All Chapters of The Stripping Heiress : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Williams was waiting beside the car, a to-go coffee in hand. He didn’t mention my midnight detour with Marcus, and I didn’t ask how much he’d seen. As he opened the passenger door, he leaned in just far enough for his words to stay between us. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Before I could ask what he meant, I saw why. Clara was in the front seat. “You’re looking sedate this morning,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. She made sedate sound like a rare condition—slightly less reckless, temporarily less scandalous. I wondered what she’d have called finding Luca asleep in Kiara’s room. This is not good. “I hope you don’t have plans for this weekend,” Clara said once Williams pulled away from the curb, “or the next.” Marcus and Aaron were nowhere in sight—no buffer. Clara looked like she’d been rehearsing this speech all night. My lawyer can’t ground me, I thought. Right? “I was hoping to keep you out of the limelight a little longer,” she continued, “but that

I knew from the map where the Black Wood was supposed to be. It wasn’t hard to find—it sat on the edge of the property, dark and heavy, as if the air itself pressed down on anyone who dared to enter. When I got close, I saw Marcus standing there at the tree line.He wasn’t moving. He looked frozen, like something inside him had stopped working. His shoulders were stiff, his face unreadable, but I could feel the storm inside him. Then, without warning, he snapped. His fist slammed into the nearest tree, then again and again. The sound of skin hitting bark echoed through the woods. Blood smeared his knuckles, but he didn’t stop.I knew why. Linda had brought up Eloise. Even her name had the power to rip Marcus open.“Marcus!” My voice cracked a little as I hurried toward him. He turned his head sharply, eyes flashing, and for a moment, I felt like I had walked into something private—something I shouldn’t see. This wasn’t the confident Marcus everyone else saw. This was him breaking.I h

The door Mrs. Wilson sent me through didn’t take me straight to a bathroom. Instead, it opened into a small bedroom with two twin beds, side by side, and nothing else. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and the quilts on the beds were stitched from squares of fabric in different shades of purple. The room looked gentle, quiet, almost too calm compared to the storm still raging inside me.The bathroom door was cracked open. I walked toward it slowly, each step echoing in my ears. I felt so aware of every sound, every shadow, as if I could hear a pin drop miles away.There’s no one here. You’re safe. It’s okay. You’re okay.I pushed the bathroom door wider, and before I did anything else, I pulled back the shower curtain, checking the tub like a scared child.There’s no one here.I repeated the thought repeatedly, but my body didn’t believe it. My chest was tight. My hands shook.I managed to pull my phone from my pocket. My fingers fumbled, but I got Maya’s name up on the screen a

It was three long hours before Williams and his team cleared me to return to Lachlan House. I sat in the back of the ATV with three bodyguards squeezed around me. The air smelled like oil and dirt, and the ride was bumpy. No one spoke except Williams. His voice was calm, but sharp, like every word had already been measured before leaving his mouth. “Thanks to the large number of security cameras on the property,” he explained, “my team was able to confirm where every member of the Lachlan family was at the time of the shooting. That includes Ms. Linda.” For a moment, relief washed over me. They had alibis. Julian had an alibi. He wasn’t the one who had pulled the trigger. But the relief didn’t last. My chest tightened with a new thought. “What about Maxwell?” I asked. Technically, he wasn’t a Lachlan by blood. “Clear,” Williams replied. “He did not personally fire the gun.” That word—personally—made my stomach twist. “So you’re saying he could have hired someone?” I asked carefu

Williams walked me back to my part of the house. The hallways were quiet, the kind of calm that presses on your chest and makes you notice every sound your own feet make.For a second, I thought about knocking on Kiara’s door. But it was too late—closer to morning than night—and what was I supposed to say? Hey, someone tried to kill me, sleep well. No. I couldn’t drag her into it.When we reached my wing, Williams opened the door, stepped inside, and scanned the room with sharp eyes. He checked the corners, the closet, and even under the bed, then gave a small nod.“All clear.”He stood outside my door when I went in. Feet planted wide, hands hanging loose, like he was ready to fight anyone who came close. I wanted to tell him he needed to rest. He wasn’t a machine. But I could see it in his face—he wasn’t leaving me unguarded tonight.The door closed, leaving me inside alone.Trying not to let that heavy feeling take over, I headed to the bathroom. I put my phone on the counter, slip