Imogene ScottI’m not sure how long it’s been but it feels like forever. My bag isn’t here, it’s by the booth so I don’t access my phone. And this room has nothing that can help.Which is why I’ve resorted to slamming my fists against the door. My hands are sour now. It’s probably been hours. How could Elinor do this? How could she lock me in here, like some prisoner? My skin feels clammy, and a cold sweat runs down my back. I lean my forehead against the door, breathing in shallow gasps. Regrets starts to bubble up in me all over again. I can’t believe it.Elinor played me. She used me, lied to me, made me doubt everything. And I believed her over Damien. Tears sting my eyes, but I force them back. This is my fault. I let her words poison my thoughts, and now... now Damien is probably gone. I pace the small room, feeling my skin prickly with goosebumps. I betrayed Damien’s trust, didn’t I? I didn’t believe him when he was honest. The look in his eyes when I confronted him about
Imogene Scott I stand frozen in the parking lot, the reality that Damien is gone hitting me. My eyes scan the crowd again, but there’s nothing. No sign of him anywhere. I’ve never felt this kind of desperation before—this gnawing, aching feeling that I’ve lost everything. And it’s my fault. My hands tremble as I wipe my face, clearing away the tears. I look around, the sight of people laughing and chatting as they walk to their cars.I spot an empty car near the edge of the lot, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m climbing onto the hood. The cold metal under my feet feels like the only solid thing in my life right now. I stand there, breathing hard, and people start to look up, curious about the crazy lady that’s standing on a car. They stop walking, turning to see what I’m doing. Some look confused, others amused, but I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it. “Damien!” I shout, my voice cracking as it cuts through the crowd. “Damien, if you’re here, please… please listen
Imogene ScottBut then, just as I’m about to turn away, I hear a familiar voice.“Imogene.”I freeze. My heart skips a beat, and I turn around slowly, afraid that I’ve imagined it.But I didn’t. There he is. Damien. Standing just a few feet away, his eyes locked on mine, his expression unreadable. He’s still here. He’s not gone.“Damien…” I breathe, taking a shaky step forward.He walks toward me, and I an barely breathe as he steps closer, until we’re standing just inches apart. I search his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking, but I can’t.“You… you heard me?” I whisper.He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “I heard everything.”For a moment, neither of us speaks. I bite my lip, waiting for him to say something, anything. I’m terrified that I’ve messed this up beyond repair.“You’re not…saying anything?” I ask under my breath.Damien curls an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. Our bodies flush and I barely have time to register what’s happening before he pr
I noticed some readers do not approve of Damien and Imogene’s relationship. So, over to you guys, do you think Damien deserves Imogene?
Imogene Scott Three weeks later… I fold the last dress and tuck it into my suitcase, but my hands linger over the zipper. My stomach churns. It's just one week, I tell myself, pressing down the thoughts that keep rising. A whole week without Lily. I sigh and zip the suitcase shut.I walk over to the dresser, grabbing my phone and charger. The room feels heavy, like it's waiting for me to change my mind. It feels wrong leaving Lily, even if it’s just for a week. “What if she misses us?” I whisper to myself, though I know she’s in good hands. Breonna loves her, and Lily adores Breonna, but still…The doorbell rings, cutting through my thoughts. My heart does this strange little twist, and I force myself to breathe. It’s Breonna. She’s here. I head to the door, opening it to see her standing there with a bright smile. “Hey, you ready?” she asks, stepping inside with a bag slung over her shoulder.“Yeah… almost,” I say, stepping aside to let her in. She immediately picks up on my
Damien Shaw As we pull out of the parking lot, I glance over at Imogene. She’s sitting stiffly in the passenger seat, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twisting a small strand of hair. She’s trying to hide it, but I know her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders. The way her jaw tightens every few seconds. I place a hand on her knee and give it a gentle squeeze. “Lily’s going to be fine, you know,” I say. “Breonna knows what she’s doing. You trust her, right?”“It’s not about trusting Breonna. I do. It’s just...I’ve never been away from her for this long.”I nod, understanding her hesitation. I get it. I really do. But we need this. She needs this. We need time for ourselves after the roller coaster of dramas we’ve been through.“I know it’s hard, but it’s only a week. And we’ll call, FaceTime—hell, Breonna will probably send you a picture of Lily every five minutes if you ask her to.”Imogene smiles faintly. “She’ll be okay,” I repeat, my thumb rubbing soft circl
Imogene Scott Damien and I take the rest of the day to rest after an hour’s video call with Lily. By morning, we are fully recharged to start out seven days relaxation plan. Except, we stay in a private villa, just us two. There’s another one next to ours, but I’m not sure if it’s vacant or not. Which leaves me with the option of checking out to check out the other villas which is a bit far from shore. The villa has tons of people, compared to the secluded part Damien and I booked. A few people are lurking around, while some are in bikinis, sitting under shades by the pool. I suddenly feel too dressed in my long yellow sundress.When I reach the pool, a blonde in a bikini rushes over. “Hey, want a balloon?” She waves a ball-shaped red balloon in front of me. “We’re about to have a game, and Team V needs another player.”“Um. No?” I want to explore a little bit before getting roped into playing some game.“You sure?” “Maybe later.”Her eyes widen. “Wait, aren’t you the MKTO bir
