Lauren's POV The air was thick with tension after the words flew out of Jameson’s mouth, the kind that could suffocate anyone within its reach. Damien was now seething, and I had the urge to step in between him and his brother, but I knew better. “You were doing so good, Jameson,” Damien said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe how foolish I was to think that you were getting better. I thought you were regretting all the bad things that happened, but you have crossed the line.” To me, it wasn’t just the words Jameson had uttered; it was the weight behind them, the sheer audacity to accuse me of being the cause of the family’s disintegration when he had just been told about how the murder of his sister, which he committed, had made his son dejected. “How could you, Jameson?” I finally erupted. His eyes were still dark and filled with fury as he fixed them on me with an intensity that could burn holes through my skin. “How dare you tell me that all this is
Lauren's POV The cool night air was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside me. My heart pounded in her chest as I stumbled out of the house, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The house had felt like a place to heal from the wounds of my past, but now it was tainted with fear and uncertainty. I fumbled for my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed 911. The operator’s calm voice was a lifeline in the chaos. “911, what’s your emergency?” “Someone’s in my house,” I whispered, my voice barely steady as tears filled my eyes. “I heard noises upstairs, and the door was open when I got home.” “Stay calm, ma’am. Are you outside the house now?” “Yes,” I replied, glancing back at the darkened structure. “I’m outside, but I don’t know if they’re still in there.” “Okay, stay on the line with me. Officers are on their way. Can you see anything unusual? Any vehicles or people around?” I scanned the area, my eyes darting
Lauren's POV I could hardly breathe as I read the news tab that gave a recount of the horrifying details. The woman had been murdered after a house that she shared with other people was broken into the night before. That night was a blur, filled with sleepless tossing and turning, but I knew nothing had happened while I slept. Or at least, I thought I knew. The possibility that the same intruder could have been in my house chilled me to the bone. My hands trembled as I reached for my phone, barely managing to dial Damien’s number. When he answered, the sound of his voice was like a lifeline. I could barely get the words out between sobs. “Damien… someone was killed… so close to here,” I managed, choking on my tears as I felt the world spinning before my eyes. “Lauren, are you okay? I’m on my way. I went on the road as soon as I woke up,” he said, his voice urgent and calming all at once. “Stay put. I’ll be there in no time. But if you don’t feel safe in
Lauren's POV I burst through the door of the rehab center when it was opened after I had knocked on it, my wild eyes going every which way to figure out if anything was out of place. Damien was right beside me in support, unsure of what I was there to do but being there anyway. “Why have you all refused to give my mother’s information to the police?” I asked, fuming as I headed toward the woman that I recognized as an authoritative figure there. “And why was this place stated as a community house and not a rehabilitation facility in the news? Have you all decided to bury the whole thing?” Damien added. The woman shook her head in denial almost immediately as she gave us a smile that seemed to be her attempt to calm us down. But it only made me angry. She knew that I was inquiring about my mother’s death that had taken place in that same building, and her nonchalance was getting me riled up. “Can we take this to the office? There are still people in here
Lauren's POV I stared at my phone, the digits of the unknown number that had just been used to call me glaring back at me as I dialed it and placed the phone against my ear. Three rings had come and gone, each one stretching into an agonizing eternity. No one had answered. I let out a frustrated breath, my fingers tightening around the device as if I could will the caller to pick up. Whoever was on the other end of that line was a shadow in the fog of my memories, a ghostly figure I couldn’t shake. The voice had been chilling, cold, and detached. The words had seared into my mind: “Aren’t you grateful that I spared your life?” That voice belonged to the person who had shattered my world, the one who had taken my mother from me. The rage that simmered within me was a constant companion, a reminder of the injustice I felt every waking moment. I shoved the phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on
It was the kind of day where even the sun seemed reluctant to shine. Damien’s car moved slowly along the winding road back to my house, the silence between us thick and heavy. The hum of the engine felt like the only thing holding me in reality. We had just left the rehab center where my mother had died, and I couldn’t shake the image of her lifeless body from my mind as I had to identify her. Damien glanced at me, his brow furrowed with concern. “Lauren, we’re going to find Alice,” he said, his voice steady. “I promise you that. And I’ll figure out what connection she has to your mother’s death.” I nodded, my eyes fixed on the passing trees. The pain of losing my mother was still too raw, too fresh. “Thank you,” I whispered, barely able to muster the energy to speak. He hesitated, then continued, “I think you should come to the city with me. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.” I sighed, the thought of leaving my the place where I w
