Chapter 30 DON’T BE LATE…

Chapter 30 DON’T BE LATE…
HAYLEY

Somebody please ask the Lord why He always thrusts me into situations that are bound to make my ass sweat. I promise I’m not his strongest soldier or anything.

I thought I was over my hatred for the DaSilva family, but one look at Aunt Susan and Victoria’s fake ass smiles and all the distaste I fought to keep hidden resurfaces with a vengeance.

“Hayley, meet my family.” Peter does the introductions; “this is Susana, my sister, and Edward, my nephew and our family’s heir.” 

I lift my chin, flashing Aunt Susan a tight smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

She returns the smile, hers even stiffer than mine. “My pleasure.”

When Mr. Davenport said his family was difficult and rooted in old principles, I should have guessed he was referring to the DaSilva’s. No wonder he decided to run away. I have witnessed the DaSilva family cruelty first hand. I do not recommend.

It’s getting harder to ignore the devil in the room. So finally, I turn to Edward and allow myself to drink him in.

Five years changed him. 

He’s still devastatingly handsome, unfairly so. But his features are sharper, as if carved into an impossibly refined piece of cold marble. 

His frame is noticeably broader beneath the perfectly cut precision of his suit. There’s a quiet, glacial authority around him, an aura that makes him seem almost untouchable.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. DaSilva.” I lie through my teeth.

His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I’m convinced that he can see into the tangled depths of my soul.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“Dean and Edward are half brothers.” Peter adds out of nowhere.

My stomach dips.

“Wait, what?” I blurt before I can stop myself. 

When Peter raises one brow at my exaggerated reaction, I double down, flashing a small grin. “Uh… they don’t look anything alike so I was a little… surprised.”

Peter nods, oblivious of the war he just ignited. “That’s fine.” He turns to Aunt Susan, “Hayley is officially a member of our family. I hope you treat her like your own daughter.”

I almost laugh at the absurdity of that statement. 

There’s a higher possibility that pigs could start laying eggs.

Edward keeps his eyes trained on me, even when Peter turns to talk to him about the tanking stock market.

No longer able to pretend like I’m not falling apart on the inside, I excuse myself, muttering something about going to the ladies.



“Scarlett, I’m telling you, it’s awful.” I press my cellphone to my ear, updating my bestie about the catastrophic turn of events. “This is literally the worst day of my entire life.” 

Three minutes later, I emerge from the fancy stall… and nearly suffer a full blown heart attack at the sight of a tall, dark figure leaning against the sinks.

“Edward.” I clutch my chest, almost doubling over. “What the fuck are you doing in the ladies’ bathroom? You almost scared me to death.”

He doesn’t say a word.

He just… stares, both hands fixed in his pockets while his eyes roam every inch of my body, as if committing this version of me to memory.

When my raging heartbeat finally relaxes a little bit, I become acutely aware of other things — like the fact that Edward and I are the only people inside this bathroom. 

My eyes dart to the door, my mind mapping out plans, just in case I might end up having to make a quick escape.

“John is manning the hallway.” His deep voice reverberates throughout the room, as if reading my mind. “No one will come in here. Not until we’re done.”

For a split second, a sharp feeling pierces my chest, one I recognize as fear.

Taking a deep breath to hide my discomfort, I walk to the wash basin and turn on the faucet with a calmness I do not feel.

“Are you expecting anyone else? Because I’m leaving the moment I’m done.”

“Today is the worst day of your life.” My heart flutters as he repeats my words from earlier, turning slightly to give me his full attention, “could that be because of me?”

I have no idea where he’s going with this. His eyes are ice cold and unreadable per usual.

“I don’t know. Take a wild guess.”

I start towards the door but he steps in front of me, completely blocking my path. 

We’re standing so close, I can see the steady pounding of his pulse against his throat. Close enough that his familiar saffron scent teases my nostrils, bringing back a flood of memories I would rather keep hidden.

Stay strong, Hayley. 

“Get out of my way.” 

“No.” One word, but it’s enough to send my heart pressure spiking through the roof.

He edges forward, stealing what little personal space I had left. So close that my breasts brush against his chest, and all it would take to have my lips on his is just a little wicked tilt of my head.

I am fully aware that we’re playing a very dangerous game, but I would much rather pluck off my coochie hairs one after the other than give Edward the satisfaction of stepping back.

“Get out of my way, Mr. DaSilva.”

He leans downwards, his hot, minty breath caressing my left ear;

“Let’s not forget that you still owe me, Hayley. A debt you will never be able to fucking repay. Or do you think I forgot?”

My guts twist with pain.

“I don’t owe you shit.” I mutter through clenched teeth, fighting the guilt that tries to claw up my throat.

He scoffs. The bastard scoffs.

“Showing up here on another’s man arm does not erase the fact that you’re rightfully mine. Always has been.”

Anger tears through my pain, sharp and deep.

“Maybe you’re suffering from memory loss, Mr. DaSilva.” I lean back, cutting him a death stare.

“Need I remind you that I was yours once, but you took me for granted. Whatever we had died a long, long time ago. I belong to someone else now.”

Goosebumps erupt on my skin as his fingers trace my left hand.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your body says another. Which should I believe?”

I open my mouth to speak but he grabs my arm, hauling my entire frame against his brick wall of a chest.

“I searched for you for years, Hayley.” He growls, his eyes bleeding with dangerous darkness;

“It felt like hunting something I wasn’t even sure was real. Running from me was your biggest mistake.”

I snatch my hand from his grip.

“You’re delusional if you think you can scare me. Like I said before, it is over between us. Dead and buried. Do well to keep your hands to yourself.”

I step around him, breathing a sigh of relief when he doesn’t try to stop me.

My fingers barely skim the door handle when his voice cuts through the air;

“We need to talk. John will reach you with a private jet by midnight. It’ll take you to my penthouse in Abu Dhabi. Don’t be late…”