Chapter 3
She snatched up her phone and saw a news alert from the entertainment section.
[Vivian Sutton, the prima ballerina, returned to the country at 11 AM today.]
There was a blurry photo attached below the headline.
But even with the fuzzy image, Charlotte instantly recognized the man standing protectively by Vivian. It was James, the very same James who had just comforted her not long ago.
The whole situation felt surreal, wrapping her up like a nightmare she couldn't escape.
She refused to believe James could be so cruel.
Charlotte slipped past the servants and headed straight to the scene.
When she arrived, the place was in utter chaos.
The same man who had just comforted her was now shooting daggers at the paparazzi, barking at them to back off, all while protectively holding the woman in his arms.
The woman behind him kept out of sight. Even as they entered the hotel, all you could see was the hem of her dress.
Charlotte sat in her car, her heart felt like it was being ripped to shreds.
She just couldn't understand how someone could live such a double life.
He promised her everything with his words, but behind her back, it was all schemes and manipulation. Even after soothing her, he was desperate to run to the woman he really loved.
Her fingers trembled as she called James, her heart pounding with anxiety.
The phone rang three times, then he declined the call.
She kept calling, refusing to give up. He rejected her calls three times in a row.
It wasn't until the fourth call that he finally picked up.
Before she could say a word, James's voice came through, a little breathless. "I've got something to do tonight. I won't be coming home."
Just before the call was abruptly cut off, she heard the faint sound of a woman's low moan on the other end.
Charlotte's face went ghostly pale. She had to use every ounce of willpower to stop herself from storming in, kicking the door down, and catching them in the act.
Tears streamed down her face, and after the initial heartbreak and breakdown, she finally settled into a numb, hollow calm.
She sat in her car, torturing herself by replaying every moment of their three years together, unable to stop the memories from flooding in.
In a daze, she realized that all the so-called tenderness she thought was for her had always been about Vivian.
It wasn't until dawn broke that she saw James step out, dressed in fresh clothes.
When his eyes met hers, Charlotte quickly drove away, not wanting him to see her.
Once James was out of sight, the housekeeper carefully handed Charlotte the mask, wrapped up tight.
Charlotte tore the mask in half, the jagged edge cut her finger.
She let out a bitter laugh and dialed her brother.
The phone barely rang before he answered. "Baby girl, is something wrong?"
"Edward," Charlotte sobbed, hearing that familiar nickname, tears streaming down her face. "I was wrong."
"I want to come home," she whispered.
When Charlotte got back to their bridal suite, she was surprised to find James waiting for her in the living room.
Seeing how disheveled she looked, he rushed over, his face full of worry, and pulled her into his arms.
"The folks at the old house said you left last night. Where did you go? Why didn't you come home?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
Charlotte tilted her head back, forcing a bitter smile. She dodged his question and met his gaze head-on. "Did you finish your work?"
All traces of the entertainment news online had been scrubbed away, like it never even happened.
But Charlotte thought, as long as he was willing to tell her the truth, she'd give him one last chance.
But James just frowned, scooped her up, his face serious. "You're burning up. I'll get the doctor to check on you."
Every time their eyes met, he was the first to look away.
After the doctor finished checking her and hooked her up to an IV, Charlotte felt her eyelids grow heavy, but her mind was wide awake.
The doctor spoke up, his tone tight with concern.
"Mrs. Foster's health isn't good. For the past three years, after every time, you made her take those pills, just to be safe. The medication is harsh. The toll on her body is just too much. She can't take it anymore."
"And she's been wound so tight for so long. If this goes on, she's going to collapse."
Her heart leapt into her throat. She fought with everything she had to open her eyes, desperate to ask for the truth.
But her body felt like it was locked in place, no matter how hard she struggled, all she saw was darkness.
James gave the bed a dark look, his voice quiet, but you could hear the threat in it, no room for questions.
"This is the last time. Keep your mouth shut," he warned.