I sit on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding as I wait for Ric's response. For a moment, I believe he won't answer, that the silence will stretch on forever. I sigh and get off the bed, feeling a mix of disappointment and resignation. But just as I stand up, Ric's voice breaks through the silence, his tone heavy with confession.“I was a hitman, Natalie.”The words hit me like a blow. My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze, my mind racing to process what he’s just said. Slowly, I turn to face him, my voice barely steady. “A hitman?” I repeat, the word foreign on my tongue.His jaw tightens, and he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Yes," he says quietly. “My family... they are associated with the Italian mafia. My father, especially. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I couldn’t stomach it. I wanted to run—to escape that life. And I did... for a while.”I search his face, trying to grasp the gravity of what he’s saying. There’s no trace of bravado o
My ears are ringing, and my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. It can’t be true. Maisie, the woman I trusted, the woman who reminded me of my mother with her gentle smiles and quiet appearance, helped him? Betrayal slices through me like a knife.“I didn’t know,” she continues, her voice breaking into sobs. “I didn’t know what it was truly meant for!”I grab her arm and yank her sharply to her feet, hissing, “What do you mean?” My voice is a razor, cutting through the air, cutting through her lies.She flinches, her face twisting further in guilt and agony. “Sir told me to mix the powder with your food. I-I had no clue… I didn’t know it was going to—”“How stupid were you to listen to him blindly?” I slash at her. “How could you be so naive?”She wheezes, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “He said it was to improve your health,” she says, but I catch her on that lie. Her eyes dart away, unable to meet mine.I shake her by holding her shoulders tigh
I swallow hard, my mind racing with doubts. But I have to remember that Anya has my best interests at heart. I nod, but I don't say a word in agreement.When we arrive at the premiere, the red carpet is already buzzing with activity. Cameras flash, and reporters call out questions, eager to get a glimpse of us. I exhale, slipping on my mask—the darling of Hollywood, but with a smeared reputation.“It’ll end before you know it,” Meera whispers, edging closer to my side.“Actually,” I begin with a smile I hope can convince her. “I’m excited about tonight. I will revel.”Meera pauses before her lips widen into a full-blown grin. “That’s the Natalie Jones they love!”“That’s the Natalie they love,” I correct. She raises a brow. “Oh yes, Meera. I’m dropping my last name after all.”I step out of the car, my gown instantly shimmering under the bright lights. The crowd erupts in cheers, and I wave, forcing myself to appear radiant despite the nerves churning in my stomach. I pose for photos,
The after-party is in full swing, the air buzzing with the energy of a successful premiere. I'm seated at a table with people including Meera, Chris, Hugo, and Aura. The venue echoes the clinking of glasses, laughter, and excited conversations. I watch as Anya walks towards me, excusing herself from a group of executives before leaning in, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “The premiere went incredibly well,” she whispers, a smirk on her otherwise sharp face. “The press is already raving about the film, and your appearance with Chris was the cherry on top.”Chris lifts his glass of champagne, a genuine smile on his face. “To Hugo, Aura, and Natalie,” he says, his voice carrying over the noise. “May 'Choose Me, Choose You' be the success it deserves to be.”I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. There’s a lot of hard work that was put into the movie so of course we all want it to be successful. I would agree that the premiere has been great, if I could erase the memory of tha
The first thing that slams into me as I claw my way out of unconsciousness is the sharp, chemical stink of a hospital. My brain feels like it’s been dragged through mud, incapable of forming coherent thoughts. My memories are foggy. I have no clue how long I’ve been here or what the hell happened. My breaths come out shallow, weak, and when my hand shakily grazes my head, I hit the edge of a thick bandage. The ache beneath it isn’t sharp—it’s this deep, gnawing throb, like my body knows something my mind can’t piece together. Time stretches and collapses, seconds bleeding into hours, or maybe days—I can’t tell. Then, I hear Meera’s faint voice cutting through the haze. “Natalie,” she calls, and my eyelids drag open. Her gasp hits my ears, her face crumpling as tears spill over. “You’re okay,” she whispers, her voice trembling with relief. I try to respond, to say something, anything, but my throat feels like sandpaper. My lips crack as I part them, but no sound comes out. Behind
