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?”

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

to go inside, slipping on his missing shoe with a

her

Evelina was still pale and listless on the couch. Upon seeing Remington enter without Lizetta behind him, Evelina breathed a sigh of relief, her

you explain everything to her? Do I need

her stomach.

off sharply; this mess was only getting messier.

throbbing temples, he asked, “Who let you in, and

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

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

twisted in pain, her hands trembling as she

“Don’t bother! And the injury on my

and ordered, “Cedric, help Ms. Hawthorne

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 to

said 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

it weren’t for the sound like knuckles cracking, Lizetta would’ve thought the line had cut