Chapter 7
But three days later, the Muttrie family dropped a fortune and bailed Simon out.
That night, I was on Clark’s balcony with a book when the doorbell rang.
I checked the monitor–Simon, in a suit, holding a giant bouquet of roses.
He wore that fake soft smile, like his courtroom meltdown never happened.
I laughed coldly and hit the intercom.
“Get lost.”
His smile twitched but he recovered fast, voice smooth.
“Heidi, I know you hate me. Just give me five minutes. Please. Face–to–face.”
I almost shut it off.
But then I thought–why make it easy for him?
I walked to the door and opened it just enough to leave the chain on.
Simon lit up the second I cracked the door. He stepped forward fast, but the chain stopped him.
“Heidi…”
His eyes dropped to the diamond necklace — Clark’s gift. His pupils shrank, but he forced a bitter smile.
“You’re really marrying him?”
I leaned on the frame, smirking.
“What, you think I’d marry the guy who nearly beat me to death?”
He went pale.
“No, Heidi, that wasn’t what it looked like–I lost it that day—‘
“A misunderstanding?” I yanked my collar down, showing the whip marks still healing.
“Ninety–nine lashes, Simon. You counted every one.”
