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Chapter 55

Auteur: Maryann Brown
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-08-18 23:03:28
Mrs. Wilson was already at home when we arrived at Wayback. For a moment, my thoughts jumped straight to suspicion. She wasn’t the shooter. She couldn’t have been. There was no way she could have made it back from the woods this quickly. Or… could she?

The older woman didn’t ask a single question at first. She just looked once at Williams, then at Marcus, then finally at me—bloodied, bruised, and barely holding myself together. Without a word, she pulled the front door wider and ushered us inside.

If she found it strange that someone was about to be stitched up at her kitchen table, she didn’t show it. No gasp. No nervous look. No fussing over the blood on my clothes. She moved like this was all ordinary. I didn’t know if I should find that comforting—or very, very suspicious.

“I’ll put on some tea,” she said evenly, already crossing to the stove.

My heart was still hammering in my chest. Tea. Whiskey. Whatever she poured, would it even be safe to drink?

Williams helped me into a
Maryann Brown

So… someone pulled the trigger. Hailey is shaken, Williams is on edge, Marcus is watching everyone, and the Wilsons suddenly feel more suspicious than ever. But here’s the big question: 👉 Who do you think tried to kill Hailey? Was it someone in the woods—Aaron, Julian, Luca—or someone closer, like the Wilsons… or even Rebecca? Or do you think Agnes had a hand in this? I’d love to hear your theories in the comments before the next chapter. Who’s your top suspect right now?

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  • The Stripping Heiress    Chapter 75

    When Julian left, Williams walked me back to the house. His presence was silent but heavy, like the echo of everything I couldn’t stop replaying in my head.“How much did you hear?” I asked him. My voice sounded calm, but inside, I was barely holding it together.Williams gave me that steady, unreadable look of his. “How much do you want me to have heard?”I bit my lip. “You knew George Lachlan. Tell me honestly, would he have picked me just because Eloise Laughlin died on my birthday? Did he leave his entire fortune to someone random? Like he was drawing names from a hat?”Williams shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Hailey. The only person who ever really knew what George Lachlan was thinking was Mr. Lachlan himself.”I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.The hallways of Lachlan House felt colder than usual as we walked through them, too wide, too polished, too empty. Somewhere behind one of those doors, Marcus was probably destroying something. Julian was probably disappearing into silenc

  • The Stripping Heiress    Chapter 74

    There had to be more.There had to be.I couldn’t just be a random person picked because I was born on the right calendar date. That couldn’t be the whole story.What about my mother? What about the secret she had whispered to me on my fifteenth birthday—one year before Eloise had died? She had been dying then herself, her voice thin but determined. I have a secret, about the day you were born…What about George Lachlan’s letter? The only thing it had said was: I’m sorry.Sorry for what? He hadn’t just picked a birthday out of a hat. He hadn’t just chosen some girl at random.There had to be more.And yet, I could still hear Luca’s words circling my brain like vultures: You’re the glass ballerina—or the knife.Maybe both.“I’m sorry,” Julian said suddenly beside me. His voice was rough, like it had been dragged across gravel. “It’s not Marcus’s fault that he’s like this. It’s not Marcus’s fault…” His throat tightened. “That this is how the game ends.”Julian Lachlan. The one who never

  • The Stripping Heiress    Chapter 73

    I’d only halfway believed Aaron when he’d promised me a helicopter, but there it was, on the front lawn of Lachlan House, blades still. Williams wouldn’t let me step foot aboard until he’d checked it over. Even then, he insisted on taking the pilot’s spot. I climbed in the back and discovered Marcus already there. “Order a helicopter?” he asked me, like that was a perfectly normal thing to do. I buckled myself into the seat next to him. “I’m surprised you waited for liftoff.” “I told you, Heiress.” He gave me a crooked smile. “I don’t want to do this alone.” For a split second, it was like the two of us were back at the racetrack, barreling toward the finish line, then outside the helicopter, a flash of black caught my eye. A tuxedo. Julian’s expression was impossible to read as he climbed on board. Did Marcus tell you that I killed her? The echo of the question was deafening in my mind. The way both of them quarreled, I don’t know who to believe anymore. Marcus’s head whipped tow

  • The Stripping Heiress    Chapter 72

    I survived dinner without anyone trying to poison me or stab me under the table. That counted as a win. Marcus never showed, though, and that left an emptiness I couldn’t name.When the meal ended, I leaned close to Clara. “I need some air.”She didn’t argue. I didn’t go outside, though. I couldn’t face the cameras or reporters waiting to shout questions at me again. Instead, I slipped into another wing of the museum, Williams trailing behind me like my shadow.This part of the building was closed for the evening. The lights were dim, the rooms roped off, and the air was cool and still. As I walked down the long hall, my heels clicked softly against the floor. Williams’ steady footsteps followed mine.Then, up ahead, a door stood open. A light spilled out, sharp and bright, almost blinding compared to the dark corridor. Someone had pushed the velvet cord aside, leaving the room exposed.I stepped in.The sudden brightness felt like stepping into sunlight after sitting in a dark theate

  • The Stripping Heiress    Chapter 71

    “Hailey, look over here!”“Any comment about Craig Benson’s arrest?”“Can you comment on the future of the Lachlan Foundation?”“Is it true your mother was once arrested for solicitation?”The last question would have knocked me off my feet if I hadn’t been through seven rounds of practice with Adam. Instead of snapping back with the words I wanted—words with plenty of curse words—I kept my face calm. I stood still by the car, waiting.And then came the question I had been prepared for.“With everything that’s happened, how do you feel?”I looked straight at the reporter who asked. “I’m grateful to be alive,” I said clearly. “And I’m grateful to be here tonight.”The gala was inside an art museum. We entered on the upper floor and descended a sweeping marble staircase that seemed to go on forever. By the time I was halfway down, everyone in the huge hall below had turned their eyes toward me—or looked away in that deliberate, heavy way that was even worse.At the bottom of the stairs,

  • The Stripping Heiress    Chapter 70

    After my session with Adam, he left me in my bedroom where a small army was already waiting Clara’s chosen stylists, all sharp-eyed and buzzing with energy. I could have told them to leave. I could have said I wasn’t going to the gala. But Adam’s words echoed in my head. What message would that send if I refused? That I was scared? That I had something to hide? That Kiara was guilty? She’s not. I repeated it to myself like a prayer. She’s not guilty. I was halfway through hair and makeup when the door opened. Kiara slipped inside, her face blotchy, streaked with mascara. She’d been crying. My heart jumped painfully in my chest. She didn’t do anything wrong. She couldn’t have. Kiara froze for a second, just long enough for me to notice the panic in her eyes. Then she rushed forward and threw her arms around me, squeezing like she was afraid to ever let go. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against my shoulder. “I am so, so sorry.” My blood went cold. Just for a moment. “I s

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