Chapter 107 Exposed
The conference room slowly emptied, but Marcus remained seated.
His fingers tapped silently against the polished table.
‘Acquire Hayes.’
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Then his gaze sharpened.
"How did Hayes Corporation manage to get tangled in this mess?"
He leaned back slightly. ‘Was this Evelyn's doing?’
He scoffed quietly. “Impossible.”
"Sir."
His assistant stepped forward cautiously.
Marcus didn't look at him. "Pull every piece of information on this leak."
"Yes, sir."
"And—" Marcus paused. "Trace Evelyn Sinclair's movements over the past seventy-two hours—"
His phone rang.
Marcus stopped.
He glanced at the screen, and his expression changed instantly.
Without another word, he stood and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window before answering.
“Hello.”
A female voice came through, cold, and direct.
"Do not get involved.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“We’re cutting Hayes off.”
A faint glint passed through his gaze.
“What about the current project?”
“It’s a failed project,” she replied dismissively.
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t care how that news got out,” she continued. “Any move now will draw attention to us. Since the Hayes are being charged with drug trafficking, let them bear it. We've done enough for them.”
The call went silent for a while.
“They’ll try to reach out,” she added. “You know what to do.”
The line went dead.
Marcus stared at the phone for a while, then laughed mockingly.
“So that’s all they were worth.”
His expression hardened.
“They couldn’t even handle something this simple.”
—
On the outskirts of the city, a bucket of water crashed down.
Maya jolted awake with a sharp gasp.
Cold seeped straight into her bones.
Her vision cleared slowly.
She stared at the concrete walls, dim lights, and chains.
Her hands were restrained.
“What do you want from me?!” she snapped, her voice trembling despite herself.
The men around her laughed.
“Relax,” one of them said. “You’ll understand soon.”
“I’m Richard Hayes’ daughter,” she shot back. “If you don’t let me go right now—”
They laughed harder.
Heels clicked against the concrete floor.
An elegant woman stepped into view. Smiling.
"Is that so?" She asks softly.
She stopped right in front of her.
Looked down at her like she was nothing.
“We meet again… Maya.”
Maya’s breath caught.
“You…”
The woman smiled wider.
“Amelia Kensington.”
The name hit hard.
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“I told you before,” Amelia continued lightly. “I’d be your worst nightmare.”
Maya swallowed. She forced herself to speak.
“I've done nothing to you. Is there a misunderstanding?"
Amelia tilted her head.
“No,” she said simply. “There isn’t.”
She pulled out her phone and turned it toward her.
Maya’s face drained instantly as she watched herself with a man in bed.
“You’re his—”
“Fiancée.” Amelia’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Maya’s voice shook. “I didn’t know—”
Amelia stepped closer.
“That’s exactly the problem,” her voice dropped.
“You didn’t care to know the fiancée of whom you're fucking with.” She laughed.
“You sure have a habit of taking other women's men, don't you?”
She crouched down, gripping Maya's chin, forcing her to meet her eyes.
"I don't even love Dorian. But he's useful. And you've made him... distracted."
She released Maya and straightened, wiping her hand with a handkerchief.
"If you let me go," Maya trembled. "I'll forget this ever happened."
“There's news waiting for you in the outside world. The Hayes name is poison now."
Maya's face drained of color. "What?!"
"You'll see soon enough." Amelia turned to the two men. "Make sure she understands the cost of crossing me."
She walked toward the door.
"Don't kill her," she added over her shoulder. "Just make her wish we had."
Maya struggled against the restraints.
“You can’t do this! My father—!”
“Your father can’t even save himself.” Amelia said walking out.
The door closed behind her.
Maya's screams echoed through the room.
—
At the Hayes mansion, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Like everything was seconds away from collapsing.
Claire paced back and forth restlessly.
“What do we do?” she demanded, her voice rising. “How did something like this even get out?!”
She turned abruptly.
Richard sat motionless in an armchair, his head bowed, his hands resting limp on the armrests.
