The Westvale Hotel's penthouse suite provided a breathtaking view of the city, showcasing its beauty and power. The floor-to-ceiling windows let in an abundance of sunlight that spilled over the tangled silk sheets at the foot of the bed.
Wearing a satin robe, Heather Parker stood barefoot on the marble floor. Looking at the skyline, her heart skipped a beat, believing that Michael could see her somehow. It was obvious to him.
At this point, the wedding should have already started.
She had imagined countless times listening to the music, noticing the lilies and Michael looking at her as she walked towards him.
Nevertheless, she was unavailable at that time. She was by Edward's side.
She said softly, "How did I allow things to get as bad as this?"
Edward walked out of the bedroom after her, shirtless and was drinking whiskey as if it was late at night, but it was still early morning. He smiled as soon as she silenced her phone.
"You didn't allow it," he said with ease. "You made the decision."
With fire in her eyes, Heather turned to look at him. Don't misrepresent this. You promised not to let it destroy my life
I said I wouldn't have to," he interrupted, stepping closer. "Unless you pushed me."
She froze. The chill in his voice wasn't unfamiliar anymore. What started as a reckless affair had shifted, morphed, become something darker—something she hadn't fully escaped from.
Edward had secrets. About her. About her past. And he'd made it clear: if she married Michael, those secrets would surface.
"He'll forgive you," Edward said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "But he won't forgive what I'd show him."
Heather clenched her fists. "You don't love me. You just hate that I was going to leave you behind."
"No," he said in a sharp, low voice. That you were going to live a lie bothers me. And pull him along with it.
Heather took a deep breath. She kept thinking about Michael's smiles, his unfailing belief in her, and how he made her feel better than her flaws. But it was impossible because of that faith. He wasn't worthy of treachery concealed behind promises.
She ought to have broken up with Edward months ago. However, he always managed to pull her back when she tried, using charm, threats, and well-chosen reminders of all the things she had done. He had proof. of their relationship. of her falsehoods. Even of things she had concealed in her early days of public relations that could have destroyed her name, her business, and her reputation
He had what he desired now: control.
"You assured me that if I left, you wouldn't reveal anything," she said, her voice shaking. "If I didn't get married to him."
Edward had a gleam in his eyes. "And notice that you didn't. now I don't have to,"
In an attempt to quell the growing nausea, Heather turned away. There were church bells ringing somewhere in the distance.
She refrained from crying. Now was no moment for regret. Only repercussions.
"This won't be forgiven by him," she muttered.
"He'll move on," Edward answered. "You two will."
Heather, however, was wiser. Not all wounds healed. Not all men forgot. Furthermore, a broken Michael Hudson would never allow anyone close again.
The sunlight was now harsh against the glass as she gazed out over the city.
And she felt completely alone for the first time in her life.