CHAPTER 137: YOU BITCH

"I don’t know her."

Caius said it softly. Like he knew it hurt to say, but he needed to be honest.

But Heather didn’t flinch. She didn’t even try to argue.

She just took a quiet breath. That was the truth. He really didn’t know the housekeeper. Rather, remember.

And maybe... just maybe... when he asked her to feed him earlier, it wasn’t only because he wanted to feel in control.

Maybe it was also because he actually couldn’t use his hands. And feeding him made her feel like they were getting closer.

Besides, she said she was his wife, even if he didn’t believe it yet.

Heather didn’t say anything about that. She just pulled a chair close and sat beside him.

She stayed quiet after he was done eating. Her eyes were on the floor. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. She also didn’t want to push too much, atleast not now when everything felt too soon.

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again.

There were things she needed to tell him. Serious things. She received another call from Adonis this morning. She hadn’t told anyone Caius was back; because she didn’t want them to come see for themselves. That meant they’d find him in this condition.

She knew she can’t hide something like this for so long, so she better get into progress with Caius soon.

She hadn’t spoken yet because she didn’t want to scare him or confuse him. She was still thinking about the best way to bring it up.

He noticed the silence. And he noticed her eyes looked a little too tired.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Now was probably the right time to tell him. Maybe not perfect. But right enough.

So Heather began to speak.

.

.

The prison guard walked down the hallway.

He stopped in front of the cell gate and tapped the bars with his wooden baton. "Ma’am, someone’s here to see you."

As she jiggled with the keys, he paused. Then added, "Back up, you know the rules."

Lauren stepped backward slowly. Not because she respected the man. She didn’t.

She didn’t respect any of them.

She had already learned the hard way that acting like she was too good for prison only got her in trouble. Once, she had mouthed off to a guard and he hit her across the face. That day, she stopped pretending to be above it all.

Once she was backed up, the guard unlocked the cell and handcuffed her wrists.

He didn’t speak again. Just walked her down the hall until they reached a small phone booth.

He opened the door and pointed. "You’ve got five minutes."

Lauren sat down. She rubbed her wrists where the cuffs had just been.

Then she picked up the phone.

She didn’t even wait to hear a hello. Her voice came out sharp and full of hate.

"You bitch," she hissed. The word came out slow, bitter, and full of everything she was feeling. All she felt was resentment.

The insult didn’t come from anger alone, it came from betrayal. From months of sitting in this hellhole, thinking of how Trish helped set her up.

On the other end of the glass, Trish didn’t flinch. She looked calm. She sounded calm too. "Lauren," she said, "calm down."

Lauren let out a dry laugh. "I’ll calm down when I’m not in a cell, paying for something I didn’t do, sleeping on hard bunk. When someone actually decides I’m worth a court date. And when I’m not rotting in cell for a crime some other bitch committed."

"Damn," Trish said.

"Yeah. Damn." Lauren rolled her eyes. "And to think I believed Heather wouldn’t have the balls."

Trish couldn’t say anything to that.

There was silence for a moment. Trish looked at her, and Lauren stared right back. The silence was heavy with mutual hatred.

Trish leaned forward and said quietly, "We need to talk."

She had always seen Heather as soft. Fragile. The weak link in the family. Clearly, she had misjudged her. Again.

"I’m not talking to you."

Trish leaned forward a little. "Drop the act, Lauren. You’re scared. And you’ll take help from anyone who offers it."

Her voice was cold now. Cruel, even. "You’ve always been desperate. That’s who you are. A desperate little animal."

Lauren’s jaw tightened. But she didn’t answer that. She wasn’t about to show Trish she was right.

Trish smiled. Because that was the response she wanted. She pushed harder. "I’m willing to help you... because it helps me, too."

"Bullshit."

"Oh?" Trish tilted her head.

"Trish, you don’t help people. You run to your brothers when life gets hard. So if you’re here, talking to me, then something must be wrong. What went wrong?"

Trish hesitated.

She hadn’t come here to spill her secrets. But now that she was sitting in front of Lauren, something in her started to come loose.

"I killed Caius."

Lauren blinked. Her expression didn’t change right away. "What?"

Trish looked down. Then back up. "Maybe he’s dead. Maybe he’s half-dead. I don’t know. But I’m the reason it happened."

"... W-why?" Lauren asked. Her voice was sharper now. Not full of pity. Just... curious.

"Don’t tell me you still love that bastard," Trish snapped.

"Answer the question."

Trish looked away. For a moment, she almost didn’t speak. Then her words came out, slow and shaky.

"Heather killed my brothers."

Lauren just stared. That didn’t make sense. Heather? The same quiet, harmless Heather?

Trish went on. "I didn’t believe it either. Nobody did. But they’re dead. And I know she did it."

Her voice was getting tighter and more bitter.

"She was supposed to keep her fat mouth shut. But she didn’t. She said my name in an interview. And suddenly the whole world thinks I was part of the Sebastian case."

She took a deep breath.

"People spit on me in public. They unfollowed me. They stopped inviting me to parties. No one wants to be seen with a maybe-murderer. Meanwhile you’re in here rotting, and I’m the one getting canceled."

Her face twisted into something dark.

"My brothers told me to leave the country. They said they’d deal with Heather. I believed them. I was halfway to the airport. But I wanted to check in. I called. And someone else answered."

She paused.

"They told me my brothers were dead. That I was next."

Lauren stayed quiet. She was taking it all in.

"So I got angry. I took a bulldozer and drove to the private road near the house. I was going to kill Heather myself. Even if I died doing it."

"But then I saw Caius’s car."

Her eyes narrowed.

"And I had a better idea. I slammed into his car. Crushed it. I wanted to finish it. But people were coming. So I had to run."

Now she was stuck. She couldn’t leave the country. Caius’s people were hunting her. She had nothing left.

Lauren let out a soft, cruel laugh. "You deserve everything you got."

Trish smirked. "Maybe. But at least I’m not in here." She looked at the cell. "You are."

Lauren didn’t flinch, but she gripped the phone tighter. She wasn’t going to give Trish the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to her.

Trish leaned closer. "You’ll be here forever. I might not. And if I go down, I’ll make sure I’m not the only one."

Lauren didn’t answer right away. "Pretty soon you’d wish you were rather here than outside the cell."

"No. You need me, Lauren. Nobody else is coming to save you. But it’s a shame. We could have made a great team."

Lauren stared straight into her eyes. "No thanks. I’d rather side with someone who’s actually going to win."

Before Trish could speak again, the guard came up behind Lauren. "Time’s up, ladies."

The cuffs were already being locked around Lauren’s wrists.

Lauren stood up slowly. "Just wait. When I walk out of here, you’ll regret crossing me."

She looked Trish dead in the eye.

"Oh—and say hi to my lovely sister for me."

Trish didn’t smile this time. She had lost the upper hand.

Lauren, though? She smiled as she was led away.

Because she wasn’t as hopeless as she looked.

She didn’t need Trish’s help. She had someone else. Someone who promised her freedom.

All she had to do was wait for the right moment.

.

.

Caius sat still, taking in everything Heather had just told him.

His shoulders were slightly raised, like he was holding in a breath. His lips were pressed together. And even though his eyes were open, he didn’t blink much.

Heather had expected something like this.

She didn’t expect him to yell or shout. But she could tell that the things she had said were a lot to hear. She wasn’t even sure she had said them the right way. Who would believe their lives were like soap operas?

And now, here he was, sitting across from her, not saying a single word. She was worried he might shut down.