Heather's hands trembled as she clutched the signed contract, a mixture of relief and unease flooding her. She had done it. Eamon Rodge's signature was now on the document, but his ominous promise still echoed in her mind.
She had to get back to Marcus and show him, prove to him that she was loyal and true.
Driving back to Marcus's house, Heather replayed the encounter in her mind. Eamon Rodge was not the elderly man she had imagined, but a young, dark figure with an unsettling presence.
His agreement to sign in exchange for a future favor had been unexpected, but she was willing to do whatever it took to save her relationship.
As she approached Marcus's house, she noticed another car parked in the driveway. A knot formed in her stomach. Marcus had mentioned nothing about having guests tonight.
Pushing down her anxiety, she parked and headed toward the door, her heart pounding louder with each step.
The house was eerily quiet as she entered, the faint sound of laughter and clinking glasses drifting from the living room.
Heather paused, her breath catching in her throat. She moved silently towards the noise, her footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor.
Peering into the living room, Heather's heart shattered. There, on the couch, was Marcus, his arms wrapped around a woman she recognized from a few of his social gatherings—Sherry.
They were laughing, their bodies close, and it was clear from their intimate proximity that this was no innocent interaction.
Heather's vision blurred with tears as she watched Marcus lean in and kiss Sherry, his hands roaming over her body without hesitation. The contract slipped from Heather's fingers, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
The faint sound caught Marcus's attention, and he looked up, his eyes widening in shock.
"Heather," Marcus stammered, pulling away from Sherry, but it was too late. The damage was done.
Heather took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. "How could you, Marcus?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hurt and anger. "After everything, after all we've been through..."
Marcus stood up, his face paling. "Heather, it's not what it looks like. I can explain."
Heather laughed bitterly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Not what it looks like? Really? Because it looks like you're cheating on me with her."
Sherry, looking uncomfortable, started to gather her things. "Maybe I should go," she muttered, avoiding Heather's gaze.
"Yes, maybe you should," Heather snapped, her voice gaining strength. "This is between me and Marcus."
Sherry left quickly, leaving the room tense and charged with emotion. Marcus stepped towards Heather, but she held up her hand, stopping him.
"I went to Eamon Rodge's house tonight," she began, her voice cold. "I got his signature. I did it for you, to prove my loyalty, to show you that I would do anything for us."
Marcus's eyes widened in surprise. "You were allowed to see Eamon Rodge?"
"Yes," Heather continued, her voice breaking. "And while I was doing that, while I was risking everything, you were here... with her."
"Heather, I—"
"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "There's nothing you can say that will make this right. You asked me to prove my loyalty, and I did. But you? You've proven that you never deserved it."
Marcus's face fell, realizing the gravity of his actions. "Heather, please. I made a mistake. I love you. We can work through this."
Heather looked at him, her heart breaking all over again. "Love? You don't know what love is, Marcus. If you did, you wouldn't have done this."
She bent down, picking up the contract and clutching it tightly. "Here. This is what you wanted, right? Well, you're not getting it."
With that, Heather turned and walked out of the house, the contract paper firmly in her grasp.
As she drove away, her tears falling freely now, Heather felt a strange sense of liberation mixed with the deep pain of betrayal. Perhaps, keeping the contract from him was her way of reclaiming her power.
Heather thought hard while she drove off where she'd go. She knew she couldn't go back to her shared apartment with Camille.
Camille had been a sweet, supportive friend who took her in when she had nowhere else to go, and Heather didn't want to burden her with this fresh heartbreak.
As she sat in her car, the night air cool against her tear-streaked face, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She paused at Mia's name.
Mia, Marcus's sister, was not only family but also a true friend. Heather hesitated for a moment, then pressed the call button. The phone rang twice before Mia picked up.
"Heather? Is everything okay?" Mia's voice was warm but tinged with concern.
Heather took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "Mia, I... I need somewhere to stay tonight. Can I come over?"
"Of course, Heather," Mia replied immediately. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"I'll explain when I get there," Heather said, her voice breaking slightly. "Thank you, Mia."
"Don't worry about it," Mia said gently. "Just get here safely. I'll be waiting for you."
Heather ended the call and took a deep breath, wiping away her tears. She started the car and drove towards Mia's house, each mile putting more distance between her and the betrayal she had just witnessed.
When she arrived at Mia's place, Mia was already standing outside, her arms crossed, worry etched across her face. As soon as Heather stepped out of the car, Mia rushed to her, enveloping her in a tight hug.
"Heather, what happened?" Mia asked softly, leading her inside.
Heather clung to Mia, the tears she had tried to hold back now flowing freely. "It's Marcus," she managed to choke out between sobs. "He... he was with someone else. While I was out trying to prove my loyalty to him, he was... with her."
