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Chapter 14
After hanging up the phone, Fiona had planned to head home, but when she looked up, she saw Evelyn waving at her from behind the wheel of her sports car. “Look who’s all grown up now, keeping secrets from her mama,” Evelyn teased with a knowing smile.
Fiona couldn’t help but laugh. “Mom, it’s over. Really over.”
She had made everything crystal clear to Quentin. She knew someone as proud as him would never come crawling back to her now.
“Well then! To celebrate my baby girl’s new lease on life, Mama’s taking you out for some serious fun!” Evelyn declared, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
The sports car made a sharp U–turn, heading straight for the downtown luxury
–
mall. Whatever caught Fiona’s eye even for a split second – Evelyn bought without hesitation. Money was no object; credit cards were swiped with abandon. Every bit of favoritism Quentin had shown to Daisy, Evelyn now lavished on Fional with the full force of the Lockhart fortune.
After their shopping spree, Evelyn’s lips curved into a devious smile. “I’m taking you somewhere special, darling.”
Fiona was puzzled until they pulled up at their destination – the city’s most exclusive nightclub. Evelyn swept in like she owned the place, ordering the most. expensive VIP package and summoning a parade of professional male dancers to their section. Each one looked like they’d stepped off a magazine cover – tall, muscular, and diverse, representing every type of handsome you could imagine. Evelyn poured Fiona a glass of top–shelf vodka. “Now this, sweetheart, is what living looks like.”
Her message was clear: There were plenty of fish in the sea, and Quentin was just a tiny minnow in a vast ocean. Evelyn had always believed that there was no such thing as a wrong turn in life as long as you had the courage to start over, it was
never too late.
–
Fiona, having never set foot in a club before, felt shy at first. But as the alcohol. worked its magic, her inhibitions melted away. Soon she was losing herself in the
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dance floor’s rhythm, letting the pulsing music and flowing drinks wash away her heartache. The bass thundered through her chest, drowning out every thought of
her ex.
As the night wore on, Evelyn started to fade, but Fiona was still going strong. Not wanting to spoil her daughter’s fun, Evelyn left two trusted bodyguards with strict instructions before heading home to rest.
Fiona danced until last call, finally stumbling out with the support of her bodyguards. The night sky sparkled above her, the moon casting a dreamy glow over everything. Her ears were ringing from the music, so she plopped down on a
nearby bench to catch her breath.
As the cool night breeze kissed her skin, one of the bodyguards thoughtfully draped a jacket over her shoulders.
“Home…” she mumbled, her voice thick with alcohol. When she tried to stand, the
world tilted dangerously, but before she could fall, strong hands caught her firmly. Thank goodness for quick reflexes the bodyguard had saved her from a face–first
meeting with the pavement.
Just as Fiona was about to express her gratitude, a familiar scent of cologne wafted through the air – his cologne. Before she could even make out the figure. standing before her, her bodyguards had already formed a protective circle around
her, their faces taut with suspicion.
“Fiona, come home with me.”
Quentin’s voice was tight with barely contained fury. The entire day had been. dedicated to perfecting what he’d dubbed his “Lockhart Strategy” – his master plan to win back Fiona’s heart. He’d ordered exactly 9,999 roses (a grand gesture that had made the florist’s eyes pop), purchased her favorite strawberry cake from that. exclusive patisserie she loved, and even hidden a brand new diamond ring inside it, hoping to spark joy in those beautiful eyes he missed so much.
But when he’d shown up at the door, gifts in hand and hope in his heart, the Lockhart family’s housekeeper had crushed his spirits with cruel mockery.
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Everything he’d prepared with such care – the roses, the cake, even the ring – had been unceremoniously dumped into the trash while he watched, helpless and
humiliated.
Still nursing his wounded pride, Quentin had received a call from Zachary Thompson later that evening, informing him that Fiona had been spotted at a bar. He’d rushed there immediately, only to find this scene unfolding before him. The succession of emotional blows had pushed his anger to its breaking point. Though he struggled to maintain his composure, clinging to years of cultivated self–control, it took just one flippant comment from Fiona to nearly shatter his restraint completely. His fingers clenched at his sides as he fought to keep his
voice steady, even as his heart thundered in his chest.