Lauren's POV I stared at Damien, disbelief coursing through my veins. “What do you mean, the killer has been traced to my house?” My voice wavered despite my attempt to sound strong. Damien’s expression was a mixture of concern and frustration. “Lauren, you need to trust me on this. We have to leave now. Go to the second house in the city—the one I gave you as a wedding gift. It’s safer there.” His words barely registered. My mother’s killer here, in this house, possibly once again? The very thought sent a shiver down my spine. But I couldn’t just run away. Not now. Not after everything. “No,” I said firmly, my voice steadier now. “I’m not leaving. I’m calling the police.” I sat down on the edge of the bed, the old wood creaking under my weight. My hands shook as I picked up my phone and dialed the number on the police business card. Damien watched me, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t try to stop me. “Riverside police department. How may I—” “This
Lauren's POV The loud beeping sound filled the car, a reminder that something was terribly wrong. My pulse quickened, matching the rhythm of the noise, and I could see Damien’s knuckles whiten as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. He glanced at me, a look of realization and fear passing over his face. “Lauren,” Damien’s voice was urgent, almost panicked. “We have to get out of the car.” “What do you mean?” I asked, my own voice trembling. The tension between us had been palpable ever since the incident at my house, but this was something else entirely. This was life or death. “There might be an explosive,” he said, his words cutting through the chaos in my mind like a knife. He immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road, his actions rapid and precise. Before I could react, he was leaning across me, fumbling with the door handle on my side. “You need to run. Now. As fast and as far as you can.” I stared at him, the gravity of the situati
6 MONTHS LATER “What are you doing?” I laughed as Damien pulled me out of bed that evening and practically sat me down in front of the vanity to brush my hair and get me ready. “The dinner’s in one hour,” he reminded. “I don’t want to be late for this.” I frowned and turned around to face him, prompting him to stop brushing my hair. “So, you’re worried about family dinners all of a sudden? You know, the last time we had this, you seemed like you would have been better off dead than being there.” “People change.” He shrugged, a grin sitting on his face that made me realize that there was something he wasn’t telling me. I couldn’t drill him about it because I had a secret of mine. I took the brush from his hand and started to do it myself when he placed a kiss on my cheek. “I love you,” he said. I had gotten used to his random love confessions whenever he felt the need to say it. It had been six months since…well, everything. I moved back fr
“Lauren, are you okay?” Damien asked as he opened the door to the house where he was staying later that night. Instead of giving him an answer, I pushed myself into his arms and broke down in tears. That might, I cried all the tears that I had refused to cry the whole time. Every emotion that I had refused to let out and express, all of it was on the ground around. And Damien just let me. “You’re fine, you’re fine,” he told me in sweet whispers as he led me to the bedroom and set me down on the bed. He held me there for as long as he possibly could. “He was doing that to them for years. Shirley and I were friends—best friends—in high school, and I didn’t even notice. How could I not notice what she was going through at the time?” I asked when I had no more tears left. “What do you mean? What was she going through?” Damien asked, sounding confused as he stared at me and waited for me to recollect and gather myself. “Her father was taking advantage of
I had spent two more nights in the hotel biting my nails anxiously as I waited for any update from Jameson about Shirley’s father and if he had been caught. I spent those days wondering if he knew now that she was dead, and if he felt guilty about being a big factor in it. It was no surprise that I jumped and snatched my phone from the nightstand when his name flashed on my screen one evening while I was forcing myself to close my eyes and go to sleep. “Lauren, I need you to help me identify the bastard,” his voice boomed coolly into the phone when I picked it up. “I might be a bit sorry for him if he’s not the one and I got the wrong guy. I’ve taken matters into my hands right now.” “I’m coming. I’m coming right now. Send me the address,” I rambled. His words sent a new rush to me, the sleep that was eluding me long forgotten as I got up and dashed out of bed and started gettingready to leave. When Jameson hung up, a quick text from his numbe