Imogene ScottDahlia smiles as she squeezes my hand. “Don’t stress with labels. I should know better.”“Really,”“Yeah. I’ve been married for ten years now.” she says calmly.Okay, did she just say she’s married? She’s been married for ten years? What the hell is happening here?“What? You were just crying over…”“My jerktastic boyfriend, yes.” she finishes for me. “It’s…erm…it’s an open marriage.”“Wow.” My hands fly to my mouth without me realizing it. An open marriage? I’ve always thought open marriages were ridiculous. Why would you want to sleep with other people when you’re already married and committed to someone else?“Yes. My husband and I can sleep with whoever we want to.” she adds as if she can read my mind. “It doesn’t affect the love we have for each other. At least that was the initial plan until…”“You fell for someone else.” Here I’m thinking my relationship with Damien is complicated.“Exactly.” she sighs. “His name is Daniel. Met him at this night bar my husban
Imogene Scott I sit in the living room, wringing my hands together as I stare at the clock. The agency said they’d send the fourth candidate soon, but if she’s anything like the last three, I’m not sure I’ll survive the day. The first woman looked like she’d send me into an early grave with how tightly wound she was, and the second… I don’t even want to think about her. I could practically see her zoning out halfway through our conversation. The third one made me tilt my head in disbelief—a heavy coat, in this heat? On a blazing sunny day? What was she hiding under there? I shake my head, exasperated. A long sigh slips from my lips, and I sink further into the couch, staring at the sun-drenched curtains. Why is this so hard? I just want someone competent. Someone who can help me manage this house without driving me insane. The sharp ring of the doorbell jolts me upright. I spring to my feet, brushing invisible creases from my dress. Fourth time’s the charm, right? I don’t
Damien Shaw "I don’t even know who to trust anymore." The words are frustrating as they leave my mouth. I press my hands flat against the edge of my desk, gripping it harder. Gerald stands across from me, his expression carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “Weaknesses in our security?” I continue. “And now we’re sure someone on the inside helped with the leak?”Gerald nods. “Yes. The evidence points to internal involvement. Possibly more than one person.” The idea sinks into my chest like a stone. More than one person. It’s almost unthinkable. My team, the people I’ve trusted, built this company with—could they really be working against me? My throat tightens at the thought. “We need a full background check on every employee,” I say. “No exceptions. I don’t care how long they’ve been with the company, whether they’re at the executive level or just interns. Go through them all.”Gerald hesitates, just for a second. “That’ll take time,” he says carefull
Imogene Scott My mind is spinning as I step out of Lila’s office. Divorce papers. My father’s name on them. Lila’s isn’t. A billion-dollar check. For her? My heels echo sharply against the marble floor as I walk. In the lobby, I see the receptionist who texted me earlier and make my way toward her. She looks around nervously, then waves me over to a quieter corner. “You’re Mr. Scott’s daughter, right?” her voice low.“Yes,” I say. “Why?”She glances over her shoulder, then leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your father was here the day before he was... you know. Killed. He and Lila had a huge fight in her office. I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but it was bad.”My stomach drops. “Do you remember anything else? Anything at all?” She shakes her head apologetically. “No, but... there’s something not right about her. She’s hiding something about this company. I’ve been here a long time, and I know when something’s off.”I blink, trying to process her word
Imogene Scott A week later… I sit in the stiff leather chair, my hands resting over my stomach. The waiting room is quiet and the door finally swings open. The doctor steps in, holding a folder. My breath hitches. This is routine, I remind myself. Routine. I’m here for my usual checkup. Alone this time. I had told Damien he didn’t have to accompany me since he’s been missing a lot work a lot lately because of me.“Mrs. Shaw,” The doctor says with a polite nod, gesturing for me to join him in his office. I follow, my heels clicking against the tile floor. His office smells faintly of antiseptic and lavender, maybe. I sit across from his desk, the folder now open in front of him. He doesn’t look alarmed, but there’s a wrinkle in his brow. “Imogene, I’m glad you came in today.” “Is everything alright?” He nods but steeples his fingers, leaning forward slightly. “The babies are fine, but your stress levels are higher than we’d like. It’s starting to show in your vitals
Imogene Scott The bedroom feels too big when Damien walks out. I sit up in bed, clutching the edge of the blanket. I let out a shaky breath, staring at the door he just closed. He’s going to ask me about therapy. I know he will. I don’t even know how to explain it. How do I tell him that sitting in that room felt like unpacking a suitcase only to realize you’ve brought nothing but broken things? That therapy didn’t feel like healing—it felt like dragging wounds out into the open and watching them bleed. I shake my head. I can’t stay in bed waiting for him to corner me. The quiet will drive me insane. I throw back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My head spins as I stand, but I grip the bedpost and steady myself. I shuffle to the door, trailing my hand along the wall as I make my way downstairs. The faint hum of the stovetop reaches my ears, along with the rhythmic sound of Damien chopping something. I stop at the edge of the kitchen and watch him.
