<b>Chapter </b>218
-MIA POV-
My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
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I sat on the edge of my bed, hair still damp from the shower, robe clutched tightly around me. The apartment was too quiet except for the insistent vibration echoing against the nightstand.
I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to hear. But I couldn’t stop myself. I reached for the phone with shaky fingers.
It wasn’t a call this time. It was a voice note. My father’s voice filled the room, loud, furious, impossible to ignore.
“Do
you have any idea what you’ve done? Our shares are crashing–our partners are pulling out one after another. Edward ckwood being refused calls by Hunter Reid, humiliated like a beggar! Is that what you wanted for me, Mia? To beughed at?!”
Another buzz. Another voice note.
“Fix this! I don’t care what you have to do, you ‘fix this!‘”
The sound of ss shattering in the background. Then silence.
I pressed the phone to my chest, trembling. My father’s rage was nothing new, but this…this was different. The panic in his voice<i>. </i>The helplessness. He had always been untouchable, but now… he sounded small.
And it was my fault.
Or… no. Not my fault. ‘Celine’s.’
She slipped. She fell. She wasn’t pushed. I repeated the words like a mantra, even as bile wed at my throat.
The phone buzzed again. This time it was Jessica.
I almost picked up. But I didn’t want to hear the pity in her voice–or worse, the gossip. Because by now Jessica knew. They all knew. The news of my father’spany unraveling, the whispers about me being cut off by Hunter Reid.
The thought made my stomach twist.
I dropped the phone back on the bed. Sat frozen. Then….without thinking….I scrolled down my contacts and pressed ‘Eleanor Reid‘
It rang once. Twice. No answer. My lip trembled. I was about to throw the phone when it rang again. Eleanor.
I swallowed hard and answered.
“Mrs. Reid,” I breathed, trying to sound calm.
…
<b>12:48 </b><b>Wed</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>17 <b>. </b>
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A pause. Then Eleanor’s cool, sharp voice: “Mia. Why are you calling me?”
It was like a p. Once, Eleanor had purred my name like an ally, a confidante. Now she sounded bored.
Distant.
I gripped the phone tighter. “Please. Can we meet? I….I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Another pause. Then, reluctantly: “Fine. Social club. Half past three.”
The line went dead.
***
By the time I arrived at the club, my nerves were raw. I had forced myself into my best designer dress<b>, </b>curled my hair, and painted my lips, but none of it hid the tremor in my hands.
I pushed through the heavy ss doors…..and froze.
Eyes turned. Heads tilted. Whispers rippled through the room like poison in water.
Once, when I entered, envy had followed. Admiration. Now there was onlyughter muffled behind manicured hands.
My heels clicked too loudly against the marble floor as I walked. My chest tightened. I wanted to scream, ‘stop staring at me!‘–but I kept my chin up, forcing myself forward.
At the corner table, Eleanor sat like a queen. Perfectly dressed, a ss of champagne in hand. Around her, three other women from the old circles leaned in, whispering, giggling.
My throat went dry.
Eleanor’s gaze slid upzily as I approached. She gave me a once–over, slow and deliberate, then lifted her ss.
“Mia,” she said, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “What a… surprise.”
The other women chuckled into their drinks. <fn98c9> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? Find_Novel(.</fn98c9>
My stomach knotted. I forced myself to sit, clutching my clutch so hard my knuckles whitened. “Thank you for meeting me,” I said, voice trembling despite my effort to steady it.
Eleanor sipped her drink, unbothered. “Of course. I do worry about your family. What Hunter’s done….it’s rather… dramatic, isn’t it?”
The way she said ‘dramatic‘ made the other women titter.
I swallowed. “You…you have to help me. You know your son. Please, talk to him. Tell him I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. He’ll listen to you.”
Atst, Eleanor looked at me directly. And I hated the way it felt–like I was a bug under ss.
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“My dear,” Eleanor said softly, “Hunter doesn’t listen to me either. Surely you know that by now.”
I blinked. “But…..”
“And,” she continued, voice growing sharper, “I have no desire to get in the middle of… this.”
“This?<b>” </b><b>I </b>whispered.
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“You provoked him,” Eleanor said simply, adjusting her ring. “You must understand, Mia. My son can be… terrifying when crossed. I know this better than anyone. And yet–you still poked the beast.”
The other womenughed. Not loud. Just soft enough to sting.
My chest heaved. “I didn’t! I swear….I didn’t push her. She…she slipped. It wasn’t me….”
“Oh, Mia.” Eleanor almost sounded amused. “Do you think excuses matter to him now?”
My eyes burned. I leaned forward, desperate. “Please. Please, you know I’ve always been on your side. I stood with you
when everyone else doubted you. I helped. Doesn’t that mean anything?<b>” </b>
Eleanor’s smile was razor–thin. “It meant something when you were useful. But now? You’ve only brought trouble. And Hunter hates trouble.”
