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Chapter 14
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2026-04-05 01:40:31
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Try to make me cry Chapter 17: The Baptism of Salt
The air in Hawaii was no longer a tropical paradise; it felt like a pressurized chamber, thick with the scent of expensive hibiscus and the metallic tang of a storm brewing offshore. I stood on the sand, the hem of my black silk dress already damp, feeling the eyes of the elite bore into my back from the glass terrace above.The Audience of VulturesUp on the teak deck, the music didn't stop, but the laughter did. I could see them through the floor-to-ceiling glass—the Ho family, my sisters, the corporate vultures. They weren't horrified by my mother’s cruelty; they were fascinated by it. “Did you see?” a cousin whispered loud enough for the wind to carry. “The Tyrant actually has tear ducts.”“She’s probably just angry she didn't get the inheritance,” Bethany added, her voice dripping with artificial sympathy as she sipped her champagne.They didn't see a daughter being disowned. They saw a high-stakes glitch in a perfect machine. To them, my pain was a performance, and they were w
Try to make me cry Chapter 16: The Architecture of a Sacrifice
The air in Hawaii felt heavy and damp, smelling of tropical flowers and the salty sea. It had been two days since our tense flight, and in that time, Eddie and I had barely spoken. He just hung around the doorway of our room like a shadow.I stood in front of the tall mirror, acting calm even though I felt empty inside. I picked out a long, black silk dress. It was a huge contrast to the bright, flowery outfits my sisters, Lily and Bethany, would definitely wear. To me, it felt like I was dressing for a funeral—my own.I smoothed the dress over my hip to make sure it hid the bandage on my knee. I looked powerful and cold, like the boss everyone thought I was. I didn't look like a woman who had spent two days wondering if her husband was a villain or just another person caught up in my family's lies.As I walked downstairs, the sound of my heels on the marble floor felt like a clock ticking down to something bad.Eddie was waiting in the expansive, open-concept living room. The ocean b
Try to make me cry Chapter 15: The Bed of Thorns
The vanity mirror was a vast, silver-backed sheet of crystal that spanned the entire length of the marble wall. In its reflection, I didn't see the Tyrant. I saw a ghost with long blonde hair, eyes like frozen lakes, and a charcoal silk jumpsuit that looked more like a bruise against the blinding white of the room.My heart hadn't just stopped; it had been seized.Resting on the cool, polished surface of the vanity—right where my hand would have naturally landed—was a small, tarnished silver music box. It was a relic from a lifetime ago, a piece of my childhood I thought had been ground into dust the day my father burned my old room.I reached out, my fingers trembling so violently the silk of my sleeves rustled like dry leaves. The metal was ice-cold. I flipped the latch. The mechanism groaned, a slow, dying melody of Clair de Lune staggering out into the silent room.How did she find this? My mother didn't leave "gifts." She left landmines. This box wasn't a memory; it was a threat.
Try to make me cry Chapter 14
The door hissed open, and the heat hit me like a physical blow.Hawaii didn't smell like the brochures. It smelled of salt, jet fuel, and a thick, oppressive humidity that made the silk of my jumpsuit cling to my skin within seconds. The sun was blinding, reflecting off the white concrete of the private airfield.I descended the stairs, the wind whipping my long blonde hair across my face. I squinted against the glare, spotting the black SUVs waiting at the edge of the tarmac. The beach house was a forty-minute drive away—a fortress of glass and volcanic rock perched over the Pacific. My mother’s kingdom.I reached the bottom step and paused, the heat radiating off the ground through my thin soles. Behind me, I heard the heavy tread of Eddie’s boots and the frantic, light patter of Bella’s sandals.I didn't turn around. I kept my back to them, looking out at the palm trees swaying in the distance.“The car for the Ho family is the lead one,” Eddie said, coming up beside me. He didn't
Try to make me cry Chapter 13: The Altitude of Isolation
The hum of the Gulfstream’s engines was a low, vibratory drone that seemed to rattle the very marrow of my bones. Inside the cabin, the air was pressurized and sterile, smelling of high-grade leather, expensive bourbon, and the cloying, sugary scent of Bella’s perfume.I sat in the oversized cream leather armchair, my legs crossed carefully at the ankles to avoid the white-hot sting of the scrapes on my knees. I had shed my wool coat, leaving me in the charcoal silk jumpsuit that felt like a second skin—a cold, shimmering armor. My laptop was open on the mahogany pull-out table, the glow of the screen reflecting in my eyes, but I wasn't reading the spreadsheets. I was listening.An hour into the flight, the initial theatrics had settled into a simmering, uncomfortable quiet. Eddie sat across the aisle, his navy jacket discarded, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that were tense with a strange, restless energy. Bella was perched on the edge of the seat next to him, h
Try to make me cry Chapter 12: The Gilded Departure
The silence in my bedroom was so thick it felt physical, a heavy velvet shroud that muffled the morning light. I sat on the edge of my bed, the silk duvet cool against the backs of my thighs. I was dressed in a tailored charcoal silk jumpsuit—seamless, sharp, and utterly devoid of warmth. Over my shoulders, a heavy cream wool coat was draped like a cape, the weight of it a grounding force. My long blonde hair, meticulously straightened, cascaded down my back like a sheet of spun glass.I didn't look like a woman going to a birthday party. I looked like a woman going to war.The only sound was the distant, rhythmic thud-thud of the maids moving through the hallway. Then, the inevitable knock. Two sharp raps."Madam? The luggage is ready."I didn't answer immediately. I traced the edge of my jaw, feeling the slight puffiness where the world had tried to break my mask the day before. I stood up, the floorboards silent under my pointed stilettos, and watched as the two maids scuttled in.
Try to make me cry Chapter 11: The Political Minefield
The office air went from celebratory to toxic in the space of that single, shouted syllable: "You! You are Miss Grayson?"The Governor, Laim London, and his son, Robin London, stared between me and the distraught woman, who I now knew was Ivy London.Robin London looked at his wife, confused. “Oh,
Try to make me cry Chapter 10: The True Puppet Master
The Confession and the Betrayal My face changed, I froze. What? My father. I thought he had lost all interest in me already, what now? “It wasn't my idea to send you this document... it was your father.” I stared at his broad back, his body language deliberately closed off. All the fury I had
Try to make me cry Chapter 9
Who is this now? I thought bitterness instantly overriding my professionalism. He has a new toy already?They were both focused on each other and hadn't noticed me yet.“You shouldn’t be here in my office, get off me,” Eddie was saying, his voice strained, though he wasn't physically pushing her aw
Try to make me cry Chapter 8: The Private Meeting
The moment I entered the mansion, the heavy silence swallowed me whole. Eddie was nowhere to be seen, likely retreating to his separate wing or his office—the predictable pattern of avoidance. I made my way slowly up the grand staircase, my limping steps echoing on the marble, each movement a remin
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