Damien Shaw “Please, keep the investigation discreet for now,” I say firmly, meeting Gerald’s gaze. My voice is steady, but my insides churn. Gerald nods and gathers his notes before leaving my office. The door clicks shut and I sink into my seat, pinching the bridge of my nose as my temples throb. Five meetings, all back-to-back in one morning. Each one is a battlefield of strategy, damage control, and trying to piece together what the hell is happening with this damn leak. My head feels like it’s about to split open, and the office suddenly seems unbearably warm. I loosen my tie and lean back, closing my eyes for a brief moment. I need just a second—one second to breathe— My phone vibrates against the desk, shattering the silence. I grab it immediately, hoping it’s Gerald with an update, but instead, I see Imogene’s name. It’s a text: Imogene: "I don’t think therapy is good for me."My stomach twists. Therapy. The session. What happened? My thumb hovers over her nam
“Yes,” I say with a little more heat on it than I would’ve liked. “Because he believed in me. He believed I could do it.”“Okay.”“He believed in me.”“I understand.”Beat.“Can you tell me what happened after you helped him save the company?” Annie pauses to find the right words. This one I don’t want to answer but I feel like if I wiggle around it Annie will just come right back for the jugular with her follow up. I tread with caution.“Well… he got married again.”“And you?”“Yes, what about me?”“Were you in touch with him?”“Well, he had his new life. We barely kept touch.”Annie holds another of her trademark unreadable stares at me. Even though I can’t gauge the specics, I can tell there’s a lot of speculation going on. I feel theneed to add more.“Plus, we started keeping in touch again recently.” I give a little nod to punctuate my statement. I’m hoping that moved the dialon Annie’s judgment, but after a few seconds I can tell it didn’t.Annie purses her lips. “Who reached
Imogene Scott I sit down in the tufted chair opposite Dr Annie Eddie and let out a sigh. This is my first therapy session with her and I’m a little nervous. I’m only here because of Damien. Because I want to be better for him, for Lily and the twins. I tell her a few things about my life I’m comfortable telling anyone and she tells me in order to get to what’s underneath those emotions, what’s driving it, we need to unpack my life in a more comprehensive way.“Okay…” I’m hesitant. What will this entail? I hate the uncertainty.“And please, address me as Annie.” I nod. “Sure.”“Now, I want to understand more about Little Imogene,” she says tenderly. “I understand your mother died of cancer when you were just ten.”Always with the childhood, these therapists. I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows to know that this is the classic therapeutic scapegoat. Some shit happenedin your childhood, it messed you up, that’s why you are the way you are.But not me. I didn’t have an alcoholic d
Damien Shaw The kitchen smells like butter and eggs as I stand by the stove, flipping the omelette in the pan. The sizzle fills the air, and I catch the faintest scent of parsley—Lily insists she hates green things, but I sneak them in for her anyway. I glance at the clock above the sink. It’s later than I thought. Imogene is still upstairs with the doctor. I hope that goes smoothly, but something tells me it won’t. “Mummy says eggs make you strong like Superman!” Lily’s voice cuts through my thoughts as she rushes into the kitchen.“Is it ready, Daddy?” she asks.She’s peering up at me with those wide, curious eyes that make me feel like I’m doing something right in this whole parenting thing. “Just in time,” I say.I slide the omelette onto a small plate, cut it into smaller pieces, then hand it to her. “Thank you!” she chirps before scampering into the living room. I follow her with my eyes as she climbs onto the couch, settling in with her plate. A faint movement ca