Cha
Wyatt’s dark eyes flashed with desire, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he growled under his breath, “You’re playing your fire. You know Sloan’s just down the hall.
Carol grabbed his hand, quiding it beneath the lace while her lips curled into a smirk. “Tan’t that what makes it even more exciting? You say no, but your body tells a different story.”
Her words were cut off when Wyatt’s mouth crashed against hers
Fabric tore as Wyatt pulled at the flimsy lace, leaving it in shreds on the floor. Their moans echoed through the empty house
Sloan stood in the shadows, her heart shattering into pieces. She had known–somewhere deep down, she had always known about them–but seeing it with her own eyes was an entirely different kind of pain.
Their sounds of pleasure stabbed at her like knives, each one cutting deeper until blood pooled in her chest, squeezing her heart.
She sank to the floor, pressing her forehead to her knees to stifle her sobs.
Six years of devotion–gone in an instant.
Carol had always flaunted her connection with Wyatt, always challenged Sloan with that smug look. Sloan had ignored it, convinced that Wyatt loved her more. She had done everything for him, molding herself into the perfect partner, meeting his every need.
Wyatt had made her feel like the luckiest woman alive.
But this? This was a loss she couldn’t recover from.
At some point, Sloan picked herself up from the floor and returned to the bedroom. She grabbed the carefully wrapped gift she had prepared earlier that day and tossed it into the
trash.
Anything tainted should’ve been thrown away long ago. From now on, she would start purging every trace of him from her life.
Maybe it was the wild night they’d had–because by morning, the house was swarming with staff. The maids were whispering among themselves, eyeing the closed study door with knowing glances.
When Sloan approached, they scattered, nervously trying to divert her attention.
Ignoring them, Sloan pushed open the door.
Inside, Wyatt and Carol were curled up on the couch together.
Their clothes were intact, suggesting they’d cleaned up and fallen asleep afterward.
Wyatt’s eyes flew open. He bolted upright, barking at the staff, “Get out!”
Then he turned toward Sloan, his face softening into that practiced look of concern. “Babe,
don’t get the wrong idea. Carol is my sister. Her foot was hurting, so I gave her some massage. We must’ve fallen asleep afterward.”
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Ignoring them, Slown pushed open the door
Inside, Wyatt and Carol were curled up on the couch together
Their clothes were intact, suggesting they’d cleaned up and fallen asleep afterward.
Wyatt’s eyes flew open. He bolted upright, barking at the staff, “Get out!”
Then he turned toward Sloan, his face softening into that practiced look of concern. “Babe, don’t get the wrong idea. Carol is my sister. Her foot was hurting, so I gave her some massage. We must’ve fallen asleep afterward.”
The head maid stepped forward, backing him up. “It’s true, Miss Sloan. I brought the ointment myself. Mr. Wyatt was exhausted from work–he must’ve dozed off.”
Sloan’s gaze hardened as it swept over the maid.
So they all knew.
Everyone in this house had known for a long time–and yet they’d all lied to her.
Her stomach twisted with disgust. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up until her throat burned. Her reflection in the mirror was ghostly pale, stripped of the grace and poise
she had once taken pride in.
