20

Chapter 20

Brittany's Pov

Seven days. Seven long, frustrating days since I hired Jackson to dig into Adrian Martinez and the mysterious payment Darcy had sent to the prison. A full week, and still nothing. No news from him.

I sat at the white cushion in the living room staring at my phone for a very long time, hoping and praying that Jackson would at least call me.

Yet nothing happened. No calls, no emails, no text updates. Just silence and the silence was driving me insane.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Jackson was supposed to be the best—the man everyone whispered about in society circles, the expert capable of uncovering dirt on anyone and delivering results within days. I had paid him a fortune, stressed the urgency, and he had promised updates “in no time.”

"So where is he?"

I paced the penthouse, the sharp click of my Louboutins tapping on the marble, its sounds worsened my irritation. It was a bright morning and the sunlight slid through the windows, but it brought no comfort to my worries.

All I could think was another wasted day, getting closer to the date fixed for the meeting, where our parents would officially discuss the merger and inform Darcy of our future together.

Another day for that nanny nobody to get closer to what was rightfully mine.

—

My whiskey was on the side table, I had taken the third glass this afternoon. I sipped it, letting the burn calm my frustration. It didn’t help. Seeing Adrian in that photo with Darcy and Pink, smiling like she belonged, made my blood boil.

“If you can’t deliver, Jackson, what good are you?” I muttered to the empty room. “All that reputation, all those whispers, and you can’t even provide basic intel in a week?”

The worst part was the uncertainty. I didn’t know what made Darcy pay that amount of money to that prison, and I can’t figure out my next move while relying on someone as useless as him.

I should have done this job myself. Yes, that saying, "If you want to get things done, do it yourself." I shouldn't have involved his incompetent ass for this job.

The footsteps on the stairs pulled me from my thoughts. My mother appeared, beautiful in her cream Chanel suit, her expression already poised with disapproval.

“Brittany, darling,” she said, the word of endearment turning sharp. “What’s wrong? You don’t look happy.”

I bit back a retort. Naturally, I wasn’t happy. My whole future was teetering while I waited on an incompetent investigator and faced the threat of some ex-con woman stealing my life. But I couldn’t tell her my secret.

“I’m fine, Mother,” I said, sipping the glass of whiskey.

“Is this how you plan to drink and care for Pink after your marriage to Darcy?” She stepped closer, her gaze sharp on my glass. “You need to stop this habit, Brittany. It’s unbecoming.”

Her words triggered a pang of guilt but I couldn’t ponder on it. Pink was meant to be my connection to Darcy, my chance at redemption after the abortion and infidelity had shattered us years ago. Instead, she was bonding with Adrian, her nanny. That wench!

The irony was almost laughable if it weren’t so dangerous.

“When are you and Dad meeting with Darcy?” I asked, ignoring her lecture. I needed strategy, not judgment.

Mother perched on the white leather sofa, perfect posture as usual. “End of the month. Darcy’s schedule will allow it after his current project but before the merger talks officially begin.”

Four weeks. That should have been comforting—a date to aim for. Instead, it felt like eternity. Each day would let Adrian grow closer to Darcy, cementing her influence. A month was far too long.

“It better happen quickly,” I muttered, finishing my bourbon.

Mother gave me a soft look of patience, unaware of my internal turmoil. “A month is reasonable. These things take planning. Your father and Richard need to align schedules. Darcy’s calendar isn’t simple to manage.”

“I know,” I said shortly, already plotting. “I just want it resolved.”

What I didn’t say: I needed it resolved before Adrian became untouchable. Before the bond between her and Darcy became unshakable. Before Pink became more than a tool to reclaim my life.

Mother rose, straightening the wrinkles on her suit. “Patience, Brittany. Good things come to those who wait.”

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one watching a prison-born child slip away under someone else’s influence. She wasn’t the one grappling with the reality that Darcy could be swayed by a woman with a past. She wasn’t the one wearing my shoes so she didn't know where it pains.

