2025-11-20 03:21:18
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After the meal, Sadie offered to help with the dishes while Lauren decided to follow Charles’ father to the factory. He seemed genuinely happy to have her along. “It’s the only thing he’s built all his life,” Charlotte muttered, arranged some of the dishes in the plate holder. “I feel like he loves that place more than he loves me. If it could become a child, he’d pour all his love into it.” Sadie chuckled softly, keeping her voice low. “But Charlotte, they don’t seem like they’d get mad if you mentioned Charles,” she whispered. “That’s because you haven’t. They think he’s dead. They don’t want to talk about him.” “He…never sent money home?” Sadie asked, hesitating. “I mean, Charles.” “Someone did. An anonymous, untraceable account—about a million Canadian dollars every month. The first deposit came ten days after we couldn’t find him. Dad tried to track it but failed. That money…he used it to start the factory. We haven’t touched it since. I’d guess it’s around five hundred mil
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“She’s a fan,” Lauren said quickly, lying smoothly. “We came here for a secret fan meet, then begged her for a place to stay—we couldn’t deal with the paparazzi online.” “You two must have a hard time,” Charles’ mother said softly, her eyes lingering on Sadie. “This is why I never wanted Charlotte to become a musician—or whatever she wants. Imagine this happening to her… that fragile girl.” Lauren laughed lightly. “Even though my family’s already popular, my mom worried when I said I wanted to be more famous. I get exactly what you’re feeling.” “You see?” Charles’ mother said, her voice firm but gentle. “All I want for her is to finish college. I don’t care if she struggles, fails even—let her finish. After that, she can join her father’s company or do whatever she wants.” “Oh, that’s cool. What do you produce in the factory?” Lauren asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Pastries, mostly,” Charles’ mother said, pride shining in her eyes. “Bread, cakes… all kinds. It’s my little wor
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“Are you celebrities?” the driver asked, glancing in the rearview.Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You’re pretending not to know, right? Either way, neither of us is signing anything. Don’t even think about begging.”“But I don’t…”Sadie shook her head. Trust Lauren—always ready to pick a fight.Ten minutes later, the car pulled up in front of a spacious bungalow.“Here,” Lauren said, handing Sadie a pair of sunglasses.“What…?”“Just put them on. Makes them curious. Gives off that…intimidating energy. If they don’t want to see us, at least they’ll wonder,” Lauren explained.Charlotte added softly, “If you hint you’re a celebrity too, they might actually listen for a bit longer.”Sadie slipped the sunglasses on, heart racing. How did she end up here? Charles had no idea. He’d either be furious or completely shocked if he found out. The thought made her shiver.“This is a bad idea, no matter how I spin it,” Sadie whispered to Lauren as they walked to the door.A cat sprang out from nowhere,
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“I’m a bit nervous,” Sadie whispered to Lauren as they pulled away from the airport.Lauren glanced at her with a smirk. “Nervous? Come on, it’s not like you’re going to meet your in-laws. And even if you were, why would that scare you?”Sadie chewed her lip. “What if they don’t like me… when I get there?”“Why do you need them to like you?” Lauren asked, raising an eyebrow.Sadie hesitated. “Lauren… if they don’t… I mean, what if they start snapping at me? Asking why I kept him all these years while they were out there looking for him?”Lauren shook her head, half amused. “You’ve totally lost it.” She squinted ahead. “Hey, is that you?” She waved at someone approaching. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, even though you said you’re in my mentorship class.”Sadie followed her gaze. Charlotte was walking toward them, calm but purposeful.“I was supposed to have a call with you next week,” Charlotte said, smiling. “I fell into the last batch.”“Oh, that’s it?” Lauren replied casually.
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Thomas didn’t wait — he slammed into Charles and knocked him down. Charles hit the ground and, weirdly, looked like he’d been waiting for it. Like he wanted someone to stop him.He lay there, flat, not moving. For a second Thomas thought he’d gone too far.“You still alive?” Thomas muttered. “This place is perfect for a crime. I could toss you in the water and say you drowned.”A low grunt answered him. Thomas flicked his phone’s torch on and peered at Charles’s face. His eyes were open, staring up at the sky.“You know,” Charles said, voice thin, “when I was a kid my brother used to say each star is someone who’s dead.”Thomas stood there, dumbstruck. Even psychopaths don’t flip moods like that after almost killing someone. “Do you think my brother could be one of those stars?” Charles asked, like a man slipping.“I don’t believe in that crap,” Thomas snapped, but his voice had lost some of its edge. “If it helps you, fine. It doesn’t help you right now, though, you crazy bastard.”
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Thomas rode with his crew that night, more for laughs and old habit than anything else. They were trading stories — one about a cop who dozed off on shift and turned into a volcano when called out.“I mean, he should just own up, but he won’t,” one of them said, grinning.“Would you admit that kind of allegation?” the man in question shot back, offended.“Woah,” the driver muttered as headlights swept past them. A car streaked by, fast and raw. “That one’s flying.”“Step on it,” Thomas said, voice low. “Let’s teach ‘em a lesson.”“Only idiots drive like that,” one of the guys laughed.“He looks like he’s racing to kill someone,” another added. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s a criminal.”“You just want an excuse to earn overtime,” someone teased.“He’s waiting at the light,” the driver observed, braking slightly so they didn’t barrel through the intersection.“Corner him,” Thomas said, eyes hard. “I’d love a chat.”“He’ll never try this again,” the driver snorted, revving the engine as
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