All Chapters of Love & Deceit: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Jayde POVI stare at my reflection in the cracked mirror, adjusting the hand-me-down blouse from Mom. It hangs a bit loose, like most of her clothes do on me, but it'll have to do. That's just how things are now.Ever since Dad died, our lives split into "before" and "after." Before, we weren't rich, but we got by. Dad made sure there was always food on the table, and I had this dream of becoming a beautician. He used to smile whenever I talked about it, probably picturing his only daughter owning her salon someday.Then came the "after." They brought him home one day, just like that. "Collapsed at work," they said. What they didn't say was how they'd use his final paycheck to cover "debts" we never knew existed. Mom and I cried for days, but tears don't pay bills.Now Mom works twice as hard selling whatever she can at the market, and I... Well, I work nights at the bar. Not exactly what I dreamed of, but it keeps us eating and, more importantly, keeps my beauty school fund growing.

Jayde POV I drag myself home two hours later, exhausted to my bones. The apartment is quiet - Mom should be home by now. She usually waits up for me, worrying like moms do.The kitchen feels empty as I pour cereal into a bowl, trying to quiet my growling stomach. Maybe she's already asleep? It happens sometimes when she's extra tired from working the market all day.A knock at the door startles me. This late, it can only be Heidi. She lives next door with her parents, but she's more like a sister than a neighbor. We share everything - food, clothes, secrets."Who is it?" I call out, even though I know."It's Heidi!" I let her in and headed back to my cereal, but something was wrong. Heidi's face is twisted with worry, tears already forming in her eyes."What's wrong?" I ask around a mouthful of cornflakes.She starts sobbing, and my heart stops."It's mom," she manages.For a second, I think she meant her mom - the one with the chronic illness she's always worried about losing, just

I step outside with my mom, her face etched with worry and sadness. It's been that way since Dad passed. After his death, it felt like our lives came to a halt—nothing good seemed to happen anymore.“Mom, don’t worry about paying Paul. I’ve made a deal with him,” I tell her, trying to ease her mind.She glances up at me as we walk into the house. "What kind of deal did you make with him?" Her voice is shaky, eyes wide with concern.I hesitate. I can’t say much—not yet. Beatrice and Paul had made me promise not to tell anyone about the arrangement.Mom turns away and starts crying, her sobs quiet but intense. My heart aches to see her like this. I rush to her side. “Mom, why are you crying?” I ask, desperate to understand.“I don’t know what I did to deserve all this! I couldn’t even take care of my daughter. Now, she’s made a deal to be Paul’s mistress to save me... I feel so miserable,” she says, choking on her words.“No!” I protest sharply, squeezing my face in disbelief. "Mom, tha

Time freezes as Declan's words hang in the air. Henry's hand is still wrapped around mine, warm and steady, while Declan's face twists with something between rage and triumph."You know her?" Henry asks, looking between us."Oh, I know her alright." Declan's laugh is cruel. "She's the barmaid who slapped me. Not Hattie Everett."Henry's hand goes slack in mine. The loss of his touch shouldn't hurt, but it does."What is he talking about?" Henry turns to me, and the confusion in his eyes makes my chest ache. "Hattie?""Her name is Jayde," Declan spits out. "She's nothing but a gold-digging - ""Enough!" Henry's voice cuts through the restaurant like a whip. Several diners turn to stare.I want to run. Everything in me screams to flee, but my feet won't move. The truth is finally here, and it's ugly."Outside," Henry says quietly. "All of us. Now."The walk to the parking lot feels like a death march. The night air is cool against my burning cheeks, but it does nothing to calm my racing

Jayde POVIt’s strange how silence can be louder than any argument.The past few days have been too quiet. No calls, no knocks at the door, no reminders that I almost married into madness. Just me, Mom, and the hum of our old refrigerator trying to keep up with the heat.You’d think peace would feel good after everything that’s happened but it doesn’t. It feels like waiting for another blow.Mom is humming again, a soft tune she used to sing when Dad was still alive. I sit by the window, tracing circles on the fogged glass with my finger. Outside, the world looks the same kids chasing each other down the street, a vendor calling out prices for tomatoes but somehow everything feels different.I’m different.“Jayde,” Mom calls from the kitchen, “you’ve barely touched your breakfast.”“I’m not that hungry,” I murmur.She walks in, holding a spoon like it’s a weapon. “You’ve said that every morning this week. You think I don’t notice?”I smile faintly. “You always notice.”She sits beside