The Scapegoat Heiress's Grand Comeback

the dim hallway, and with it, the muffled sound of laughter. Not just any laughter.

, the faint creak of the hinges drowned ou

angled on the sofa, a half-empty bottle of champagne on the coffee table. Bella' s b

re the first to meet mine. His face,

rical, escaped her lips. She quickly pulled her leg back, clutching Hoyt' s arm as if I we

gaze avoiding mine. "Flora, what are you doing here?" His voice was rou

artment, Hoyt. Or did you forget that too? Just like you forgot

softly. "She sounds upset, darling. May

please. Bella is a guest. You're upsetting

And you brought her here? Into our sanctuary?" I swept my arm around the elegant room, the irony a cruel

nipulative charm returning. "Flora, be reasonable. I know you're hurt. We

repeated, my voice rising. "She's fragile? After she caused a DUI that you wanted me to take the

voice dropping to a seductive whisper, as if we were

ak, couldn't utter another word to this pathetic, lying man. I just tu

tle, every whispered endearment, a fresh stab to my already bleeding heart. I curled up on my bed, the darkness a w

ift in the bed. Hoyt. He smelled faintly of champagne and Bella' s sickl

ice thick with what sounded l

gning sleep. My body tense

am. Things got... complicated. But I still care about you. We can fix

to lash out, but I remained still, a statue of ice. He thought he could mend things

choed from the living room. "

bed, leaving me in the cold darkness. I heard his muffled apologi

laced with genuine concern, a stark contrast to t

d, filled with a tenderness he hadn't shown me in months. I lay there, alone, the sound of their comfort ampli

zling bacon. The aroma, once a comforting sign of a

a, perched on a stool, wearing one of my silk robes that hung loosely on her slender frame. Hoyt, at the stove, flip

ly dimmed, replaced by a practiced look of concern. "Oh, Flo

hand. He gave a weak, awkward sm

me some fresh orange juice? My throat is a little sore from all the...

es, moving to the fridge. "Of course,

es hardening. "He's really trying, you know," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial w

s type, Bella? Someone who crashes cars

s women who can help him. Women with ambition, with a platform. Someone who can stand by hi

ing the knife further. She k

"You think he cares about you? He cares about your social media following, your 'influencer

differently. He sees a future. A powerful future. You, Flora? You're a relic. A faded memory. He told me you wer

, the air knocked out of my lungs. Pity? He married me o

so old-fashioned. He needs someone vibrant, someone exciting. Someone who can give him an heir worthy of his future legacy. Someone

st about love or ambition for them. It was a transaction. A carefully orchestrated

la, seeing him, suddenly let out a yelp, stumbling backwards. She clutched her ar

liquid splattering everywhere. He rushed towards me, his hand raised. Before I could even register what

bled, my hand instinctively flying to my throbbing cheek. The taste o

hand on her? You twisted, jealous woman!" He cradled Bella in his arms,

out now, and don't come back. If you ever come ne

my cheek throbbing, my heart a raw, bleeding wound. My hand, almost unconsciously, went to my stomach, a fierce, primal inst