I’m Done Waiting, Mr. Jamison

William's father, Brent Jamison, gave a short laugh on the other end of the call, his voice thick with mockery. "If Liam found out that he held out for three whole months in that cellar without giving in, while you lasted only three days before you broke… Stephanie, tell me. What do you think he would say?"

I did not answer. I opened the calendar on my phone and looked at the date I had been marking off, one day at a time.

"When are you sending me away?"

Perhaps I sounded too calm. The line fell silent for a second.

A moment later, he spoke again, his voice low and heavy. "Seven days. A new identity and visa take time. It cannot happen that fast."

As if he still did not trust me, he added, "Stephanie, do not try to play games with me. If you lose your nerve at the last minute and refuse to leave, you will not survive the consequences."

I hung up. The screen went black. I lowered my gaze to my wrist.

The bruises were still there, dark and ugly from the ropes in the cellar. They circled my skin in swollen bands. They looked pathetic.

"Ridiculous. Playing games?" I muttered. I did not even want to see William Jamison's face anymore.

I had barely eaten for three days, so by the time I made it back to the villa, I had to brace myself against the wall to stay upright.

The butler approached the moment I stepped inside. His gaze swept over me, and he frowned. "You came back that quickly? Good timing. Madam wants a rose bath. Go cut some fresh roses from the garden."

A wave of resentment hit me so hard it turned my stomach. Then I remembered that in seven days, all of this would be over. I forced it down and nodded.

At that moment, a familiar voice cut through the room. "Stop."

William looked at me once, his gaze cold and sharp. His eyes felt colder than the cellar air. He turned to the butler. "From today on, she does not go near Madam or the child again."

The butler froze. "But the house already has enough staff, and there is nowhere else to assign her for now—"

William cut him off impatiently, "Then give her whatever chores you want. Just keep her away from Vira and the baby."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. It felt as though someone had driven a knife deep into my chest. Pain surged behind my ribs. I held it back and forced the tears to stay in place.

William must have noticed something in my expression, because he lifted a hand and dismissed the butler.

Once the man left, William stepped closer. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped. "Are you still mad at me?"

I stepped back and avoided the hand he reached out.

His movement stalled. His brows drew together. "Stephanie, do you understand how big a mess yesterday became?

"Father was ready to send you straight to prison. If I had not stopped him the entire time, do you think you would still be standing here?"

As he spoke, he grabbed my wrist. Pain shot up my arm, and I jerked back on instinct. That was when he saw the ring of bruises. Something in his eyes darkened. "Stephy, if you had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened. I will have a doctor come by later. It will not scar."

I yanked my hand free. My voice shook. "William, I am saying this one last time. It was not me. No matter how much I loved you, I would never hurt a baby who had just turned one month old."

He stiffened. He had not expected that kind of reaction from me.

In the past, even when I caught him sleeping with Elvira Wyndham, I had done nothing more than stand there with red eyes and endure it. I had never shouted or lost control.

He glanced at his empty hand and fell silent for a few seconds. In the end, he let out a low sigh. "Just behave yourself from here on. That is the only way I can leave the family sooner and be with you sooner."

Everything he said pointed to the future. But I heard only one thing. He still believed I had caused the baby's allergic shock.

All at once, I no longer had the strength to explain.

Just then, the butler hurried back. "Mr. Jamison, Madam heard Miss Carter was out. She says she wants to see her."

"Get the car ready."

"I am not going."

We spoke at almost the same time.

William's expression darkened. "Stephanie, do not push your luck. I already promised Vira that once you were released, you would apologize to her in person. That is the only way this ends. If she had not agreed to let it go, do you think Father would have let you off that easily?"

Before I could respond, he had already opened the car door for me.

I looked at the certainty in his face and curled my lips into a thin, mocking smile. Then I got in.

There had been a time when we could talk ourselves hoarse in a car. On the way to the hospital, neither of us spoke.

…

When we arrived, William moved out of habit to open my door.

I did not wait. I got out and walked off on my own.

He followed. Just before we entered, he caught my wrist again and spoke in a low voice. "Be sincere. Do not upset her."

I peeled his fingers off one by one and walked inside, my expression dark.

Inside the room, Elvira leaned over the baby's bed. Tear tracks still marked her face.

The moment she saw me, she jolted awake and pulled her son close, shielding him on instinct.

A flicker of pain crossed William's eyes. He stepped forward and patted her shoulder. "It is all right. I am here. She will not hurt the baby."

Only then did Elvira begin to relax. She gave a slow nod, but her hand remained clenched in his shirt.

I stood at the door and watched them in silence. Then my gaze dropped to the ring on her hand, and I froze.

I rushed forward and grabbed her wrist. "Why are you wearing the ring I designed?"

Elvira cried out in pain.

Before I could react, William shoved me away, and I staggered backward into the medical cart beside me. Bottles and trays crashed to the floor. Glass shattered, and sharp fragments cut into my skin.

"Stephanie!" William stood in front of Elvira, shielding her. His voice was terrifyingly cold. "Are you done? I brought you here to apologize, not to throw a tantrum."

"A tantrum?" My eyes burned red. "I spent a whole month drawing that design. You promised me that it would be a ring only the two of us would ever wear. And now it is on her hand. And you call this a tantrum?"

I braced myself against the wall and pushed myself upright. Blood ran from my palm and left a red streak across the white surface.

William did not look at it. His eyes remained fixed on Elvira's wrist, though there was not a mark on it. "Vira is a young woman from a good family. She's been with me for years without a title. I gave her a ring as compensation. Is that so outrageous?"

Everything I wanted to say lodged in my throat.

Elvira might not have had the title, but everyone in the Jamison family had treated her like Mrs. Jamison for years. She had a son and a daughter at her side. No one had ever dared look down on her.

And me? Because of one quiet "just wait" from William, I had spent three full years as nothing more than the Jamison family's housekeeper.

No one believed he would ever take me away, so no one had ever taken me seriously. I had thought he was different. In the end, he was the one who cut me deepest.

I said nothing more. I turned and walked toward the door.

Then Elvira's soft, trembling voice rose behind me. "Liam, did you not say she came today to apologize to me?"

William started to answer.

I turned before he could. I looked at Elvira, then slowly bent at the waist. My voice came out so light it barely sounded real. "I am sorry. I forgot my place and offended you, Mrs. Jamison."