Chapter 113 One Hundred & Thirteen
Izzy’s chest tightened as she and Maya reached her apartment.
The quiet afternoon air did little to calm her nerves. She rubbed her stomach absently, still coming to terms with the news from the hospital. Maya gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, whispering, “We’ll handle everything once we get inside. First, let's get you inside”
But the moment they reached the door to Izzy’s apartment, a chill ran down her spine. The door was slightly open.
“Did you forget to lock the door?,” Izzy asked, her voice small, her hand hovering over the handle.
Maya’s brow furrowed. “ I did lock it.. Or did I? Stay here. Let’s go check it out.”
Maya pushed the door open, Izzy behind her. and the sight inside made Izzy freeze. Standing near the living room, arms crossed, perfectly poised, was Miranda Steele, Dominic’s mother. Her eyes, sharp and cold, immediately locked onto Izzy.
“Well, well… Ms. Hart,” Miranda said smoothly, her tone dripping with controlled amusement. “Finally you’re back. I was beginning to think I’d come drag you back myself.”
Izzy’s stomach dropped. Her hands shook slightly, and she stepped back instinctively. “Mrs. Steele… what…”
“You,” Miranda interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “This is quite… unexpected.” She tilted her head slightly, as if examining a painting she didn’t like. “I hope you realize the kind of… situation you’ve put yourself… and my son in.”
Maya stepped slightly forward, protective. “Hey old lady, I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re but I want you to leave.”
Miranda’s gaze flicked to Maya, then back to Izzy, unyielding. “Barbaric,” she said softly. “I.. you and I need to have a serious conversation.”
Izzy felt her stomach twist, a mix of fear, anger, and uncertainty. She glanced at Maya, who gave her a small, steadying nod.
“I… I think you should leave,” Izzy said, trying to keep her voice calm, even though her heart was racing.
Miranda smiled thinly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I’m afraid this isn’t a simple visit, Ms. Hart. We have… matters to discuss.”
Izzy’s hand instinctively went to her stomach. The news from the hospital, the pregnancy… now, with Miranda here, everything felt suddenly heavier.
Maya’s voice was firm. “You’ve got nothing to discuss here, get out. Leave now.”
Miranda tilted her head, eyes sharp, like a predator sizing up her prey. “I’m not leaving until I’ve made my point clear,” she said, voice low and dangerous.
Izzy’s breath caught in her throat. She looked between Maya and Miranda, panic and determination warring inside her.
“I suspected this the moment I heard about your little hospital trip,” Miranda said, stepping closer, eyes narrowed and cold. “When I got the call to confirm my suspicion… I laughed. Truly, Ms. Hart… what a whore you are.”
Izzy froze, the insult burning through her. Her mind raced, panic and fury colliding.
“How… how did you know I was in the hospital?” she managed to whisper, her hands balling into fists.
Miranda smirked, tilting her head, her gaze calculating. “I had you followed… And tell me, darling… how sure are you that this child even belongs to my son?”
Izzy’s stomach dropped. Heat and fear mingled, her mind spinning. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Every breath felt heavy, every heartbeat loud in the tense, suffocating silence.
Maya stepped forward, voice low but fierce. “You have no right to talk to her like that. Leave, now.”
Miranda’s smile didn’t waver. “Oh, I have every right, and I will have my answers. Don’t think for a second that this changes anything. My son… and my family… will not get embarrassed by careless mistakes.”
Izzy’s pulse hammered in her ears, the weight of the accusation pressing down. She glanced at Maya, her eyes wide, searching for a lifeline.
And in that moment, the apartment felt smaller, the walls closing in around her. She realized that it was a battle for her life, her future, and her unborn child.
Her hands trembled. Her heart raced. And somewhere deep inside, a seed of defiance began to grow.
But before she could speak, Miranda stepped even closer, her tone sharp and deliberate.
“You will answer me, Ms. Hart… or you want your poor mum to know she gave birth to a useless slut.”
Izzy’s throat tightened, the weight of it all crashing over her like ice water.
How had she allowed this? How had she stood there while this woman tore into her… dragged her mother into it.. like she was nothing?
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
“Don’t you dare talk about my mom,” she said, her voice trembling… but not with weakness. With fury.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anger and humiliation twisting together until something inside her hardened. She lifted her chin, meeting Miranda’s cold stare head-on, refusing to shrink.
Miranda’s expression didn’t soften.
“Don’t you dare think of pinning that child on my son,” she replied, her voice low and razor-sharp. Controlled. Calculated. Every word deliberate. “I won’t allow it.”
The accusation hung in the air like poison.
Before Izzy could even gather her thoughts, Miranda calmly reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a sleek checkbook. The movement was slow, intentional…
She scribbled something down, then with a flick of her wrist, dropped the check onto the table between them. It slid across the polished surface and stopped just inches from Izzy’s hand.
“This covers your hard work so far,” Miranda said coldly, her eyes never leaving Izzy’s face. “Consider it… compensation.”
The insult burned deeper than the accusation.
Without another word, Miranda turned sharply on her heel. The sharp click of her heels echoed through the apartment as she walked past Izzy… close enough that Izzy could smell her expensive perfume… yet not sparing her another glance.
And just like that, she was gone.