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Chapter 44

Author: Maryann Brown
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-04 07:26:43
The solarium was massive—vaulted glass ceilings, glass walls, sunlight pouring in like it had somewhere to be. Marcus stood at the center of it all, shirtless, barefoot, and bathed in gold. He looked like some tragic painting: ancient myth meets tabloid royalty. A bottle of bourbon rested near his feet, already a quarter empty. Again, like the first time we met, he was shirtless and drunk. Also again, I couldn’t seem to look away.

“What’s the occasion?” I asked, gesturing toward the bourbon with a tilt of my chin.

Marcus didn’t answer right away. He stared upward, swaying slightly, the muscles in his back tight with whatever storm was brewing in him.

“Theodore. Arthur. Frederick. Wilder.” He rattled off the names like a prayer. Or a curse.

I recognized them immediately. “Middle names,” I said, treading carefully. I swallowed hard. “They’re all surnames, your father’s?”

Marcus let out a humorless laugh, bitter and hoarse. “Debra doesn’t talk about our fathers. Not a word. As far as
Maryann Brown

Dear reader, Just when you think you’ve cracked the Lachlan puzzle 🧩, another secret slips through the cracks. In this chapter, buried names surface 📜, hidden passageways creak open 🚪, and loyalties blur beneath golden ceilings and bathtub confessions 🛁. But trust me—what you’ve seen so far is only the beginning. Every heir has a story, every scar has a source, and every locked door has something on the other side 🔐. If you think you know who’s playing whom… think again. Keep your eyes sharp 👁️, and remember: in this house, nothing is ever just for show 🎭.

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