“Your father, Elliot Jones, killed Neil.”I wait for him to smirk, to laugh. To tell me this is just another lie he’s woven up to throw me off track. To distract me from the bad he has done to me. But Mike doesn’t falter. I shouldn’t believe it, but somehow it makes sense. I don’t understand why or how, but it feels like he’s given me the last missing piece of the puzzle, and now I have the full picture. The room spins, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. My throat tightens as my mind flashes images of Neil, my brother—memories with him. His laughter, his caring nature, his ability to turn brutal if anyone tries to hurt me. Neil’s death has always been a mystery, a painful wound that never healed. And now, Mike is telling me that my own father is responsible?"You’re lying," I whisper despite knowing deep in my bones that it is true.Mike shrugs, a cruel smile on his face. “He fell off a building, huh? Tell me how stupid that sounds. I was there, Nat. The ground was perfectly firm
In the hushed stillness of Meera’s apartment, the only sound breaking the silence is the distant hum of traffic outside. Ric's arms are wrapped around me, his warmth seeping into my skin like a lifeline, keeping me alive. His thumb traces slow, gentle circles on my cheek, a rhythm that's become a familiar comfort. It's been three long weeks since the attack—three weeks since my world shattered, leaving me to pick up the pieces and try to make sense of what's left.Every night here has been a battle against nightmares that claw their way into my dreams. But every time I wake up, gasping and terrified, Ric is there. His arms are always ready, pulling me close in a protective embrace that feels like a shield against the darkness. He whispers reassurances, reminding me that the attacker is gone, locked away where he can't hurt me anymore. It's a mantra that helps me find my way back to a fragile sense of safety, even if it's just for a moment.The IV drip is gone now, but the wound on my
I sit cross-legged on Meera’s couch, the plush fabric soft under my fingers as I try to form the words. She’s scrolling through her phone, barely glancing up, but I know she senses my unease. Finally, I take a deep breath and let it out in a rush.“Ric wants to take me to the lakehouse.”Meera’s fingers pause mid-scroll. Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing with curiosity and concern. “What?”“Just for a break. To get away,” I explain quickly, watching her expression shift through a spectrum of emotions. “I want to go… to clear my head.”“Clear your head?” she repeats, setting her phone down and leaning forward. “Nat, I get it. You’ve been through hell. But are you sure this is a good idea? Being alone with him that far away?”Her words prick at me. But I know she’s just worried—she’s not so forgiving of his past. “I need this, Meera. I need space. Air. Something other than these walls.”Meera softens slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re right. You do. But I…” She hesita
[Two years later]My body is slick with sweat, every nerve ending alive and tingling as Ric’s hands explore my skin. His touch still feels new, still ignites a thirst in me that has no desire to quench anytime soon. His lips trail down my neck, making me heave, making me almost lose my mind. I arch into him, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back, urging him closer. His hands roam over my body, tracing the curves of my hips, the softness of my thighs, and the sensitive spots that make me gasp with pleasure. He knows exactly how to touch me—he has mastered the art of how to make me feel alive and desired every breathing moment. His fingers find their way between my legs, teasing and stroking until I'm writhing beneath him, desperate for more.“Fuck, Ric. I love you,” I breathe, squealing. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”“You're so beautiful,” he murmurs against my wet folds before his lips capture mine in kiss so deep, I can’t tell where he ends and where I begin. He s
“Elliot Jones’ Empire Crumbles: A Closer Look at the Allegations.”“The Hidden Crimes of a Business Titan: Elliot Jones Exposed.”“Mogul Under Fire? The Double Life of Elliot Jones Revealed.”“The High Price of Power: Here’s Everything You Need to Know About Elliot Jones and His Web of Deceit.”“The Case That Shook the Nation: Elliot Jones’ Alleged Crimes.”Seeing my father stand there, looking helpless, his face tight and red with anger satisfies me in a way nothing else could. Today is the day he falls, and now, he can see it with his own eyes—his empire crumbling. The delusion is gone. Mike’s voice echoes through the courtroom. “I was threatened,” he says, eyes darting nervously toward Elliot. “I kept silent because I feared for my life.”I sit beside Ric in the rows reserved for the trial attendees, my heart pounding. Ric leans in, his voice low and teasing, “I can’t believe this is happening. How did you manage to pull that off?”I give him a sly smile, keeping my eyes on Mike.
