Chapter 130

Chapter 130
Rhett's POV

Nicholas picked up his fork, changing the subject. "You've arranged these mercenaries for me. So the revenge isn't finished yet, is it?"

The police had arrested Thomas Smith from the charity organization, who'd confessed to involvement in my father's "accident." But that was just the beginning.

"Almost finished," I lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled a perfect smoke ring.

"Who's behind him?" Nicholas asked directly.

Through the haze of smoke, my expression darkened. "Someone we know."

If my calculations were correct, I knew exactly who.

"A familiar enemy in the shadows while you stand exposed. They're showing ambition now, but haven't revealed themselves, have they?" Nicholas turned to me. "Not easy to uncover."

"I have it under control." My smile was pleasant, but my eyes turned razor-sharp.

Nicholas snatched the cigarette from my fingers. I turned to him in surprise.

"You're too young to smoke this much," he scolded, extinguishing it. "Quit that habit and give me a great-grandson instead."

The mention of children made me smile genuinely, my eyes crinkling.

Nicholas noticed immediately. "What? Thinking about that Ross girl?"

I played with my lighter, raising an eyebrow. "Do you disapprove of her, Grandfather?"

"She hardly behaves like a proper society lady," Nicholas said, recalling my birthday celebration. "At the party, she managed to offend everyone at the table. That granddaughter-in-law of mine is quite something."

I laughed. "I actually like her character."

She was like a kitten—soft and sweet when she wanted to be, but ready to show her claws when necessary. That was my Sheryl.

Seeing the rare tenderness in my eyes, Nicholas shook his head. "In this, you're just like your father—completely devoted once you've chosen a woman."

I'd heard stories about my parents. When I was six, Ophelia had suffered a mental breakdown, and Kenneth had spared no expense building a private psychiatric facility for her care. Everyone expected him to take a new wife or at least keep mistresses—after all, wasn't that what wealthy, powerful men did? Especially when their wives were institutionalized.

But Kenneth had surprised everyone. He never took another woman. For more than a decade, he remained faithful—not even a whisper of scandal.

If not for this devotion to my mother, I might never have forgiven him for sending me alone to Italy, for all those years of neglect when he didn't seem to care whether I lived or died.

"It's both a blessing and a curse," Nicholas placed his hand on my shoulder, patting it twice. "Rhett, I just hope this woman doesn't become the gun pointed at your heart."

---

Nine o'clock at night, and Boston's sky was a canvas of darkness punctuated by scattered stars. I stepped out of the Hayes estate's grand entrance, spotting Jack waiting by the Rolls-Royce. He got out immediately and opened the door for me.

As the midnight-black luxury car glided away from the estate and onto the winding, tree-lined avenue, I settled into the leather seat, turning my phone between my fingers before making a call. It rang longer than I'd like—nearly fifteen seconds before she answered. My brow furrowed instinctively.

"Where were you?" I asked, not bothering to hide my impatience.

"Just got out of the shower," Sheryl's melodious voice came through clearly, and I could picture her wrapped in that silk robe she favors, her hair still damp. "When are you coming home?"

During dinner, I'd told her I needed to visit my grandfather at the estate. I'd invited her along, but she declined, knowing the old man barely tolerated her. I hadn't pressed the issue—it wasn't an important gathering anyway.

At the mention of her shower, my lips curved into a smile, automatically dismissing her question. "Why didn't you wait so we could shower together?"

My voice dropped to that husky tone I knew affected her, not caring that Jack was right there in the driver's seat. To his credit, my driver remained the perfect professional—when I didn't address him directly, he became invisible.

"Then I'll wait for you to come back and make a baby," she replied teasingly.

Her response deepened my smile, and I drummed my fingers against the seat with satisfaction. "Sheryl," I drawled, amusement thick in my voice, "I'm still with Grandfather having dinner, surrounded by people. Oh, and you're on speaker."

The silence that followed was exactly what I expected. I could practically see her face turning crimson.

"You... I..." she stammered.

"I'm kidding," I quickly interjected before she could hang up. "Just messing with you."

She sighed with relief. "Rhett, you're so childish!"

I laughed softly. "I miss you. Wait for me at home."

"So you do know how to be romantic," she said, a smile in her voice.

After ending the call, I instructed Jack to drive to Riverland Medical instead of home. I'd contacted Dr. Winters earlier that morning to confirm he had the latest contraceptive shot available—effective within an hour and lasting about five hours. Perfect for tonight's plans.

The medical center was quiet at this hour, with only a skeleton staff on duty. Dr. Winters was waiting for me in his private office as arranged.

"Mr. Hayes," he greeted me with a professional nod. "I have the injection ready as requested."

"Good. Let's get this over with," I said, removing my jacket.

As he prepared the syringe, Dr. Winters cleared his throat. "I should remind you that this is a short-term solution. One injection is effective for approximately five hours."

I nodded impatiently. I knew this already.

"For a more sustained approach," he continued while administering the shot, "I'd recommend regular hormonal injections, once every eight weeks. However, it would take two consecutive treatments before becoming fully effective."

The needle pinched slightly as it entered my arm. "Fine. Schedule it."

Once he finished, I put my jacket back on, noting with irritation the distinct antiseptic smell that now clung to my clothes. Sheryl's sense of smell was uncannily sharp—she'd notice immediately.

"Will there be anything else, Mr. Hayes?" Dr. Winters asked.

"No. Send the invoice to Anthony as usual." I headed for the door, then paused. "And Dr. Winters? This remains confidential."

His expression remained neutral. "As always, Mr. Hayes."

Back in the car, I directed Jack to Greystone Estate. If I was going home smelling of antiseptic, Sheryl would ask questions I wasn't ready to answer. The contraception was my choice for now—I needed more time before bringing a Hayes heir into this world. Not until I'd eliminated all threats.

At Greystone, I showered quickly and changed into a fresh black shirt, leaving the top buttons undone as usual. The estate felt hollow and cold—exactly how I wanted it. This place wasn't meant to feel like home; it was simply functional.

As Jack drove me back to Oakridge Estate, I found myself actually looking forward to seeing Sheryl. That realization both pleased and disturbed me. Attachment was weakness in my world, yet I couldn't deny the pull she exerted on me.