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?”

Hawthorne came?” Before Cedric could finish, he was sliced by Remington’s glare. A cold sweat

off Cedric’s helping hand and turned to go inside, slipping on his missing shoe with a

get her

the bedroom, Evelina was still pale and listless on the couch. Upon seeing Remington enter without

explain everything to her? Do I need to

her stomach. Remington’s handsome face was back to

off sharply;

asked, “Who let you

The door was open when I got here. I’m sorry, Remington. I had no idea Lizetta was here. If I had

scratch marks on her arms and

in pain, her hands trembling as

she was carrying, so he softened his voice and said firmly, “Don’t bother! And the injury on my arm wasn’t from defending you. Don’t

gaze and ordered, “Cedric, help Ms. Hawthorne downstairs to wait for the ambulance; don’t let

not minding Evelina’s reaction, and dragged her off the couch and out. Remington picked up his phone and headed to the study. When he called Lizetta, she had already driven two streets away, not wanting

with a sneer, “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 you. If it weren’t for Evelina jumping

the phone. If it weren’t for the sound like knuckles cracking, Lizetta would’ve