Claire marched toward him.
“You’re just sitting there?” she snapped. “You don’t have a plan? An idea? Anything?”
He didn't look up.
"Goddamn it, Richard!" She grabbed his shoulder. "Say something!"
He shoved her hand off. "Stop screaming at me. You're the one who got us into this."
Claire froze. Then laughed in disbelief.
“Me?” she scoffed. “Who was the one that told me to contact those people in the first place?”
“Claire, I’m not doing this with you right now,” Richard said, running a hand through his hair. “The company is about to collapse.”
“The company?” Claire’s tone cracked. “You’re still thinking about the company? Do you even understand what we’re facing right now?”
“M-madame…”
A trembling voice cut through the argument.
“What?!” Claire snapped, turning around.
The housekeeper stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her.
“I’m sorry to inform you,” she said carefully, “but we’re resigning.”
Everywhere went silent.
Claire's mouth fell open.
“What? Resigning? To where?”
“We can’t stay here,” one of the maids spoke up. “Not with a drug trafficking scandal hanging over this house.”
Claire’s expression twisted.
“You ungrateful—”
She lunged forward, grabbing the girl
by her hair.
“I picked you up from the streets and this is how you repay me?!”
“Let go!” the maid cried out.
The other servants rushed in, pulling them apart as the room descended into chaos.
While the commotion was ongoing, Richard stood. His gaze locked onto the housekeeper.
“Mary,” he called out, his voice low. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Where?” She met his gaze without flinching.
"Do you expect me to stay?" She laughed. "To be caught up in this mess with you?"
She glanced at Claire, still struggling with the other servants.
"She's your wife. That's her duty.”
She turned toward the door.
Richard moved fast. He grabbed her wrist.
“Let go of me!” she snapped.
“You think you can just walk away?” he growled. “After everything I’ve given you?”
Mary wrenched free, her composure cracking.
"Everything you've given me?" Her voice rose. "Did I take it for free? I left my husband. I aborted children—because they were girls.”
Her eyes turned sharp.
“Stayed hidden for you. And now you want to act righteous?”
The room went quiet.
Claire froze, her hands still raised from the struggle.
Mary continued, her words tumbling off. "When I finally carried a boy, you played nice. You acted like nothing had changed."
She laughed bitterly. "Fuck you, Richard. I'm leaving."
Claire's vision blurred. ‘Children? Pregnant?’
She pushed through the servants and grabbed Mary by the collar, shoving Richard aside.
"What is she talking about?" Claire yelled hysterically
"Mary. What did you just say?"
Mary smoothed her uniform and lifted her chin.
"Since you know now," she said, "I might as well come clean."
“Mary!” Richard warned.
Mary ignored him. "Your dear husband has been having an affair. For years."
She watched Claire's face crumble with satisfaction
"You think you're so high and mighty. Looking down on me—your cousin, because I didn't marry into wealth like you."
Her lips curved up mockingly.
"The day you made me your servant, I decided I would take the one thing you always boasted about."
Her eyes glittered.
"While you played the devoted wife, Richard was busy fucking me. Planting his seeds in my womb. And now I've given him what you never could."
She let the words settle.
"I'm pregnant. With a boy."
Claire stumbled back as if she'd been struck.
Mary pried her hand off her collar, letting her fall.
"Everyone here knew." Mary gestured at the servants, who shifted uncomfortably. "You were the only one blind. Even Maya knew."
“Maya…?” Her voice cracked. “Even my own daughter…”
Claire turned to Richard. His face confirmed everything.
Mary crossed her arms. "Too bad you got involved in this mess. Now I have no choice but to abort the baby."
She glanced at Claire one last time. "You and your family can go to hell."
She turned toward the door.
Claire stayed on the floor for a long moment, her chest heaving.
Then, slowly, she raised her head.
"No." Her lips trembled. "You can go to hell."
She rose, grabbed the fruit knife from the side table. And lunged forward.
"Claire!" Richard shouted.