Chapter 6: Decisions

Willow's Pov

I had a hard time believing what I was seeing and hearing. I coughed, the sound echoing in the room, and it alerted them both to my presence.

Logan's eyes opened, but there was no terror in them. Instead, I saw a flicker of annoyance, as if I had interrupted their sex.

Beatrice turned her head, her eyes widening as she saw me. She quickly grabbed the sheet, pulling it up to cover herself, her face turning pale.

Logan sat up and frowned at me.

"Finally came home, I see?" he asked, his tone derisive. "Nice dress," he added, his smile mocking.

A wave of dizziness washed over me as I realized how naïve my efforts had been. I'd truly believed that Logan and I still stood a chance, that he'd take one look at me in my sexy designer dress and…

I'd been such a fool, I could barely stomach it.

"You said you were just friends," I told Logan, both my voice and my hands trembling. "You lied. You betrayed me."

Logan ran his hands through his hair, then reached out for the bedstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a pack of smokes. Then he stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

"Since when do you smoke?" I asked, appalled at the cigarette that dangled from his mouth.

I felt like I was coming undone. This was all too much. Beatrice sat beside Logan in the bed, holding the sheet up over her chest.

Logan took a long, slow drag.

"Don't look so shocked," he said, smoke pluming from his mouth. "It's just sex." His tone was cold as ice. "It's not like you and I were having any sex. Why would I want to? With the way you look these days?" He waved his hand dismissively in the air.

I didn't have a response. I was too shocked. So instead, I marched over to my closet and pulled out my suitcase.

"What are you doing, Willow?" Logan asked.

"I'm leaving," I told him, my back turned. I began pulling clothes off the hangers and tossing them, haphazardly into my suitcase.

I couldn't stay here another minute.

Beatrice came around beside me then and bent down to pick up her panties. I tried to ignore her as I kept packing.

"Your wardrobe is pathetic," she sneered. "You don't have one decent outfit in there. Where do you get your clothes? A thrift store. I guess you don't need any nice clothes. Since you have no career."

I turned to Beatrice, my face flushed with anger.

"The only reason you have a career is because my father gave you one," I snapped at her, my fists clenched at my side. "He gave you his entire company. He didn't earn it. You did nothing to deserve it. So don't sit there, all high and mighty, acting like you're better than me."

The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Beatrice raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips.

"Jealous?" she asked. "Because Daddy loves me more than you?"

I wanted to slap her right across the face for those words. But I was so emotional, and I felt like I was going to break at any moment.

So instead, I zipped up my suitcase and started hauling it towards the door.

"That's enough," Logan snapped at Beatrice. "Willow, just take a moment. Calm down. You're being impulsive."

"Impulsive?" I balked, locking eyes with Logan. He had one arm draped across the headboard, the other hand held the burning cigarette.

I scoured his face for any sign of remorse or guilt.

I'd just caught him cheating on me with my half-sister!

But the only expression on his face was indignation.

"We're done," I said, my voice low. "I'm leaving. You can have custody of Leo."

I stepped out of the bedroom, but as I walked down the hallway, I heard Logan scoff.

"She'll be back sooner or later. She's just being dramatic. This is all just a ploy for attention."

His curt words infuriated me, but I took a deep, steadying breath.

I didn't deserve this.

My suitcase was heavy, and it bumped on each step as I dragged it down the stairwell. The afternoon sun was bright when I opened the front door, causing me to squint.

The fabric of my new designer dress strained across my ribs with each deep breath, as my heart raced.

Whipping out my phone, I opened my banking app and checked my savings.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

I could start a new business, a perfume company.

Glancing up at the house, I saw Beatrice standing at the bedroom window, peering at me through the curtains.

Our eyes met for a moment. We glared at each other. Then I turned and started down the driveway.

Yes.

I would start my own company. A successful company. A perfume studio to compete with Beatrice's.

No. Scratch that.

Not to 'compete'.

To take her down.

My father had given Beatrice his perfume company. But I would create a company so successful, so powerful…

…that it would run Beatrice's company into the ground.

That was the vow I made to myself as I walked away from the house that had been my home for so many years.

My marriage had been a cage.

And now…

I was officially free.