Lauren's POV My legs trembled beneath me as I quickly pushed myself off the ground, the world going past me in a blur. Panic surged through me, hotter and faster than I could control. I lunged forward, grabbing Shirley by the arms. My heart raced, and my mind spun with terrifying thoughts as I remembered what became of the house in the countryside and the car that I was in with Damien. “Where is it!?” I demanded, my voice shaking as I frantically felt around her body, searching for the explosive that was ticking away and counting the last possible minutes, or even seconds, that we had. “Lauren, stop!” Shirley cried out, her hands shoving me away with force, surprisingly stronger than the first. I stumbled back, my heart hammering against my ribs, but I refused to let go. I couldn’t let her do this. “No! I’m not letting you do this!” I yelled, desperation clawing at my throat. I reached for her again, but she broke free and turned to run towards the wate
Lauren's POV The sound of Jameson’s voice on the other end of the line instead of Damien’s made me freeze in shock like a deer caught in headlights. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of fear and confusion racing through my mind. Questions toiled and tumbled in my head, but I managed to stammer out the first thing that came to mind. “W-what are you doing with Damien’s phone?” My voice trembled, letting him know just how panicked I was. Jameson laughed. It was a cold, mocking sound that brought goosebumps to my skin. “I can almost taste just how concerned you are. We’ll talk about Damien later, but I have to ask…why did you only shoot me in the leg? If you’d ended everything right then, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” His sick but true words hit me like a punch to the gut. If anything had happened to Damien, it would be nobody else’s fault but mine. I could only imagine the pain he was enduring, with his wounds still fresh and now this. My
Lauren's POV Tension grew with each step that Jameson took, the silence only cut off the sound of his footsteps as he approached. His eyes gleamed with malicious intent, locking onto Shirley as if she were his prey. My heart pounded in my chest in fear for her, the weight of what I had done pressing down on me. Shirley shot me another look of pure betrayal. As I reached out to hold her hand, to offer her some form of comfort, she recoiled as if my touch had scalded her. “Get away from me!” she hissed, her voice rising in anger. “You’re nothing but a traitor, Lauren. How could you do this to me? You saved me just to do this to me?” I flinched as if her words had physically struck me. Jameson was now in front of us, but before he could say a word, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoed through our ears, freezing us all in place. Jameson’s eyes narrowed, his head snapping towards the door. For a moment, none of us moved, the shock of the sound holding
Lauren's POV When I opened my eyes, I was stunned and taken aback by the bright, sterile whiteness of the hospital room. The beeping of the heart monitor beside me was a steady, rhythmic reminder that I was still alive. I blinked a few times, looking around and trying to clear the fog from my mind, and that’s when I saw him. Damien was sitting beside me, shirtless, with fresh bandages covering his wounds. Worry and exhaustion we’re etched on his face as his dark eyes watched me with an intensity that almost made me uncomfortable. Seeing him there brought back the tangle of emotions inside me that he made me feel all at once—relief, anger, and everything that came with them. “How are you feeling?” His voice was quiet, but the room was quieter save for the uniform beeps. “I don’t feel one hundred percent,” I admitted, my voice barely loud enough to be considered a whisper. “Everything hurts. My body feels so weak.” Damien nodded, his expression tur
Lauren's POV My breath caught in my throat, my mind reeling with confusion and terror as I looked at Damien. “What… what is this?” I stuttered, shaking my head in disbelief at the fact that a corpse had gone missing. “Where is she?” Damien remained silent, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. The world tilted beneath my feet, my legs threatening to give way as the horror of the situation sank in. My mother was gone. And someone had taken her. But I was not going to accept that things were that way. What could anybody possibly want with her now? It was more than enough. She had gone through enough. “This is ridiculous!” I scoffed aloud, turning around and taking steps away from the coffin to avoid the visual reminder of what was happening. “She can’t be missing. This doesn’t make any sense.” “I’ll make a call to the morgue and make enquiries. This has to be a mistake,” Damien assured me as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, not knowing
Lauren's POV It took a long moment of waiting before a large vehicle pulled up to the cemetery with the right coffin. The past few weeks had been a blur of police investigations, yelling at and confronting the possible suspects. All of that faded into the background of my mind as I finally stood in front of the coffin which was now open, exposing the woman who had both been through a lot and had put me through a lot as well. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to her as I stepped as close as the distance between me and the coffin would allow. Her being dead was a reality that I was still finding difficult to grasp. Even at that, I knew that this was goodbye and there was nothing I could do to escape it. I knelt beside the coffin and placed a small necklace that she had given to me as a child beside her. It was something that I outgrew but still took with me everywhere I could. “Say hello to Dad for me, okay?” I said. “I love you. Goodbye.” The men who ha
Lauren's POV When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I felt was the sharp, pounding ache in my head. The room was dim, the curtains only partially drawn, letting in slivers of sunlight that made me wince. I rolled over, expecting to find the bed empty, but there was a faint dent in the sheets beside me. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered. Damien. I groaned silently, hoping and praying that I had imagined him being here, that it was just a piece of my drunken delirium. The thought of him actually being here, of him hearing my embarrassing confession, made my stomach twist with dread. I forced myself to sit up, the pounding in my head intensifying with each movement. “Please, let it have been a dream,” I whispered. Deep down, I knew better. I could still feel the warmth of his hand, the weight of his presence beside me. And the words I had let slip in the haze of alcohol. “I love you.” The memory hit me. How co
Lauren's POV Conrad’s words stunned me into silence. Jameson, the man I had accused, the man I had believed to be involved was innocent? The thought of it left me reeling, my mind struggling to make sense of it all. “Why should I believe you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why should I believe anything you say? He’s your father. For all I know, he has brainwashed you into trusting him since you started to stay with him.” Conrad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to believe me, Lauren. But I’m telling you the truth. There’s more going on here than you realize, and if you want to find out who’s really responsible for your mother’s death, you’re going to have to dig deeper.” His words hung in the air between us, heavy with the weight of his seemingly empty words. I wanted to argue, to demand proof, but something in his eyes stopped me. This was bigger than I had ever imagined, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face i
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