Getting into Mike's office is surprisingly easy. I thought it would be the most difficult task of all, but now, standing here, I realize just how wrong I was. Maybe it’s because I made it happen—my own actions leading to the lack of staff and security. With investors pulling out, his new business flopping instantly, and even his car gone, I wonder just how deep in debt Mike really is.I look around the office, taking in the bare walls and the lack of personal touches. It’s a cold place. It gives me a sense of satisfaction, knowing how little work must happen here. The only thing I find remotely appealing is the fireplace—if you can even call it that. It’s more of a decorative piece than anything else.The door creaks open, and Mike steps in, freezing as his hand remains on the doorknob. His eyes widen when he sees me, and I can almost hear the gears turning in his head.“Relax,” I say softly. “No need to be on alert. I have a proposition for you.”He doesn't move, his eyes darting aro
“High-Stakes Drama: Friend and Business Partner Richard Steward Fires on Business Mogul Elliot Jones in Shocking Miami Lakehouse Incident.”“Ric Steward Shoots Elliot Jones to Protect Alleged Lover, and Jones’ Daughter in Lakehouse Scandal.”“Business Partnership Ends in Gunfire: Ric Steward Wounds Elliot Jones.”“It Gets Very Real and Gruesome: Hear what’s new in the Natalie Jones’ Drama.”“Where does Michael Cooper stand amidst all this? New updated in the chaotic life of Natalie Jones. Here’s everything you missed that shook Hollywood this Spring!”The weeks that follow are difficult. And lonely. I’m thrust into a routine where I spend most of my time surrounded by lawyers, and legal jargons. It’s a lot at once, and I think I underestimated how quickly it would consume me. And with only Meera by my side who is still recovering from the traumatic event that occurred at the lakehouse, I find myself sitting in therapy sessions after experiencing several panic attacks. My days are sp
The rain-soaked air clings to my skin as the police car disappears down the road, taking Ric with it. My heart feels like it's been wrenched from my chest, leaving an empty, aching void. I can barely breathe as the reality of what just happened crashes down on me.We can’t stay here. The lakehouse is now a crime scene, and the officers made it clear we need to leave. The words still echo in my head: “This area is now under investigation. You’ll need to find somewhere else to stay.”Meera stands beside me, her face pale, clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline. Matt paces back and forth, still carrying the guilt on his face. I don’t think any of us had the slightest hint of something like this going down on a trip that was supposed to heal us. If anything, it has traumatised all of us beyond repair. But, the truth is out. Dad killed Neil. And he was so close to killing me and Ric…“We need to find a place,” I croak. Even if we could stay here, I wouldn’t, not with the memories of wh
Another gunshot goes off, a millisecond later. My eyes fly open, but there’s no sensation of pain anywhere in my body. Instead, Dad crumples to the ground with a cry of pain. Panic envelopes me, muddling my mind. I can barely understand what’s going on around me. “Natalie, are you okay?” someone seems to ask, but my gaze is fixed on Dad, watching him struggle as he clutches his leg that is now bleeding with the gunshot. Then that someone shakes me by the shoulders, drawing me back to reality. It’s Meera. “Nat, please say something!” she urges, tears streaming down her cheeks. “W-What happened?” I blurt out, sounding hysterical, my chest heaving dangerously. Meera points out at the door. Matt stands there with a gun in his hand. When his eyes meet mine, his hand drops, and he falls to his knees, breathing hard. Shaking my head, I yell, “What the fuck just happened?” Meera seems to still be in her senses. She kicks the gun out of Dad’s reach. He continues to squirm, his blood st
I don’t know if I ever thought of the words I’d say to him when I saw him again after what Mike told me. But watching him stand there right now, looking smug, I know that no words will ever justify the pure rage I feel. There’s an overwhelming need to hurt him. Badly. A throbbing pain in my hand pulls me from my rage. As I unclench my fist, I see the bloody marks my nails have left in my palm.“What are you doing here, Natalie? Why come to the lake house?” Dad asks in a calm voice that has a dangerous edge to it. I feign innocence. “Why, Dad? Can’t I come take a vacation here? Considering I had a man try to nearly kill me, after I've been subject to public humiliation by my cheater husband who you’ve always welcomed with open arms?” Pausing, I draw in a breath, afraid that the anger I feel will crush my lungs. “I should be the one asking that question. Why are you here? You never cared to visit when Mom brought Neil and me here. Why come now? And why do you have my phone?”He shakes
The search of Neil’s room leaves us both drained and disheartened. I scrutinize every nook and cranny, explore every possible hiding spot. The floorboards groan under our weight as I lift the mattress, revealing nothing but dust and a few forgotten coins. Beneath the bed, there’s only a stray sock and a cobweb. The closet holds nothing but old clothes and a pair of worn-out shoes. Even the old dresser, heavy and reluctant, is moved away from the wall, revealing nothing more than a few dust bunnies and a forgotten book.We find nothing out of the ordinary—no hidden notes or mysterious objects. The futility and exhaustion overwhelm me. I glance at Ric and see disappointment etched on his face, a mirror of my own feelings. The room is a mess. Neil’s old clothes are strewn about, furniture askew, and the air thick with dust.I slump onto the edge of the bed, raking my fingers through my hair in frustration. The coolness of the room does little to soothe the heat of my irritation. “There ha
“What are you saying, Chris?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.He sighs, shaking his head. When he speaks again, his voice is low, almost embarrassed. “I should’ve known.”I press him further. “When did they say that?”“When Anya came to me with the fake dating idea,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “She said it was… but that was a lie too. You never wanted this.”“What exactly did she tell you?” I ask, my heart pounding.He exhales sharply. “That you liked me but were too shy to act on it. And Meera, it was her who asked me to show up at your penthouse that night—before you left for the lakehouse.”I feel the ground shift beneath me. “Chris, I didn’t know they said that,” I mumble, the weight of his words sinking in.He shakes his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. “I can’t believe this. I thought I knew what was going on, but now…”The sting of his disappointment cuts deep. “I’m sorry, Chris. I never wanted to hurt you.”There’s a long pause before he finally