Chapter 153
Chapter 153:
Liam watched her drive away, the red taillights burning into his retinas. He felt a surge of adrenaline he hadn’t felt in years. She hadn’t said yes, but she hadn’t blocked his number.
High above, on the balcony of the guest room, Lydia Winthrop stood in the shadows. She had heard everything. She gripped the stone railing, her nails digging into the moss.
“She thinks she’s untouchable,” Lydia whispered.
She pulled out her phone. She dialed a number that was not saved in her contacts.
“It’s me,” Lydia said, her voice dropping the sweet, innocent act. “Plan B. The ex-wife is a problem. We need to accelerate the timeline p>
Skye got into her Ferrari. Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Gabriel Ross.
Gabriel: Just got the file on North Hill High. You were right. The yearbook is missing from the library, but I found a digital archive. Sending the photos now.
Skye opened the attachment. Two photos loaded on her screen. One was labeled Eleanor Thorne—a girl with soft eyes, a gentle smile, and a distinct mole under her left eye. She looked wealthy, kind, and completely unlike the woman scrubbing floors at Apex.
The second photo was labeled Sarah Jones. Skye zoomed in. It was her. The eyes were harder, the jaw set in a defiant sneer, but it was unmistakably the woman Skye knew as Seraphina. And then the note next to Sarah Jones’s name: Expelled: Junior Year. Reason: Assault with a deadly weapon.
Skye smiled. The engine of the Ferrari roared to life.
“Got you,” she whispered.
The morning sun hit the glass facade of Kensington Global headquarters, turning the building into a blinding pillar of light. Inside, Liam sat at his desk, staring at a calendar. He felt adrift. Skye’s rejection in the garden had been absolute, yet he couldn’t let go. He adjusted his tie. He needed a grand gesture. Something big. Something that said, “I am changing p>
His door burst open. He looked up, expecting his secretary.
Read without interruptions on be.com
It was Lydia.
She carried a wicker basket covered in a fading gingham cloth. She wore a white sundress that looked suspiciously like the one Skye had worn in a magazine shoot two years ago.
“Good morning, Liam!” Lydia chirped, breezing past his assistant, who was trying to stop her. “I brought muffins! I baked them myself. Blueberry, your favorite p>
Liam frowned. “I hate blueberry. I’m allergic to blueberries p>
Lydia froze mid-step. “Oh. Grandmother Beatrice said p>
“Beatrice doesn’t know anything about me,” Liam said coldly. “She knows what she wants me to be. Why are you here, Lydia p>
Lydia set the basket down on his desk, invading his workspace. She leaned over, giving him a view of her cleavage that was clearly calculated.
“I just wanted to see where you work,” she cooed. “And… I posted a little picture of us on Instagram. I hope you don’t mind p>
Liam grabbed his phone and opened Instagram. There it was: a photo of the Kensington Manor garden from last night. In the background, a blurry figure that was clearly him. The caption read: Late night talks in the garden. New beginnings. Kensington Blessed.