Chapter 6

  

“Lyla, your father is dead.”

My breath hitched, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I was even breathing at all. The room tilted slightly, as if the ground had shifted beneath me. I stared at her, searching for a flicker of remorse, some sign of regret. Maybe she was joking, trying to toy with my emotions but Romona’s expression was unreadable. Her voice was calm, almost too calm, as if she were delivering news about the damn weather.

“You’re lying,”

I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her crimson lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it.

“I’m not in the habit of lying, Lyla. You know that about me by now”

Romona tilted her head, her dark blue eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t say……Triumph? Pity? No, not pity. She’d never wasted that on me before.

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

she continued coolly. Adjusting her perfectly blond bun hair.

“The hospital contacted me yesterday. They said they’d been trying to reach you, but you’re impossible to get through too.”

Yesterday?

“Your father passed away a night before”

My heart sank. The hospital had my number, my appointment line rather since I've never considered owning a normal cell phone, but between my crazy shifts at Aunt Marie’s and dodging every unknown call that reeked of telemarketers or debt collectors, I must have missed it. Guilt settled like a stone in my stomach.

“They said he had a heart attack while in his Coma”

Romona continued, crossing her legs like she was posing for a portrait.

“Seems like he finally gave up on the race. It was quick, they said. Painless even, If that gives you any form of comfort.”

Her tone ended flatly, she made it clear she didn’t care whether it was or not. I stared at her, allowing the words to sink in, but my mind refused to process them. Dad couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t.

“And you waited a whole day to tell me?”

I snapped, my voice trembling with rage.

“How considerate of you, Romona.”

She raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

“I came as soon as I could, darling. But you’re not exactly easy to find these days. Or did you think you could hide forever?”

“I wasn’t hiding,”

I shot back, though my voice lacked conviction.

“Sure you weren’t.”

She leaned forward slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“But that’s not all, Lyla. The bank called me this morning. Seems your father left behind quite the financial mess. The interest on his debts has tripled, and let’s just say, it’s more than you could ever dream of paying off working in this... establishment.”

Her gaze met mine and that stupid grin of hers was back. My fists clenched at my sides.

“This is was all your doing Romona, and I'm the one left to clean after your mess”

Rage boiled in me gradually. I bit my lips harder to prevent myself from boiling over.

She let out a low laugh, shaking her head.

“Oh darling, and I'm grateful for that. I just wish I had the house in my name as well”

She giggled and I could do was watch. I hated this woman.

“Because of you I’ve been barely scraping by on my own, trying to piece together what you left behind so don't come here acting like I owe you anything”

I swallowed hard, hating the tears that threatened to fall.

Romona sighed dramatically, as if my grief were an inconvenience.

“Don’t be so emotional. I didn’t come here to fight. I came with a solution.”

I glared at her, arms crossed.

“Oh, this should be good.”

She stood, smoothing her dress as she moved closer, the smell of her overpowering perfume making my stomach churn.

“An acquaintance of mine has a... unique proposition. He’s in need of a wife, and he’s willing to pay handsomely for it.”

I blinked, certain I’d misheard her.

“A wife? What are you talking about?”

“It’s quite simple,”

she said, her voice dripping like honey, the sweetness sounds intoxicating.

“His grandfather left him a significant inheritance, but there’s a catch—he has to be married to claim it. Unfortunately, he has a bit of a... reputation, so finding a willing partner hasn’t been easy.”

“A reputation?”

I echoed, skeptical.

Romona waved a hand dismissively, like she was shooing away a fly.

“That doesn’t matter, Lyla. What matters is the money. He’s offering enough to settle your father’s debts and leave you with more than enough to start over. All you have to do is play the part.”

As if she couldn’t help herself, her hands seemed to move on their own, her sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe again.

“I admire how thinner you've gotten honestly,”

she said, tilting her head as if that was some kind of compliment.

“It’s... a good look for you. Makes your figure more noticeable.”

