Chapter 25

Willow POV

He'd found out?

My heart plummeted.

I didn't hear the rest because I'd already gotten out of the car.

"Willow."

Suddenly, a voice I utterly despised rang out.

Straight ahead, a woman with exquisite makeup and luxury clothing approached.

"What a coincidence." Her gaze swept over the man's suit jacket on my shoulders—obviously not mine. Disdain crossed her face. "Looks like my dear sister's newlywed life is quite 'exciting.'"

My tone turned icy, utterly curt. "What's it to you?"

If anyone in this world earned my hatred, it was Gloria Brown.

Once my sister. Now the long-lost heiress of the Brown family fortune.

Ever since she'd returned to the Browns, she'd never looked after the Spencers who raised her.

Even the car accident that killed my father...

I clenched my fists, mocking her. "I heard your work got exposed for plagiarism. You should worry about winning that lawsuit. After all, the family's reputation is what matters most."

"You're still the same sanctimonious hypocrite!"

Gloria seethed. "Willow, what gives you the right to lecture me? Think marrying Charles makes you somebody?"

"He's just a trust-fund playboy living off family money. He has zero say in the Lancaster family. Sterling's the real master."

I looked at her like she was a circus act, unwilling to waste more time arguing.

I turned and walked away.

She shouted after me, unwilling to let it go. "Just wait. You won't be smiling for long."

From the rain, I'd come home with a pounding headache and fallen asleep in a daze.

The phone woke me.

My head throbbed. My whole body burned. My mind was foggy.

I fumbled for my phone and answered.

"Charlie, is the water temperature okay?"

A saccharine, affected woman's voice came through, words dripping with innuendo.

Rachel.

I instantly sobered up.

"Rachel, who told you to touch my phone!" Charles's angry voice erupted.

He sounded obviously panicked. "Willow, I..."

I didn't want to hear it. I hung up.

Now not only my head hurt—my heart ached too.

So he'd been with Rachel the whole time. That's why he never came to pick me up.

The phone rang again.

Charles calling.

He called several times in a row. I didn't answer.

Finally, he sent a text: [Willow, I'm sorry. I'm coming home right now.]

I found it laughable.

He always said sorry.

But never stopped hurting me.

Charles came back quickly, bringing dampness and obvious panic.

"Willow! You have a fever?" He reached out to feel my forehead.

I jerked my head away sharply.

His hand hung in midair. His expression looked hurt. "I didn't mean to make you wait. Rachel twisted her ankle, so I had to..."

"Enough."

I didn't want to hear more lies.

Charles stood. "I'll call the doctor."

The family doctor arrived quickly, examined me, and confirmed it was just a common cold and fever.

Charles stayed by the bed all night, caring for me attentively.

I could feel he genuinely cared.

But did he love me?

Maybe. But that didn't stop him from sleeping with another woman.

---

The next day my fever broke. I also received an email from the company I'd interviewed with.

I'd passed.

I could start Monday.

I felt a long-absent joy and decided to visit Grandma at the hospital to tell her the good news.

But I saw a familiar black Bentley parked by the roadside.

Gloria got out of the car, her face showing a gentleness I'd never seen before.

The person who got out next made me freeze completely.

Sterling wore a deep gray suit, his expression characteristically cold.

He walked into a high-end restaurant. Gloria followed him inside.

---

Sterling POV

"Mr. Lancaster, Ms. Spencer has been looking for work recently. Charles put out the word. Other companies don't dare hire her."

I frowned, eyes darkening.

Since when had Charles become such a bastard, using his influence to make his own wife's life difficult?

"Arrange for a small company to interview her."

I hadn't expected to run into Willow taking shelter from the rain the very next day.

I was hesitating whether to have Willow get in the car—maybe she was waiting for Charles.

In that brief moment, a man roughly dragged Willow toward an alley.

Inexplicable fury flooded through me.

I got out of the car, striding in that direction.

"Let her go." My voice was ice-cold.

The man recognized me, legs going weak with fear.

"Mr. Lancaster..."

"Get lost."

I had no patience for his excuses.

The man fled immediately.

I walked up to Willow.

Her face was pale, eyes red-rimmed, like a rose battered by a storm—pitiable.

Worse, her dress was soaked through, clinging tightly to her body, outlining her graceful curves.

My gaze lingered for a second before I removed my suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

She looked up at me, surprise and gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank you..." she said quietly.

I didn't respond, watching her body still trembling slightly. My mood darkened.

How was Charles taking care of her? He hadn't fulfilled a husband's responsibilities at all.

If I hadn't passed by today—

I suddenly wondered if I was paying too much attention to Willow.

Shouldn't I be finding that woman from that night and taking responsibility?

Willow was Charles's wife. I should keep my distance.

I stepped back, much colder. "Blake will take you home."

Blake called shortly after leaving.

"Mr. Lancaster, we've identified the woman from that night."

I opened the file Blake sent.

The name I'd expected didn't appear. Instead, a stranger.

Gloria Brown.