Chapter 10

Inside the hotel's large private room.

Kieran had just left, and Noah went after him.

Now, only Zachary and Heather were left.

Heather wasn't naive - she could feel something was off. She grabbed her violin and headed for the door. "Mr. Harper, I'll be taking my leave now."

She had barely reached the exit when Zachary jerked his chin, and the two bodyguards at the door instantly blocked her way.

With a half-smile, Zachary said, "Did Miss Yates not hear me? Kieran already passed you over to me."

Heather's grip on the violin case tightened.

She forced a calm smile and replied, "Come on, Mr. Harper, stop joking. Mr. Foster made it clear - I'm his ex. Since we're over, he doesn't get to decide who I'm with anymore."

"Oh, Heather, don't make me force you."

Zachary's tone was casual, but the threat in his words couldn't be clearer.

Heather swallowed hard and looked at him. "What exactly do you want?"

"That little trick you pulled to call off our engagement back then? I'll let it slide for tonight. You're here to perform, right? Working for tips? Drink this, and you're free to go."

Heather frowned. "That's all you want?"

Regardless of whether it was a trap or not, she didn't have much choice now.

If drinking gave her even the slightest chance to get out, she had to take it.

Before coming, she'd already downed hangover and allergy meds just in case.

So she tilted her head back and finished that glass of liquor in one go.

She flipped the glass upside down, bone dry. "Mr. Harper, that enough for you?"

"Bravo!" Zachary clapped, a hint of amusement lighting up his eyes. "Didn't expect that from someone as soft-spoken as you. Bold move."

Heather gave him a polite nod. "Glad we're clear, then. I'll head out."

The two bodyguards at the door didn't budge.

"What's the meaning of this?" she asked, tone sharpening.

Zachary leaned back with a lazy grin, eyes tracing over her. "Foster's done with you. Why not be with me? It's been six years. Funny how you always want what you couldn't have. Especially when it's something this..." he gave her a once-over, eyes dark with intent, "...tempting."

His words made Heather's face flush, but not from embarrassment. It was that heat again. Her whole body suddenly felt like it was burning from the inside out.

She glanced back at the glass suspiciously. "What did you put in it?"

"Just something to...liven things up."

Zachary waved his hand, and the two bodyguards stepped outside.

Heather backed away, voice trembling with rage. "Zachary, you're disgusting."

Zachary only sneered. "Please. A girl like you, already used by another man - me wanting you is a favor. You should be grateful. Do you have any idea how many women try to get into my bed? Now you've got the chance. Don't waste it."

Heather felt like throwing up. "Oh, so I'm secondhand goods? Then tell me, Mr. Harper, how many hands have you passed through? Don't kid yourself - you're not exactly prime real estate. To me, you're not even worth rotten leftovers."

Zachary's tone turned icy. "Your mouth is the only tough thing about you."

He grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the big round table, reaching to tear her dress apart.

The disgust and shame hit Heather like a wave, boiling into rage.

"Kieran can't stand anyone touching what's been his - even if he's thrown it away. You sure you're not afraid of what he'll do to you?"

She was bluffing, desperate to stall him.

But Zachary, the infamously bold troublemaker from Westhaven, just sneered and slapped her lightly on the cheek. "Still dreaming that Kieran's coming to save you? Wake up, Heather. Guys like him hate betrayal way more than they care about possession."

Her face went pale, then flushed red. His words drilled straight through her defenses.

She fought back, but her limbs started to lose strength - the drug was kicking in fast.

Her eyes watered and reddened, lips trembling as she gave in, "Just... be a little gentle, Mr. Harper. I can't take pain."

Zachary's smile twisted with satisfaction. "See? Why couldn't you be this obedient earlier?"

All of a sudden, Heather looped an arm around his neck. He relaxed, thinking she'd finally surrendered. Her other hand reached out behind him - there, a crystal ashtray.

Crack!

The ashtray crashed hard into Zachary's skull.

His head buzzed instantly, hot blood streaming from his forehead and staining his vision.

Heather didn't hesitate. She snatched a steak knife from the table and dashed for the door.

The two bodyguards outside didn't even register what was happening yet. Inside, Zachary clutched his head and roared in frustration, "What the hell are you standing there for?! Grab her! That crazy bitch - damn it - she really smashed it!"

---

It was already night. A sleek black Maybach sat parked at the hotel entrance.

Up front, Noah was trying to reason with Kieran. "You know what Zachary is like - Westhaven's infamous playboy. If Heather ends up in his hands..."

"You feeling bad for her now?" Kieran's voice cut through the silence, his face carved from stone.

"She betrayed you, yeah. But you loved her once, Kieran. I just don't want you to regret anything later."

Kieran didn't blink. "Drive."

Noah had nothing more to say. He reached for the ignition.

That's when Heather burst out of the hotel lobby, hair disheveled, dress torn.

Zachary's men were right behind her.

Without thinking, she yanked open the Maybach's back door and dove inside.

Only Kieran could save her now.

She threw herself into his arms, not caring about pride or shame. Her lips landed on his without warning, desperate and shaky.

Eyes glossy, corners red - she sobbed, "Kieran, don't... don't push me away..."