Her cold fingers brushing against my arm. I flinched but didn’t pull away fast enough. She gripped my wrist lightly, holding me still as she circled me like she was inspecting a mannequin.

“But these eye bags?”

Her fingers darted up to touch just under my eyes.

“Horrid little things. Have you been getting any sleep at all?”

I swallowed, not trusting myself to speak. Why does she care anyways.

“And your hair,”

she went on, grabbing a strand of my black-brown hair and holding it between her fingers like it was something dirty.

“Oily. Dull. Really, Lyla, what have you been doing to yourself? You used to have such nice luxurious hair.”

She grabbed a handful from my roots, but I didn’t react. I didn’t give her the satisfaction.

She sighed, letting go of my hair and stepping back.

“Well, nothing a good salon trip won’t fix. Some proper makeup, a bit of effort... You’ll look decent enough to pass.”

I gritted my teeth as she waved me off again, her tone turning back to business.

“Anyway, like I said, This arrangement could solve everything for you.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and I stood there, feeling more trapped with every word she spoke.

“You want me to marry some stranger for money?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, a little sacrifice for a good cause.”

she said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s a business arrangement, nothing more. And frankly, it’s the best offer you’re going to get. The alternative is... well, let’s just say it’s not pretty.”

I felt the walls closing in again, the weight of her words pressing down on me.

“What’s the alternative?”

I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“The bank seizes everything. Your father’s name is dragged through the mud, and you’re left with nothing. No home, no job, no future.”

I stared at her, the room spinning around me. Well I already lost my home, that's obvious enough. I handed it over as collateral for the loan I now presently owe. But the rest is a bit of a stretch.

This couldn’t be happening. I’d spent years clawing my way out of the hole she’d dug for me, only to be shoved right back in.

“What’s in it for you?”

I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her smile widened, a glint of something predatory in her eyes.

“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in seeing this arrangement succeed. But don’t worry, Lyla. You’ll come out of this better than ever. Trust me.”

Trust her? The woman who’d spent my childhood tearing me down at every turn? Not likely.

“The word ‘trust’ is the last thing I would want to hear coming out from you, Romona.”

I said, shaking my head.

“Well it's your decision, I'm always the spectator of the event after all"

She grinned and my spine shivered. I hate this woman with everything I have left in me.

My mind wandered off, thinking of the risk management when it came to Putin my faith and trust in this witch.

“I need time to think.”

I said doubtfully

“Time isn’t a luxury you have,”

she said, her tone suddenly sharp.

“The clock is ticking, and the bank won’t wait. You have until the end of the week to decide, Lyla. After that, the choice is out of your hands.”

She turned on her heel, heading for the door.

“I’ll leave the details here,” she said, pulling a slim folder from her bag and placing it on Aunt Marie’s desk.

“You’ll find everything you need inside. Think it over carefully.”

Romona walked towards me then past me reaching for the door

“And tell madam Marie it was a pleasure to meet her”

She concluded and just like that, she was gone, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence.

I sank into the chair, my hands trembling. Suddenly an uneasiness trapped me in place, the room felt smaller, the air heavier.

Fuck!!, this lunatic mother of mine wants me dead as well. I hated her with every fiber in me. Worst of all I hated that her solution was quite realistic. She was right, dad is dead and I can't do anything on my own. Even if I was to work off to pay the debt it might take a decade before having to solve half of it.

I stared at the file placed on the table before me. Taking in everything Romona had said before picking up the file.

A name jumped out at me,

Declan Pierce.

The details on the paper were vague, almost deliberate. But the numbers? They were impossible to ignore. Seventy five Million dollars and ten percent of that was mine. Enough to pay off every cent of my father’s debts. Enough to start over somewhere new. Enough to finally escape this never-ending cycle of fear and desperation.

My hands trembled as I flipped the paper over. My guts stabbed me with doubt, telling me this was a trap, one I was slowly falling into. The money was there, so tempting, so easy.

But at what cost?