Chapter 11
“Out of the country?!”
Declan shot to his feet, his voice sharp as a blade. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Mrs. Hawthorne clearly hadn’t expected such an intense reaction. Her eyes flickered, and her voice faltered, “I–I didn’t mean it like that. Just… forget I said anything.”
She turned abruptly, trying to leave the room.
But Declan was faster.
In an instant, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path completely. He didn’t say a word—but his stance said everything. He wasn’t moving until she gave him an answer.
Mrs. Hawthorne felt a flicker of irritation. All this fuss over Marissa? Was that really worth turning
against his own mother?
“That’s right. She left the country,” she said, her voice cool. “What of it?”
And just like that, the pieces clicked into place for Declan. Her odd behavior, her evasiveness… it all
made sense now.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like he might shatter a tooth.
Mrs. Hawthorne arched a brow and walked calmly over to the dining table, taking a seat like she had
all the time in the world. She shot him a side glance, then smiled faintly at the storm brewing on his
face.
“Declan, don’t be so dramatic. What do you mean, ‘where did I send her‘? She’s not a captive. She’s
a grown woman.”
“And frankly, someone like her should be grateful for the opportunities our family gave her. If it weren’t for the Hawthornes funding her education, who knows where she’d be right now?”
“She got to finish school. Now she has the chance to travel abroad. Sounds like a win to me. And to her, too–she said yes without hesitation.”
Declan’s heart sank.
He’d known his mother might’ve interfered–but he never expected that Marissa would agree to leave. Willingly.
Chapter 11
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“No,” he whispered, his face going pale. “That’s not possible.”
For all her coldness, Mrs. Hawthorne still softened a little at the sight of her son completely wrecked.
“Declan, if those women could leave you that easily, then maybe they were never meant to stay. You’re the only heir to Hawthorne Holdings–there are plenty of women dying to marry into this family. Why keep wasting your time on the same two?”
After leaving the estate, Declan drove straight to the most exclusive club in Westbridge Heights.
Inside a private lounge, he downed glass after glass of whiskey, the table already littered with empty bottles. He’d had so much, his vision had started to blur.
Across from him, Tristan looked torn. After hesitating a long moment, he finally spoke. “Declan, come on. You need to stop. The doctor said no more binge drinking–especially after the accident.”
The others chimed in, trying to get him to slow down. But no one dared to mention Marissa’s name.
They kept trying, repeating the same gentle warnings, but Declan didn’t respond. He just kept drinking, glass after glass, like he couldn’t feel a damn thing.
Tristan gave up. He grabbed his phone and made a call.
When Celeste saw his name flash on the screen, she was caught off guard. Ever since she returned
to the country, she’d sensed the silent judgment in Tristan’s circle.
She knew exactly why they didn’t like her. But frankly, she didn’t care.
So long as Declan didn’t mind, what anyone else thought was irrelevant.
The call rang for a while. Then she finally picked up. “What is it?”
“Declan’s drunk. Can you come talk to him?”
The second she heard Declan’s name, Celeste didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her keys and rushed
over.
When she arrived at the lounge, Declan was already slumped over the table, completely out cold.
She stared at the sea of empty bottles and felt a jolt of alarm.
Chapter 11
