spies everywhere, the house is compromised. His building is compromised, if he suspects you are challenging the prenup in any way, he will monitor every move you make. You cannot stay there, you need protection, Michelle. Real protection.” He paused, letting the heavy suggestion hang in the air. I looked over at Hayden, who was still talking to Ted, running his fingers through his hair in stress. I thought about the files, about Vivian, about Elena. Marcus was right about the danger. “What are you suggesting, exactly?” I asked, lowering my voice even more. The idea of a decoy suddenly felt brilliant. “I am suggesting that his house is no longer safe for you,” Marcus repeated. “You need to vanish for a few weeks, Michelle. Move in with me. I have a large apartment downtown, very secure. He will never know where you are, so we can work through your documents properly. I can keep you safe until this entire mess is sorted out.” “Marcus, I appreciate the offer, but I….” I began, trying to find a polite way to say no while still considering the tactical value of his suggestion. Before I could finish the sentence, a hand shot out and clamped around my phone. It was Hayden, he had been listening to everything, even while talking to Ted. His eyes were blazing with furious, possessive anger. He slammed his own call with Ted on hold, making a loud clicking sound. Then, he grabbed my phone tightly. He did not even look at me. He just held my phone up to his mouth, his jaw clenched tight. “Marcus,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous command that made the blood run cold. “This is Hayden. You are talking to my wife.” I stared at him, my mouth open in disbelief and shock. He had used the word. “She is safe,” Hayden continued, his voice completely devoid of patience or warmth. “She does not need your apartment, and she certainly does not need your ‘protection.’ You are a rival of my father. You are not a bodyguard, stay away from her and stay away from this family business. Consider this your only warning.” He waited a beat, listening to Marcus’s presumed outrage on the other end. Then, with a sudden, violent movement, he slammed his thumb down on the end call button. He did not give Marcus a chance to argue or even speak a full sentence. He did not give me a chance either. He looked at me, his eyes full of the same intense, cold anger I had seen when he realized Eliot had murdered his mother but this anger was directed at me, at Marcus, at the threat. It was protective, possessive, and completely terrifying. “What was that?” I demanded, snatching my phone back. It felt hot in my hand. “That was incredibly rude. I was handling that situation. He was offering an advantage.” “You were considering that,” he shot back, his voice raw and loud. “You were actually considering moving in with the man who is trying to exploit our situation and ruin my father’s business, which would ruin everything for us. Are you crazy, Michelle?” “It would have been a perfect distraction!” I argued, pushing back. “If Eliot thinks I am running off to Marcus, he will focus all his resources there. It would give you time with Ted and these files. It takes the pressure off us.” “No,” Hayden stated flatly. He took a step closer, crowding me against the counter. “It would make you a pawn in Marcus’s game. You do not move in with him. We just found out that my father is likely a murderer. You do not go anywhere near someone who can be easily manipulated by him. You are my wife, you’ll stay here with me.”
Michelle’s Pov I snatched my phone back from Hayden. I held it tightly in my hand, staring at the screen that still showed Marcus’s contact information. I was breathing hard, my chest tight with a sudden, boiling fury that had nothing to do with Eliot and everything to do with Hayden. “You had no right to do that,” I repeated, louder this time. The sound echoed in the apartment, competing with the distant noise of the rain. “I told you I was handling it. You took my phone and spoke to him like you own me. Like I am an object you can command.” Hayden was still standing right in front of me. He looked down at me, his eyes sharp and completely cold. The warmth of the moment where he realized the truth about his mother was gone. Now, he was just a cold, controlling executive again. “I made the correct strategic move, Michelle,” he stated, his voice flat, completely dismissing my feelings. “Marcus is a distraction, a risk. I told him to back off, we are focused on the evidence and the police. We do not have time for his games. Besides, I didn’t do a bad thing by telling him to back off. He has no right to be speaking to you.” “That is not the point!” I exploded. I felt a rush of adrenaline. All the buried resentment from the past few days, the fake wedding, the stepping over boundaries, the near kiss that led to this cold command, it all came rushing out. “The point is the control! You did not ask me, you did not suggest. You just decided, you commanded Marcus, and you commanded me.” I took a step back, putting distance between us. I needed to see him clearly. He stood there, rigid and unyielding. “You are acting just like your father!” The words hit the air with the sharp crack of a slap. I regretted them the second they left my mouth, but the truth in them felt necessary. “Eliot always thinks he knows best. He always decides for everyone else, he uses his power, his position, his voice, to shut everyone else down. You just did the same thing and that is quite sad!” Hayden’s face went completely cold. It was a terrifying transformation, all the color drained away. The anger I had seen before, the fury over his mother, had heat to it. This was different, this was a frozen devastating shock. It was worse than anger. He took a slow step back from me. He looked at me for a long moment, and his eyes were empty. There was nothing left in them but hurt and a distant, bitter realization. “You think I am like him,” he said, his voice quiet now, dangerously controlled. “After everything we just discovered. After everything I risked getting you out of his contract. You think I am the same as the man who used legal tricks to ruin innocent women and who probably murdered my mother… Is this Michelle speaking or someone else?” “I did not say you are a murderer,” I argued, instantly stepping back from the most painful part of my accusation. “I said you are acting like him, you assume the power, you assume the control. You decide what is best for me. You do not treat me like a partner. You treat me like a subordinate or like a dependent.” “You are dependent right now,” he stated, the words clipped and unforgiving. “Your safety and the success of the entire plan depend on you being here, away from anyone Eliot can use to get to us and I am the one holding the legal and strategic cards. So yes, I am taking control. I am keeping us alive and free.” He shook his head slowly, looking at the journal on the counter, then at me. The disappointment in his expression was crushing. “But if that is what you truly think of me,” he continued, his voice heavy with finality, “if you genuinely believe that I am just a younger version of the man we are trying to destroy, and that my protection is just another form of abuse…” He paused, and the silence stretched out, suffocating us both. “Then maybe you should marry Marcus instead,” he finished, the words low and icy. “Maybe you should go to him for your protection. He seems to offer you everything I do not. He offers you a choice to move in. He offers you freedom from me.” He did not wait for my reaction. He did not ask for a reply, he simply turned away from me. He walked toward the door to his bedroom. He picked up the dry jacket he had tossed aside earlier and put it on. “I will be outside,” he said without looking back. “I will call Ted from my car. I need to get away from here before this conversation ruins the last chance we have. You can stay here, you can look at the files. You can decide if I am worthy of your trust and you can decide if you want to call Marcus back.” He walked out of the apartment. He did not slam the door, but the soft click of the lock sounded louder than any shout. I was left alone in the apartment. The boxes of evidence were still on the counter. The journal lay open, its desperate words staring up at me. My phone was in my hand. I looked at the contacts. Marcus was still there. I had pushed too far. I had taken the deepest wound I could find, the comparison to his father, and I had used it to attack him. And now, he had walked out, leaving me with the choice to either trust him or betray him completely. I was completely alone in his apartment, surrounded by the proof that my life was still in extreme danger. I was shocked and furious and instantly terrified.
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