The next day, Lisa received a call from a strange number.
"Hello, who is this?" she asked.
"It's Kendrick," Lisa didn't need to ask further; she already recognized that devilish voice.
"What do you want? I already said no to you many times. Can you please just leave me alone?" she said angrily.
"Can you hear me out first?" Kendrick said in a cool voice.
"Okay, go ahead," she replied.
"I heard about your mom."
"So, what does that have to do with you?"
"Why can't you calm down first and let me finish?" he said angrily.
"Okay, go on. I want to know what you are going to say."
"Okay, I heard about what happened to your mom, and I want to help. I know what you are worried about, but it's not going to happen. Come to the Westlake clubhouse in Luna hotel. Come over there tonight and have a drink with me. I will give you the money with no conditions." The phone disconnected after that.
Lisa stood there, not knowing what to do. She knew it was a trap, but he already threw in an enticement, so what if it's a trap? At least she's doing something rather than just thinking every day with no solution. She braced herself and decided to give it a try. "I just need to be careful."
Luckily, they are to meet in the hotel's clubhouse. What could ever happen in such a place anyway? If he had asked her to come to a hotel room, maybe she wouldn't even consider it a second time and would quickly turn him down.
One hour before the agreed time, Lisa started getting nervous. After calming down a bit, she got dressed in a red gown. The gown wasn't too long or too short, and, above all, it wasn't very revealing. She purposely wore such an unrevealing gown to avoid problems.
She didn't apply much makeup before leaving. She held her purse tightly while flagging down a cab. The cab stopped in front of her, and she hurriedly hopped in.
"Luna hotel, please."
The cab driver looked at her suspiciously, but he didn't say anything and drove off. A few minutes later, the cab stopped in front of Luna hotel. She paid the cab driver and hurried to the hotel.
On reaching the hotel, she didn't know where the club was located, so she asked one of the hotel attendants, and she led her there.
She saw Mr. Kendrick sitting with a pot-bellied stomach. He looked forty and was bald, but he wasn't in any way ugly; in short, he looked way more handsome than most other men.
When he saw her, he gave her a very kind smile, like a doting father. Lisa forced a smile and walked towards him under the weird gaze of the attendant.
"You came?"
"Of course, you said you will help me?" she asked to confirm.
"Yes, and also I will not demand anything from you. I know that's what you are worried about, but trust me, I'm being sincere," he said smilingly.
"But why do you want to help me?" she asked, confused.
"Listen, I love you so much, even if you don't love me back. To me, your family members are also my family members, and your mom is also my mom," he replied.
She felt disgusted. This man was clearly older than her mom. He might look forty, but his age is clearly more than that, yet he had the audacity to say her mother is also his. "My mom can never give birth to an old baby like you," she thought inwardly.
Whatever his reason, it's better not to probe further; the main thing is that she received the money he promised.
"Now let's drink a toast to our newfound understanding," he offered smilingly as he opened the red wine on the table and poured two glasses, one for her and one for himself.
Lisa wasn't in the mood to drink, especially since she doesn't drink alcohol. But she didn't want to offend him, so she drank a glass full and refused to drink more.
Mr. Kendrick didn't persuade her; soon she started feeling dizzy and hot. She looked at her wine glass and seemed to have realized something.
"You...!" she was so angry.
Mr. Kendrick had a wicked smile on his face. "Do you really think I will give you almost a million dollars for no reason? You think too much of yourself. First, I will ravage you tonight, then after that, if you still want to help your mother, then you can become my mistress. Then, based on how much you perform, I will choose to help if you perform well enough. Haha!" he laughed maniacally.
"You are mad," she cursed. "You think the hotel management will allow you to act wantonly?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you see, all these people are well tipped off, so they won't say a thing. You don't have to worry too. I will take care of you very well."
Just as he was about to grab her, a deep masculine voice called out.
"Stop right there, don't you dare touch her."
Mr. Kendrick paused and wore an unpleasant expression, "Who are you and why do you want to interfere with my business?"
"None of your business, just leave the girl," he ordered.
Lisa looked up and saw it was the poor guy who eats at the restaurant where she worked. She felt touched; even though it wasn't his business, he stood up for her against Mr. Kendrick, who was very famous in this area of Pennsylvania as a ruthless man who is very unforgiving.
"Okay, I understand now," Mr. Kendrick nodded with a smile. He dug his hands in his pocket and brought out a wad of dollars. And handed it over to Williams.
"Here, this is ten thousand dollars. It is more than you can ever make in a month. Now take it and pretend you didn't see a thing." He thought that the man just wanted money. Even if he doesn't, nowadays everything could be handled with money.