Mia's expression darkened, but her eyes held a glint of something unreadable. "That bastard brother of mine," she muttered. "I always suspected he might do something stupid, but I never thought he'd hurt you like this."
Heather pulled away slightly, wiping her eyes. "I can't go back to Camille's right now. She's been so kind, and I don't want to worry her with all of this."
Mia nodded understandingly, though her mind was elsewhere.
"You can stay here as long as you need, but you know what? We should get out of here for a while. Let's go to the Ritz Hotel. It's a great place to unwind and get our minds off things for a bit."
Heather hesitated. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."
"You're not imposing," Mia insisted, a warm smile plastered on her face. "It'll be fun. Just what you need to get your mind off that jerk."
Despite her better judgment, Heather nodded. "Okay, let's go."
As they drove to the Ritz Hotel, Mia kept up a lively conversation, distracting Heather from her thoughts. But behind Mia's comforting words and friendly demeanor lay a seething resentment. Mia had always been jealous of Heather. She hated how her brother chose Heather over any of her own friends. Seeing Heather broken like this brought a twisted satisfaction that she hid well.At the hotel, Mia made sure they got a luxurious suite, treating Heather like a queen for the night. They ordered room service, sipped on champagne, and Mia did her best to keep Heather's spirits high.Heather, though still hurt, felt a bit of the tension easing away as they settled into the plush surroundings. "Thank you, Mia," she said, genuinely grateful. "I don't know what I would have done without you tonight."Mia smiled, a flicker of malice hidden behind her eyes. "That's what friends are for, Heather. I'll always be here for you."Heather, feeling slightly more relaxed but still emotionally drained,
Heather's eyes fluttered open, the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. Confusion clouded her mind as she tried to piece together the events of the previous night. The last thing she remembered was pouring her heart out to a stranger, the weight of her troubles heavy on her shoulders.As she sat up in bed, her gaze swept across the room, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Eamon sitting calmly in the armchair. Panic surged through her veins as she realized she was not alone."What are you doing here?" Heather demanded, her voice laced with anger and fear.Eamon regarded her coolly, his dark lenses masking his eyes. "I believe I have my freedom to be where I want," he replied calmly. "And the bed included."Heather's confusion turned to alarm when she realized that her clothes had been changed. "You! Did you... change my clothes?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger.Eamon's response was a curt and bold "Yes."Heather's
In the hospital entrance, the staff had gathered, buzzing with anticipation and excitement. They were all there to welcome Eamon Rodge, the enigmatic philanthropist whose donations had significantly improved the hospital's facilities.Unbeknownst to them, Eamon and his secretary had already entered the hospital through a side entrance, avoiding the fanfare.As they walked through the quiet corridors, Eamon's secretary, a tall, efficient man named Harris, spoke in low tones."The 12-year-old girl of the Blackwood's family with a hole in her heart is in critical condition," Harris said, glancing at the notes on his clipboard. "The heart in our possession totally matches. If the transplant is successful, it could save her life."Eamon nodded, his expression serious. "It would definitely be successful. The Blackwoods must be indebted to us and this procedure must go flawlessly."
Marcus paced back and forth across the living room, his jaw clenched and fists tightening with every step. Heather stood by the window, her eyes filled with tears and frustration. The silence between them was thick, nearly suffocating."How could you, Heather?" Marcus finally broke the silence, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. "How could you do this to me?""Marcus, please, you have to listen to me," Heather pleaded, her voice cracking. "I didn't cheat on you. I never would. That picture—""Don't even start with that!" Marcus interrupted, his eyes flashing. "You think I'm stupid? I saw the picture. You were hugging him, Heather. My best friend!"Heather took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I know how it looks, but it's not what you think. I swear, I don't know how that picture got out there. Yes, we hugged, but it wasn't like that. He was comforting me because I was upset about something else entirely.""Comforting you? Really? That's the best you've got
Heather's heart pounded as she approached the first gate of the secluded estate. The iron bars loomed ominously, and a shiver ran down her spine as the gate creaked open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through, the crunch of gravel under her feet echoing in the stillness of the night.She approached the second gate, her nerves on edge. A tall, imposing man stood there, his stern gaze fixed on her. Summoning her courage, she spoke."Good evening, sir. My name is Heather. I'm here to see Mr. Eamon Rodge."The man scrutinized her for a moment before nodding. "Follow me," he said, his voice gruff. As they walked through the gate, Heather's anxiety grew. She realized he wasn't Eamon Rodge but another gatekeeper.They reached the third and main gate of the mansion, which opened to reveal another imposing man. Her heart raced as she approached him, her steps faltering."Good evening, Mr. Eamon," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "I am Heather Daniels. I'm here to discuss an imp