It was like the ground dropped beneath me. My heart pounded. The whispers, the stares, Eleanor’s cold smile -it all pressed in until I could hardly breathe.
“You…you’re abandoning me?” I whispered.
Eleanor finally leaned closer, lowering her voice so only I could hear. “I love my grandchildren, Mia. I will always fight for them. But you? You are not my child. You are not even his woman.”
My vision blurred.
I felt humiliated. Betrayed. Stripped bare in front of women who once envied me. My stomach churned like I might throw up right there on the marble floor.
Eleanor leaned back, raising her ss. “Good luck, Mia.”
And that was it. I sat frozen, shaking, while theughter bubbled around me like daggers. For the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to be prey.
By the time I mmed my apartment door behind me, my knees nearly buckled.
The hallway mirror caught <i>me</i>, mercilessly. Mascara smudged, lipstick fading, dress wrinkled. Not Mia ckwood. Not anymore.
I stumbled into the living room and copsed onto the couch, clutching my clutch to my chest like it was
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12:48 Wed, <b>Sep </b>17
My ears still rang withughter. Eleanor’s cold smile. The whispers.
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“Useful,” I whispered to the empty room, voice breaking. “I was ‘useful.‘ That’s all I ever was to her.”
The phone buzzed again. Jessica.
I ignored it. Couldn’t bear the thought of her false concern, secretly delighting in my downfall.
Then another buzz–news alert: “Breaking News: ckwood Industries in Freefall. Edward ckwood is Silent.”
My throat closed. I swiped the screen away, fingers trembling.
The apartment suddenly felt too quiet. Too empty. The walls pressed closer. I stood abruptly, pacing the floor. Every creak sounded too loud. Every shadow stretched too long.
My eyes darted to the balcony window.
Was someone watching me? I pulled the curtain shut. Then opened it again, just to make sure.
Nothing. Just city lights. Myugh cracked, brittle. “You’re losing it, Mia.”
But the feeling wouldn’t leave. The crawling awareness at the back of my neck. The certainty that Hunter was out there, somewhere, watching.
I wrapped my arms around myself, pacing faster. “He wouldn’t… He couldn’t…”
But the memory of his eyes thest time I saw him….dark, cold, unblinking….made me shiver so hard my teeth chattered.
He ‘could.‘
My phone buzzed again. Another voice note. My father’s voice, harsher, more desperate.
“Everything is falling apart, Mia. Everything! Our name–our legacy–you’ve dragged it into the dirt. Hunter won’t pick up my calls. Investors areughing at me. ‘Do you understand?‘ You’ve destroyed us!”
The message ended with heavy breathing. Then silence. I dropped the phone onto the couch like it burned. My father hated me. Eleanor had abandoned me. Jessica circled like a vulture,
And Hunter–Hunter was waiting.
I felt it in my bones. He was going to strike, and I wouldn’t see iting.
My pulse roared in my ears. I grabbed a wine bottle from the counter, sloshing liquid onto my hands as I poured it into a ss. I downed it in one gulp<b>, </b>gasping, then poured another.
The alcohol burned, but it didn’t calm me.
My eyes flicked to the door. To the shadows by the bookshelf. To the sliver of darkness under the bedroom door.
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Everywhere, I imagined movement.
I staggered to the bedroom, flung the door open….empty. I yanked the closet wide…empty. Dropped to my knees, pulled up the bedskirt….empty.
Myugh was high, shaky. “See? Nothing. Nothing there.”
But I didn’t believe it. My phone buzzed again. I shrieked, flinching, clutching the wine ss so hard it cracked in my hand.
Blood welled across my palm. The screen lit up. A text from Jessica: “Mia, people are saying Hunter’sing for you. Be careful.”
The ss slipped from my hand and shattered. My breath came too fast, too sharp. My hands shook violently as I backed into the wall, eyes darting to the door.
He wasing.
Of course he was.
He’d taken my father’s power, our money, our respect. The only thing left to take was ‘me.
My mind spun. Should I pack? Run? Switzend—yes, I had told my assistant Switzend. But what if Hunter already knew? What if he was waiting at the airport?
My stomach lurched. I stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before retching. When I lifted my head, my reflection stared back at me. Pale. Wild–eyed.
Not Mia ckwood.
A ruined girl.
Tears blurred my vision. I gripped the counter, whispering, “I didn’t push her. She slipped. She slipped. It
wasn’t me…”
But even as the words left my lips, I didn’t believe them anymore.
I curled up on the bedter, in the dark, unable to move. Every sound outside–the hum of a car, the m of a door, footsteps in the hall–sent me bolting upright, heart racing.
At one point, I swore I heard his voice. My name. Low. Right outside the door.
I held my breath until my chest ached. When I finally dared to look–nothing. Just silence.
By dawn, I hadn’t slept. My eyes were swollen, my throat raw from whispering excuses to the empty room,
And still, the feeling never left.
Hunter wasing.
<b>I </b>just didn’t know when.