Chapter 12: The Broken Trust
[Sarah]
The elevator doors opened to darkness. Only a single lamp illuminated the vast expanse of the Pierce penthouse living room, casting long shadows across Italian marble. My borrowed cocktail dress whispered against my legs as I tried to slip past quietly.
“Come here.”
Theodore’s voice sliced through the darkness, low and dangerous. My heart slammed against my ribs as I spotted him by the window, the city lights casting him in silhouette. His black dress shirt melted into the shadows, but I could feel the intensity of his stare even across the room.
“I have an early class,” I managed, but the words felt weak even to my own ears. The nausea that had plagued me all evening coiled tighter in my stomach.
“Now.”
That single word held enough command to make my skin prickle. I found myself moving closer despite every instinct screaming to retreat, like a moth drawn to a flame that would surely burn me.
His hand shot out with startling speed, fingers circling my wrist. The sudden contact sent electricity racing through my veins. “You’ve been drinking.”
“I haven’t.” The lie fell from my lips automatically, even as the faint trace of alcohol on my borrowed dress betrayed me.
His grip tightened, thumb pressed against my racing pulse. “Don’t.” His voice dropped to a whisper that felt more intimate than a shout. “Lie. To. Me.”
“You’re hurting me.” I meant it to sound defiant, but it came out breathless.
Instead of letting go, he pulled me closer. I could feel the heat radiating from him as he inhaled deeply, his breath ghosting across my skin. “The alcohol is only on your dress.” His eyes darkened dangerously. “Along with other men’s cologne.”
I tried to step back, but his grip was steel wrapped in silk. “Let go.”
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Chapter 12: The Broken Trust
“Who were you meeting?” Each word dripped with barely contained fury.
“That’s none of your business.” My voice shook with a mixture of fear and something far more dangerous.
“Everything about you is my business.” He pulled me even closer, until I could see the muscle jumping in his jaw. “You’re my wife.” O
“On paper.” I spat the words like venom, even as my body betrayed me by responding to
his proximity.
“Change.” He released my wrist suddenly, leaving my skin burning where he’d touched me. “That dress reeks of other men’s attention.”
“No.” I rubbed my wrist, anger and adrenaline making me reckless. “You don’t get to
dictate what I wear.”
What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. His hand caught the delicate silk of my dress. One sharp movement, and the sound of tearing fabric cracked through the air like a gunshot. The borrowed designer dress split from hip to hem, leaving me exposed
and trembling.
“You’re insane.” My voice shook with rage and something darker, more primal. I backed away, clutching the ruined fabric. “Completely insane.”
a text from
I fled to my room, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frame. Only then did I allow the tears to fall, hot and angry against my cheeks. My phone buzzed James Grant to Theodore, accidentally copied to our group chat:
—
“Sarah left before dinner was served. Wouldn’t even accept a glass of water. You’re seeing
threats where none exist.”
I deleted the message, but not before noting Theodore’s read receipt. The truth wouldn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter except his need for control.
A soft knock interrupted my bitter thoughts.
“Miss Sarah?” Mrs. Thompson’s gentle voice carried through the door. “I’ve brought some dinner. You need to eat something.”
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Chapter 12: The Broken Trust
I opened the door just enough to let her in, conscious of my torn dress and tear–stained face. She set down a covered tray, then hesitated.
“Mr. Pierce… he regrets his actions.”
“Does he?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice. “Did he tell you that himself?”
“He didn’t need to.” She straightened my bedding with practiced efficiency. “I’ve known him since he was a boy. He’s not good at showing it, but he worries.”
“He has a funny way of showing concern.”
“The dress…” She paused delicately. “It wasn’t yours to begin with, was it?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “I borrowed it from the PR department. I can’t exactly afford it
on my own.”
Her eyes softened with understanding. “I’ll have it repaired.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll figure something out.” I sank onto the edge of the bed, suddenly
exhausted. “Is it true that Elizabeth is leaving hospital tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Thompson hesitated again. “And she’ll expect certain… standards to be
maintained.”
“Of course she will.” I pressed a hand to my churning stomach. “Heaven forbid anything
disturb the perfect Pierce family image.”
“Try to eat something,” she urged, moving toward the door. “Even just the soup.”
After she left, I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror. The torn dress, the slight
tremor in my hands, the pallor that had nothing to do with tonight’s confrontation and
everything to do with the twins I carried – secrets piling upon secrets.
My phone buzzed again. Theodore: “We’re not finished discussing this.”
I turned the phone face down without replying. He was right about one thing – we weren’t finished. But not in the way he imagined. Something had broken tonight, and I wasn’t sure it could be repaired.
In the dark quiet of my room, I could hear him moving around in his study, probably
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making calls to discover exactly who I’d met with tonight. Let him investigate. He’d find nothing improper – just a desperate daughter trying to save her father’s legacy without sacrificing her self–respect.
The twins fluttered, too early for true movement but I felt them all the same. “I won’t let anyone control us,” I whispered to my unborn children. “I promise.”
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He already knows because of surveillance he has on her. Does he really believe she will tell him anything after the way he treated her when he woke up or locked her in her room???She doesn‘…
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