Once she left, I stood by the window, looking out over the city. I had everything I wanted— perfect hair, makeup, designer clothes—a picture of wealth, beauty, and success but none of it made sense to the public if Darcy’s attention remained on someone else.

My phone lay silent. I snatched it up, dialing Jackson. One ring… two rings… voicemail.

“You’ve reached Jackson. Leave a message.”

I hung up without speaking. After all I’d paid him, after stressing urgency, now he wouldn’t even answer?

“Useless,” I spat, throwing the phone onto the couch. “Completely useless.”

The frustration boiled inside me. My strategy depended on accurate information. Without it, I was blind, forced to rely on suspicion and instinct. If Jackson couldn’t handle it, I would.

That’s when the decision hit me. I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t rely on anyone else. If I wanted Darcy, I need to be present in his life for him to notice me.

---

The next morning, I woke with a new resolution, new purpose.No more waiting. No more dependence.

Every passing day let Adrian solidify her place with Darcy. I needed to remind him why we belonged together, why the merger wasn’t just financial, but personal.

I want to owe his thoughts. To be the last thing he thinks of before he sleeps, not some stripper with a bloody past.

Standing before my closet, I scanned the variety of fashion wears I had. I need a look that would remind Darcy of all he’d been missing, one that conveyed sophistication, allure, sexy body and power.

I chose a deep crimson dress, pale skin glowing against the fabric, curves shown without excess. The neckline was daring but tasteful, the dress was well designed and it's above the knee. Custom-tailored perfection.

The black shoes added just the perfect height, a diamond necklace to match the clothes. The light makeup was flawless— lips matching the dress, contouring sharp enough to impress even the hardest critics.

Looking in the mirror, I whispered to myself, “Better to do it yourself than rely on useless men. Let’s see that little nobody, compete with this.”

The drive to Darcy’s office was long, traffic slow. I rehearsed my approach—charming but confident, sweet but subtly reminding him of our shared past. I couldn’t be too forceful, or he’d push back. I also couldn’t be distant, or he’d dismiss me again. I had to strike a balance that reminded him why I belonged in his life.

Rodrigo Industries towered above the city, all glass and steel, a monument to power and wealth. I had been here before, welcomed into Darcy’s world when our families were intertwined and he had been mine. I intended to reclaim that access.

When I got to the lobby, It was exactly as I remembered: the contemporary art that also caught my attention then a smiling receptionist at the desk.

“Good afternoon. Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

I smiled, the kind of smile that said I belonged. “Ms Brittany, here to see Darcy Rodrigo. He’ll want to see me.”

Her smile faltered slightly, she recognized the name from society pages or gossip. “One moment, please.”

She picked up the phone, whispering, and I waited, heart pounding but I chose to keep calm. What if he refused? What if he treated me like an intruder?

No. He couldn’t. Our families were intertwined, the engagement announcement looming. Darcy couldn’t turn me away without causing complications.

“Ms. Brittany?”

Mark, Darcy’s assistant, appeared, professional as ever, polite but distant. “Mr. Rodrigo has a few minutes between meetings. Please follow me.”

“Mark, always a pleasure,” I said with a smile, radiating confidence. “I hope I’m not interrupting his meeting?.”

The elevator moves up in calculated precision. I used the reflective doors to check my appearance one last time—perfect.

Every detail, from hair to heels, show off a sophisticated woman with power. I'll show him what he has been missing.

Mark led me through the executive floors—glass walls, steel accents, modern art—evidence of Darcy’s empire. His office lay at the end of the hall, imposing double doors, expensive and untouchable.

“Please wait here,” Mark instructed, knocking and entering. I remained poised, heart racing beneath the exterior calm. This was the time to remind Darcy of our history, our chemistry and the future we were destined to share.

The door opened, and Mark gestured for me to enter. “Mr. Rodrigo will see you now.”

Head high, confidence unwavering, I stepped inside. Every inch of me radiated control, power, and allure. If Adrian Martinez thought she could compete, she was about to learn the world didn’t bend for her and I intended to prove it.