I stared at the unopened email that had been scheduled to be sent to me by Shirley. Several questions whirled in my head as I sat on the edge of my bed, not sure what to do or even whether to do anything at all. Had she planned to send that, knowing what she would do to herself? Was she going to apologize in the email? Was I even ready to open it? “Oh, Shirley.” I shook my head with a defeated sigh. God knew I loved her with everything I had in me, but she went ahead to stab me in the back. And even at that, I still loved and cared about her. Was Katarina’s death really all that drove her to do what she did? The more questions I had, the clearer it became to me that the answers I needed, along with closure, were trapped in that email message that I had refused to open. Finally, I clicked on the bold letters that showed the subject of the email, and it came into full view, to the detriment of my heart. To: LAUREN. Subject: I’M SORRY… ‘By the tim
I didn’t know how long I stood there, watching Conrad choke on his tears above Shirley’s body. My heart broke for him, and I could feel Damien’s rigid body standing beside me. “Let’s go,” Conrad finally said as he got up and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his tears. “We need to take her away and give her a funeral. She may have done horrible things, but she was not entirely a horrible person.” Conrad turned to me with a faint smile on his face. “Are you coming, too?” I froze as my mind whirled with thoughts upon thoughts. I hadn’t thought about the funeral, going to it. I didn’t even think that I would be leaving Beverly Hills that soon after just getting there. “I don’t think I should. I mean, I just moved here. Leaving would be difficult,” I said. “I’m not asking you to leave Beverly Hills permanently, Lauren,” he argued. “I just want you to attend the funeral and return. I know you don’t want to be there, especially after everything she did to you
I opened my eyes the next morning the most satisfied I had been in the past few days. There was a small smile on my face as I snuggled even deeper into Damien’s chest. It felt like leaving was something to not even be thought about. “Good morning,” he said, his voice startling me as he kissed me on the head. “Did you sleep good?” “I did,” I answered as I finally got the strength to sit up, getting a good view of him. Before I could say a word, there was a knock on my door. I got out of bed after a moment and opened the door to find Maria standing there with a Tupperware container in her hands and an apologetic smile on her face. “Can I come in?” She asked. At first, I considered shaking my head and telling her that it wasn’t the best time for her to come in, but I decided against it. I stepped aside for her to walk in, which she did. I took note of how she looked around in the living room as if trying to find something. “Why are you here this early, Maria?
My feet were glued to the ground, my mouth gaping open without much consciousness as I still tried to get more air in my lungs. I didn’t know whether it was Damien’s presence or the fact that I had finally stopped moving, but my lungs didn’t seem to be allowing much air. “I came as soon as I could,” he said, glancing at Melissa. “She didn’t want to let me in.” “Of course I didn’t let you in!” Melissa scoffed apologetically as she now helped me move forward. “You think I hand the keys to anyrandom man who walks in here and claims to know a tenant?” Without paying any more mind to her, Damien approached me and got me out of her arms. I had half a mind to collapse into his touch and break down, but I held myself upright as Melissa helped me open the door. “Are you going to be okay?” She asked me, still looking worried for me. “What even happened to you?” “Just a little run, I’m fine. As soon as I drink water, I’ll be fine. Thank you,” I said. She took
Damien hung up the phone without another word. I didn’t know what to do with that response or the lack of it. I fell into the couch and had to stop myself from crying. Had he finally gotten sick and tired of my constant back and forth with him? I didn’t even get the chance to tell him just how much I loved him. What was the point of doing it anyway? Nothing was going to get fixed that way. “Hey, are you okay?” Fred placed a gentle hand on my shoulder after a while of me sitting and staring at nothing. I jumped at the suddenness. “I said your food is ready. Let’s go.” We walked into the kitchen, where he had spread garlic bread and toast with sunny side up eggs. A pot of coffee was brewing on the counter as we both sat. Fred let me dig into the food, but I couldn’t shake off the effect that his long and hard stare had on me. “Is there something you want to talk about?” I engaged, letting him know I could tell that he was staring. “Oh, um.” He cleared
“Lauren?” I grunted, turning around and waking up as I heard my name. Fred shook me awake, and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was my phone in front of my face. “What is it?” I asked, sitting up on the couch where I had fallen asleep after arguing with Fred about where to sleep since he wanted me to take the bed for him to take the couch. “Your phone is ringing. I just walked by and saw it,” he said, handing me the phone. I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus on the screen of the phone and the caller ID when the phone stopped ringing. I looked up at Fred who has his arms crossed and was leaning against the door which led to the kitchen. “Aren’t you going to call who it is back? It could be an emergency, especially after what happened yesterday.” All of a sudden, I was reminded of the yesterday’s incident and what I had witnessed. A headache was brewing in my head now, and I grabbed the phone as tightly as I could. I wasn’t sure I was r