Heather's hands trembled as she clutched the signed contract, a mixture of relief and unease flooding her. She had done it. Eamon Rodge's signature was now on the document, but his ominous promise still echoed in her mind.
She had to get back to Marcus and show him, prove to him that she was loyal and true.
Driving back to Marcus's house, Heather replayed the encounter in her mind. Eamon Rodge was not the elderly man she had imagined, but a young, dark figure with an unsettling presence.
His agreement to sign in exchange for a future favor had been unexpected, but she was willing to do whatever it took to save her relationship.
As she approached Marcus's house, she noticed another car parked in the driveway. A knot formed in her stomach. Marcus had mentioned nothing about having guests tonight.
Pushing down her anxiety, she parked and headed toward the door, her heart pounding louder with each step.
The house was eerily quiet as she entered, the faint sound of laughter and clinking glasses drifting from the living room.
Heather paused, her breath catching in her throat. She moved silently towards the noise, her footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor.
Peering into the living room, Heather's heart shattered. There, on the couch, was Marcus, his arms wrapped around a woman she recognized from a few of his social gatherings—Sherry.
They were laughing, their bodies close, and it was clear from their intimate proximity that this was no innocent interaction.
Heather's vision blurred with tears as she watched Marcus lean in and kiss Sherry, his hands roaming over her body without hesitation. The contract slipped from Heather's fingers, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
The faint sound caught Marcus's attention, and he looked up, his eyes widening in shock.
"Heather," Marcus stammered, pulling away from Sherry, but it was too late. The damage was done.
Heather took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. "How could you, Marcus?" she whispered, her voice trembling with hurt and anger. "After everything, after all we've been through..."
Marcus stood up, his face paling. "Heather, it's not what it looks like. I can explain."
Heather laughed bitterly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Not what it looks like? Really? Because it looks like you're cheating on me with her."
Sherry, looking uncomfortable, started to gather her things. "Maybe I should go," she muttered, avoiding Heather's gaze.
"Yes, maybe you should," Heather snapped, her voice gaining strength. "This is between me and Marcus."
Sherry left quickly, leaving the room tense and charged with emotion. Marcus stepped towards Heather, but she held up her hand, stopping him.
"I went to Eamon Rodge's house tonight," she began, her voice cold. "I got his signature. I did it for you, to prove my loyalty, to show you that I would do anything for us."
Marcus's eyes widened in surprise. "You were allowed to see Eamon Rodge?"
"Yes," Heather continued, her voice breaking. "And while I was doing that, while I was risking everything, you were here... with her."
"Heather, I—"
"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "There's nothing you can say that will make this right. You asked me to prove my loyalty, and I did. But you? You've proven that you never deserved it."
Marcus's face fell, realizing the gravity of his actions. "Heather, please. I made a mistake. I love you. We can work through this."
Heather looked at him, her heart breaking all over again. "Love? You don't know what love is, Marcus. If you did, you wouldn't have done this."
She bent down, picking up the contract and clutching it tightly. "Here. This is what you wanted, right? Well, you're not getting it."
With that, Heather turned and walked out of the house, the contract paper firmly in her grasp.
As she drove away, her tears falling freely now, Heather felt a strange sense of liberation mixed with the deep pain of betrayal. Perhaps, keeping the contract from him was her way of reclaiming her power.
Heather thought hard while she drove off where she'd go. She knew she couldn't go back to her shared apartment with Camille.
Camille had been a sweet, supportive friend who took her in when she had nowhere else to go, and Heather didn't want to burden her with this fresh heartbreak.
As she sat in her car, the night air cool against her tear-streaked face, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She paused at Mia's name.
Mia, Marcus's sister, was not only family but also a true friend. Heather hesitated for a moment, then pressed the call button. The phone rang twice before Mia picked up.
"Heather? Is everything okay?" Mia's voice was warm but tinged with concern.
Heather took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "Mia, I... I need somewhere to stay tonight. Can I come over?"
"Of course, Heather," Mia replied immediately. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"I'll explain when I get there," Heather said, her voice breaking slightly. "Thank you, Mia."
"Don't worry about it," Mia said gently. "Just get here safely. I'll be waiting for you."
Heather ended the call and took a deep breath, wiping away her tears. She started the car and drove towards Mia's house, each mile putting more distance between her and the betrayal she had just witnessed.
When she arrived at Mia's place, Mia was already standing outside, her arms crossed, worry etched across her face. As soon as Heather stepped out of the car, Mia rushed to her, enveloping her in a tight hug.
"Heather, what happened?" Mia asked softly, leading her inside.
Heather clung to Mia, the tears she had tried to hold back now flowing freely. "It's Marcus," she managed to choke out between sobs. "He... he was with someone else. While I was out trying to prove my loyalty to him, he was... with her."
Mia's expression darkened, but her eyes held a glint of something unreadable. "That bastard brother of mine," she muttered. "I always suspected he might do something stupid, but I never thought he'd hurt you like this."
Heather pulled away slightly, wiping her eyes. "I can't go back to Camille's right now. She's been so kind, and I don't want to worry her with all of this."
Mia nodded understandingly, though her mind was elsewhere.
