Chapter 144

Chapter 144

Vanessa's POV

She sat rigid in the back seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap, nails digging into her skin. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, fast and uneven, each pulse reminding her that she was still breathing, still standing—but only barely.

Nothing had gone according to plan, not today, and not anymore. She could feel it.

She kept her face composed as the car came to a stop. One of the security guards opened the door, and Vanessa stepped out with practiced grace, her heels clicking against the stone path.

She straightened her back instinctively, lifting her chin, forcing her shoulders into place. Anyone watching would see the same Vanessa Hart they always saw—elegant, poised, untouched.

But something had shifted, and the staff noticed.

She could feel it in the way eyes lingered a second too long, in the hesitation before greetings, in the subtle tightening of expressions that hadn’t been there before.

Vanessa walked past them all and went straight to her room, shutting the door behind her with a soft, deliberate click.
The moment the lock slid into place, the façade shattered.

She stumbled forward as if her legs had finally remembered how exhausted they were. Her handbag slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a low thud that she barely even noticed.

Her chest tightened violently, Vanessa pressed her palm against it, trying to breathe, trying to slow the frantic rise and fall that had taken over her body. The air felt thin, insufficient. Her vision blurred.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no…”
Her composure dissolved. She slid down the door, back pressed against the wood, knees drawn to her chest as the first sob tore free. It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t quiet. It came from somewhere deep and ugly, ripped out of her chest with force.

Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless, soaking into the fabric of her dress.

After everything she had done, after every risk, every calculation, every sacrifice.
The universe was turning on her.

She laughed through her tears, the sound cracked and hysterical. “After everything,” she muttered. “After everything I did…”
She pushed herself up unsteadily and moved toward the bed, sinking onto it like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Her hands trembled as she reached into the drawer beside her bed.

She brought out the burner phone, and stared at it for a long moment before picking it up, her fingers slick with sweat. This phone had always been her safety net, her insurance. The quiet line that made her feel untouchable.

She dialed the first number from memory.
It rang once, twice, then went dead.
Vanessa frowned, breath hitching. She tried again, and it went straight to voicemail.

“No,” she whispered, sitting up straighter now. “Felicia… pick up.”
She dialed again, and realized she had just been blocked.

The realization hit her like a slap. Her fingers shook harder as she switched numbers and dialed again—this time Dr. Halver.
The phone rang once, then it went silent.
She checked the screen, and he had blocked her too.

Vanessa stared at the phone as if it had betrayed her personally. Her reflection stared back at her from the dark glass—eyes red, makeup smeared, expression fractured and unfamiliar.

“They blocked me,” she whispered.
The weight of it settled slowly, cruelly.

Felicia was gone, Halver was gone.
The two people she had trusted to stay quiet, to stay bought, to stay loyal—had vanished the moment things stopped looking safe.

Of course they had, Vanessa let out a broken laugh and dragged a hand through her hair. “Cowards,” she hissed. “All of you are cowards.”

Her chest ached painfully now, the sobs returning harder, sharper. She curled forward, pressing her face into her hands.
She had done this for Damian, for him.
She had bent rules, crossed lines, destroyed herself piece by piece just to secure a place at his side. Just to give him what he wanted, what he claimed he needed.

And now? Now he had played that recording.

The memory hit her again, fresh and brutal. His voice, calm and controlled. Her own words spilling out unchecked. The way the courtroom had gone gasped, shocked.

The way eyes had turned toward her, the way suspicion had shifted.
Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut, breathing fast. “I loved you,” she whispered bitterly. “I loved you enough to ruin myself.”

She stood abruptly and walked toward the mirror, stopping inches from it. The woman staring back looked nothing like the one she had carefully curated for years. This woman looked scared, exposed, and human.

Vanessa raised a hand and wiped her tears aggressively, smearing the last of her makeup away. Her jaw tightened as something cold and sharp settled beneath the panic.

If she was going down, she wouldn’t go down quietly.

She straightened, inhaled deeply, forcing air into her lungs until the trembling eased just enough. She wiped her face again, slower this time, more deliberate.

“I won’t be the only one to burn,” she murmured.
A knock sounded at the door, Vanessa froze.

Her heart jumped violently before she forced her expression into something passable, turning toward the door. “Yes?” she called, her voice hoarse but steady enough.
The door opened slightly, and a maid stepped in, careful and subdued.
“Miss Hart,” the maid said softly. “I brought Jayson. Since you’re back.”
Vanessa’s gaze dropped instinctively to the baby in the maid’s arms.

Jayson, her son. The one thing she hadn’t lost yet.

She crossed the room slowly and took him into her arms, holding him against her chest. His warmth grounded her, steadied the shaking in her hands.

For a moment, just a moment, everything else faded. Vanessa pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering there longer than necessary. Her eyes burned again—but this time, the tears didn’t fall.
“They think they’ve won,” she whispered against his skin.

Her grip tightened just slightly. “But this isn’t over, because I sti
ll have you.”
She lifted her head and her expression hardening as resolve replaced despair