The penthouse in the heart of Manhattan felt colder and emptier than it ever had. Williams O’Connell sat in his office, the city skyline stretching beyond the windows. The man who once commanded boardrooms and navigated billion-dollar deals now felt lost in his own life. Lisa’s absence gnawed at him. It had been two months since she left, and in that time, the world had lost its color. Her laughter, her resilience, and the way she challenged him had become the only things he truly valued. Now, they were gone. He poured himself a drink, though it was only midday, and stared at the photograph that had caused the rift between them. The picture of Lisa with another man—a photo that Morgan had so conveniently sent him—lay on his desk. He had stared at it for weeks, dissecting every detail, until the truth finally emerged. The man was Lisa’s cousin. The realization had struck him like a lightning bolt. The love of his life had been accused, mistrusted, and driven away because of his
The night was heavy with silence. Lisa lay on her side, staring at the darkened ceiling of her bedroom. Sleep refused to come, her mind replaying the confrontation with Williams over and over. His accusations had cut deeper than she’d expected, not because of the words themselves, but because of what they revealed: he didn’t trust her. By morning, her decision was made. She couldn’t stay. Not like this. Lisa spent the early hours packing her belongings into a single suitcase. She moved quietly, not wanting to alert anyone in the house. Her resolve faltered only once, as she folded a scarf Williams had bought her during one of their rare, carefree moments. For a brief second, she let herself remember the man he was before his doubts poisoned everything. But the sting of his mistrust was stronger than the memory of his kindness. When Williams woke up later that morning, he found Lisa’s room empty. Panic shot through him as he searched the house, but she was nowhere to be found. H
Lisa adjusted her chair in the spacious living room of the O’Connell estate, her sketchpad perched on her knees. The designs she worked on for her fashion class were coming together nicely, but she couldn’t shake the growing tension in the house. Despite her best efforts to be polite and gracious, the hostility from Williams’ mother, Stacy, and Morgan was relentless. Every cutting remark, every snide comment about her background, chipped away at her composure.Her pencil hesitated mid-stroke as the sound of footsteps echoed behind her. She turned to see Williams walking in, his expression unreadable. His silence lately had been unsettling, and the unspoken distance between them gnawed at her.“Is everything alright?” Lisa asked hesitantly, closing her sketchpad.Instead of answering, Williams pulled a small envelope from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table. His movements were deliberate, almost too calm, which made Lisa’s stomach churn.“What’s this?” she asked, leaning forwa
The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock. Williams sat in his study, the report from David lying open in front of him. The truth stared back at him, mocking him with its simplicity.Her cousin. The man in the photographs—the supposed evidence of Lisa’s betrayal—was her cousin, Jason Hart. A name, a history, even a picture of them together at family gatherings filled the file.Williams let out a heavy breath, his head sinking into his hands. How had he let it come to this?It wasn’t the evidence that haunted him the most, though. It was the memory of Lisa’s face the night she left. The pain in her eyes, the tremble in her voice, the way her words had hit him like a physical blow.“I thought we were building something real, Williams. But I can’t keep fighting alone.”He had replayed those words countless times over the past three months, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. He had destroyed the one thing he hadn’t even realized he couldn’t live without—her trust.
The relentless downpour outside mirrored the storm inside Lisa’s heart. Rain blurred the city skyline, streaking the towering windows of the penthouse as though mocking the tears she refused to shed. Lisa stared at her suitcase on the bed, her hands trembling as she folded the last item of clothing.This was it.Leaving had been a fleeting thought in the past—when the weight of their “fake” marriage had become too much or when Williams’s coldness pierced her heart. But each time, she had stayed, clinging to the hope that there was something real between them. That hope had shattered the moment he placed the photos on the table, his gaze hard and accusing.“Explain this,” he had demanded.The betrayal she’d seen in his eyes had cut deeper than the words themselves. She had tried to explain—how the man in the photos was her cousin, how their meeting had been innocent. But he hadn’t believed her. The seed of doubt Morgan had planted had grown into a twisted vine, choking the fragile conn
Chapter Eight Rachel's POVThe heavy feeling of Harry's confession remained in my mind, even after I had closed the door behind him. Somehow, I felt an emptiness within my stomach, as if he'd taken a piece of me with him. His honesty had come right out of the blue, after such a huge day. I had so many questions, yet had absolutely no idea where to begin in finding the answers.I wandered back into the darkened living room, skimming my fingers over an old photo frame on the mantle-my parents. Their faces, frozen in a faded smile, seemed a distant echo of a life I no longer knew. The ritual, Harry's words, the power…all so rapidly changing.Night wore on and my exhaustion tugged at me. I barely made it to my bedroom before collapsing onto the bed, my mind foggy with remnants of my day. The picture of the old man's wrinkled face, his warning cryptic, wouldn't leave my head: "To gain power, you must let go of something precious."What had I lost? Or worse-what was I going to lose?---I