"You can stay here as long as you need, but you know what? We should get out of here for a while. Let's go to the Ritz Hotel. It's a great place to unwind and get our minds off things for a bit."
Heather hesitated. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."
"You're not imposing," Mia insisted, a warm smile plastered on her face. "It'll be fun. Just what you need to get your mind off that jerk."
Despite her better judgment, Heather nodded. "Okay, let's go."
The clock struck 9 o'clock PM as Eamon slipped quietly into the mansion. The low hum of the television was the only sound that filtered through the air. He moved through the foyer, catching a glimpse of Harris, who trailed closely behind him, eyes bright and all ready for work.. Yes, work.“Did they get the Blackwoods?” Eamon asked, his voice low, almost conspiratorial.“Absolutely, Boss,” Harris replied, grinning ear to ear. “Everything went off without a hitch, all thanks to Master Nathan's hands.”As Eamon stepped into the living room, he spotted Heather sprawled on the couch like a starfish. The soft glow of the TV illuminated her peaceful face. A pink blanket was draped over her, and she looked utterly adorable. ‘What is that? A pink, fluffy…cloth?’ he mused, moving closer.“Seriously,” Harris whispered, eyes widening. “Is that…?” Eamon shot him a look, finger raised to his lips. “Shh! You’ll wake her up.” Slowly, he lifted her up and carried her in his arms.But just then, He
The morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow into the plush white designed room. Heather lay in the plush jacuzzi, the fragrant honey and milky scent enveloping her, making her feel relaxed, happy and well content. She had no idea how Eamon managed to arrange everything before her arrival or after, all in a few hours, but her mind was too hazy to dwell on it.That lovely heaven-like tranquility was shattered by her phone ringing incessantly. She frowned at the screen when she saw the caller: ‘Remember To Kill Me’, it was Marcus. Suddenly, to Heather, it felt like the sound of her ringtone was irritating, like an annoying fly buzzing around her head. She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to throw the phone against the wall. After all, it cost Arthur a lot to get it and would probably cost more now to get a phone like this.“Ugh, not this again,” she muttered to herself, reluctantly reaching for her phone after it rang again and again.Marcus's voice
Eamon sat in a sleek, modern slaughter and meat selling shop that radiated an air of cleanliness and order aside its meaty and bloody smell, a very big contrast to the usual dark underground or abandoned places one could do dirty business. The only slight similarity was that each and every person in the meat shop was Eamon's men, even the one who posed as customers, for now.Sunlight filtered through large glass windows, illuminating the polished wood and metal furnishings. He sipped white tea from his teacup, tapping his fingers on the table, seeming like he was lost in thought. Sitting across from him was his cousin Jordan Cooper-Rodge who leaned back in his chair and a casual smirk donned on his face.“What brings you here, Cousin?” Jordan asked, tilting his head slightly. He had dark curls that framed his face perfectly well. “I didn’t expect to see you in base for at least a week.”As it is, this clean slaughterhouse was their base to meet up and talk about the family business
Heather stood frozen. She was shocked as well as utterly speechless. Her heart wqs still racing as a result of the wild currents of desire but, what was it with this harsh reality of his rejection? She couldn't even comprehend what had just transpired, she was confused and unsatisfied."Mr. Rodge, wait—" she began, but he turned on his heel, leaving her breathless and aching for more. The door clicked shut behind him, isolating her in the study, and thanks to the silence her own heartbeat was amplified.She took a shaky breath, trying to ground herself. The fabric of the dress lay before her, untouched, as if mocking her inability to focus. It was mocking her!‘Do not hit it or yell at it, Heather. It's just a dress,’ she reminded herself. Just a project. Good, it didn't have eyes to witness this moment, even if it is sort of a potential witness.After a moment, she returned to continue her work but her fingers were fumbling with the needle and thread, shaky and unsteady. Her mind c
"It's beautiful."She breathed, her eyes fixed on the dress as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. But her reverie was shattered by the sound of Eamon's voice, his deep tones sending a shiver down her spine.She spun around, her heart racing like a wild animal, to find him standing in the study doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, his bathrobe still wrapped around him like a shroud.His eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed intently on her, and Heather felt her pulse quicken, her breath catching in her throat."Control yourself, Heather," she whispered sternly, her eyes locked on his, as she struggled to rein in her traitorous body's response to his presence.But it was no use; her heart continued to race, her skin tingling with awareness, as he drew closer, his eyes burning with an intensity that left her breathless.
"You made so many demands, how is Madam Eamon going to meet them?"Eamon's movements froze, his glass of wine suspended mid-air. "What did you call her?" he asked, his tone flat and even, but his eyes gleaming with a hint of excitement.Harris looked up at Eamon, whose sophisticated eyes now stared deep into his, as if searching for something."M... Madam Eamon," Harris stuttered, his eyes darting away.Eamon's face then broke into a desperate, childish smile, his eyes shining with an unsettling intensity."I'll triple your bonus this month and the next six months," he offered, his voice dripping with enthusiasm.Harris's eyes widened in shock, his mouth agape. This offer was too good to be true. It happened once in a NEVER!"As you say, Boss." He nodded hastily,