Falling to her side, I take her hand in mine. I sob viciously, violently, and I wail and moan and scream as pain like I’ve never felt before engulfs me entirely. I want to rage that I couldn’t save her. That I wasn’t in time. She suffered so much in her life and died with more suffering. Because of a psychopathic mother and a selfish brother.
If I’d been here, this wouldn’t have happened. If I weren’t so determined to piss off my mother, keeping my name in the tabloids as the badboy son to the jewelry heiress, I would’ve been here for her. I wanted to be as far away from my mother as possible. But that also left Rayna alone and unprotected.
Rayna was the last good one. She deserved a long happy life with love and a family. She deserved everything.
My eyes snap open from the memory. My teeth clench tightly with the still very fresh rage flowing through my veins, but determination sets in as well.
I grab my phone, calling my lawyer. I’ve learned life can be stolen in an instant, including mine. I want Heaven and our child to be taken care of. I also want to make sure neither of them are ever subjected to my mother.
After a quick shower, I grab my keys and head to my attorney’s office. I walk in and tell him what I want done. Unfortunately, it takes far longer to work everything out than I expected.
By the end of the meeting, I’m on edge. A feeling of dread has sunk low in my stomach. I’ve wanted to call Heaven to make sure she’s okay, but I forgot my phone back at my apartment. It’s past five, so I know my mother is there waiting on me. I just hope Heaven decided to stay in her dorms until I called. I do not want their paths crossing.
When I walk into the lobby of my building, Maddox is standing at the door with worry plain on his face.
“Where the hell have you been?” he asks when the elevator doors close.
“I was at my lawyer’s office. Forgot my phone upstairs.”
“Lawyer?” His eyes narrow almost in accusation.
“Not for anything like you’re thinking,” I growl. “I need everything in order to protect them.”
“From whom?”
“From Margret.”
“Did you get it straightened out?”
I give a sharp nod with my jaw clenched. “She won’t ever touch either of them. Did you see her downstairs by any chance?”
His eyes narrow again in suspicion. “Who? Margret? Why the hell would she be here?”
“Collecting money for Rayna’s charity.”
“I still can’t believe you trust her with that.”
“Believe me, I don’t. The trust is handled by my grandfather. She just collects the money.”
We step off the elevator and begin walking to my door. A cold chill settles over me. That feeling of dread, of impending doom grows tenfold.
I walk into my apartment and the sight of the woman sitting in the armchairin the living room with a glass of wine in her hand sends a shock of cold fury right through me. “How the fuck are you in here?” The animosity in my tone can’t be missed.
“I own this apartment,” she tells me coolly as she sips her wine.
“Sounds like I’ll be moving,” I growl. She doesn’t actually own the apartment. My grandfather does. If she plansto use that as her free access, however, I will absolutely move.
“Always so dramatic,” she says as she turns her gaze to Maddox. “How have you been, Mr. Masters?”
She doesn’t give a damn about Maddox. She only appreciates his name, and his family’s money. “I’ve been fine, Margret,” he tells her without any inflection of emotion. Maddox knows everything about her. He’ssawher manipulations and abuse on multiple occasions over the years. As even tempered as he is, he has said on more than one occasion that he wouldn’t have stopped that day. He would’ve kept going until he saw the light in her eyes vanish.
My mother’s lip curls. She does not appreciate Maddox referring to her by her given name, but she won’t say anything. Not to him.
“I don’t have time for your shit,” Ihiss. I begin walking to my bedroom to get the check she’s waiting on. When I open the book sitting atop my dresser, I see the check is already missing.
I storm angrily back to the living room. “Why are you here if you’ve already taken it upon yourself to get the check from my checkbook?” I yell.
“You’ll need to get me a new check,” she sips her wine again. I fight the urge to rip it from her hand and throw it across the room. “I used that check to take care of the problem you’ve found yourself in.” She taps my phone sitting on the table by the chair.
