Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Chapter 42

Evelina clambered off the couch, green with envy, and took a few swings at it with her clanched fists.

Lizetta had rolled up in Yolanda’s second–hand Chevy, and when Remington dashed out of the villa, all he caught was the tall lights cutting a swath through the yard as the car sped off.

He was sweating buckets from the fever, and a shiver ran through him as the cold wind hit.

“Boss! What the heck’s going on? Let me help you inside.”

Cedric came running over; his car was parked in the shadows outside the villa. Seeing Lizetta arrive, he was put at ease.

He set an alarm to remind him in an hour – if Lizetta was still there by then, he could call it a night with mission accomplished.

But who would’ve thought, just by snoozing a bit, it seemed like he missed the main event? Seeing the boss, in pajamas, one slipper missing and a thunderous look on his face, Cedric was shook.

He’d been with Remington for eight years and had never seen him in such a sorry state. Cedric used to think that if the sky fell, Mr. Dashiell would hold it up with his mouth, never losing his cool.

Remington’s eyes were icy as he glared at Cedric, “How did Evelina get here?”

Before Cedric could finish, he was sliced by Remington’s glare. A cold sweat broke out on

on his missing shoe with a poker face a few steps away,

her out of

Remington enter without Lizetta behind

explain everything to her? Do I need to help

her stomach. Remington’s handsome face was back to its usual calm and cool,

Evelina off sharply; this mess was

let you in, and how

one sent me. Remington, you got hurt because of me. I was worried and wanted to check on you. The door was open when I got here. I’m sorry, Remington. I had no idea Lizetta

so, she revealed more of the scratch marks on her arms and under her clothes – a

trembling as

Still, Remington didn’t want any trouble for the kid she was carrying, so he softened his voice and said firmly, “Don’t bother! And the injury on my arm wasn’t

face turned even paler, wounded as she looked at Remington, who detachedly averted his gaze and ordered, “Cedric, help Ms. Hawthorne downstairs to wait for the ambulance; don’t let anything happen to the

picked up his phone and headed to the study. When he called Lizetta, she had already driven two streets away, not

“Remington, when the hell are you going to sign the divorce papers? I can’t wait another day! This clingy, dragging–it–out act isn’t like

the other end of the phone. If it weren’t for the sound like knuckles cracking, Lizetta would’ve thought the line had cut