Chapter 15
The courtroom was frigid and unwelcoming, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
The nurse sat on the witness stand, her posture rigid yet her voice steady as she recounted the events of that fateful day in the operating room.
“I was told not to ask questions,” she said, her expression flat but her tone charged. “But it was obvious the surgery wasn’t following standard protocol. The orders came directly from Quentin Brooks.”
I sat silently, my hands knotted in my lap. Across the room, Quentin shook his head, defiance etched into every line of his face. His lawyer spun a web of excuses, weaving counterarguments designed to poke holes
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in an airtight case. But the evidence was overwhelming–my mother’s surgery was the centerpiece, but the stage was crowded with more damning revelations.
Embezzlement. Bribery. A tangled web of illegal dealings tied to Brooks Enterprises had come to light.
And now, all we could do was wait for the
verdict.
After court adjourned for the day, I returned home with Wesley.
The house felt different–too quiet, the silence almost suffocating. I busied myself with meaningless tasks, but my thoughts kept circling back to the baby I had lost and the fractured pieces of a life I was still trying to heal.
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Of course, Wesley noticed. He always noticed.
“You’ve been stuck in this house too long,” he said one evening, settling beside me on the couch.
“I’m fine,” I replied, though even I could hear the emptiness in my words.
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he studied me. “No, you’re not. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be fine all the time.”
I let out a long sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “Okay, Dr. Wesley, what do you suggest?”
A mischievous grin spread across his face, a spark flickering in his eyes. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving this weekend.”
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I raised an eyebrow, more out of disbelief than curiosity. “Oh? And where exactly are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said, standing and extending a hand toward me. “You just have to trust me.”
I hesitated, but the warmth in his gaze melted any resistance I had. I placed my hand in his.
That weekend, I found myself seated beside him in a helicopter.
“You’re seriously flying this thing?” I asked, half–laughing, although a subtle nervous tremor betrayed me.
Wesley chuckled, his hands steady on the controls. “Relax. I’ve got this under control.”
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The rotors roared to life, and within moments, we were leaving the earth behind, the city below shrinking to a glittering patchwork of lights.
I glanced out the window and, for the first time in weeks, felt a flicker of something I hadn’t expected–excitement. “Okay, seriously–where are we headed?” I asked over the hum of the engine.
“You’ll see, Wesley replied, his gaze fixed on the horizon, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
When the helicopter finally descended, it revealed a private island below us, its white sandy beaches embracing crystal–clear water that reflected the cloudless blue sky.
As soon as we touched down, Wesley unbuckled and stepped out, opening my door
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with a flourish. He extended his hand toward me. “Welcome to paradise.”
The view stole my breath. Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, their fronds whispering secrets to the ocean’s gentle
waves.
We walked along the beach, Wesley’s arrangements immaculate. Near the shore, a cabana waited for us, complete with a table for two and a picnic basket perched perfectly on top.
“This is…” I trailed off, turning to him in disbelief. “It’s incredible.”
Wesley shrugged, his grin widening, boyish yet sincere. “You deserve incredible.”
And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I laughed. A real, unrestrained
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laugh that rushed out like I’d been holding it captive.
Wesley was different. He didn’t just hear–he listened. He didn’t just watch–he saw. Every word, every fleeting thought, every half–smile, he somehow caught them all.
When we reached a secluded cove, he pulled a small bottle of champagne from his bag, uncorking it with practiced ease. He raised his glass, his voice low but steady as he said, “To new beginnings.”
I lifted my glass to meet his, a soft smile curling my lips. “To new beginnings.”
As the sun sank into the horizon, splashing the sky with hues of gold and rose, we returned to the cabana for dinner. The meal was simple–fresh seafood, tropical fruit, and, to my surprise, dishes prepared with
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Wesley’s amateur but heartfelt culinary touch.
“You’re telling me you made this?” I asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow as I took another bite.
He smirked, not even trying to hide his pride. “Okay, I may have had help. But I did wield a spatula at one point.”
We ate as twilight painted the world in soft blues and purples. Afterward, we sat on the sand, our shoulders brushing as we looked up at a sky freckled with stars.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this calm” I admitted softly, my head resting on his shoulder.
Wesley stayed silent for a moment before threading his fingers through mine. His voice
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came like a whisper carried by the tide. “You deserve calm. And happiness. And every good thing this world has to offer.”
I tilted my head to look at him, my heart tightening in a way that left me breathless. “Thank you, I murmured.
“For what?” he asked, his brows furrowing in genuine curiosity.
“For being here,” I said simply. “For everything.”
The next morning, we flew back to Wesley’s estate, the helicopter cutting fluidly through a sky just warming with the first rays of sunlight. The sprawling fields surrounding the property glimmered like waves of gold in the soft morning light.
“Home sweet home,” Wesley said with a grin,
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grabbing our bags as we disembarked.
I smiled too, following him toward the familiar front entrance. But the moment we approached the doorway, that warm tranquility shifted. Something was… off.
Wesley noticed it too. He paused mid–step, his posture subtly tensing.
Standing on the front steps, a ghost from the past materialized. Gareth Lawson.
My be
heart slammed into my ribs as his strained voice broke the silence. “Iris.”
I froze, every shadow I thought I’d outrun surging forward. I clenched my fists, my breath catching.
“I just want to talk to her,’ Gareth said quickly, raising his hands as if to surrender. “Please,
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that’s it.”
Wesley’s tone turned sharp, lethal. “You’ve got five seconds to get off this property before I call security.”
“It’s okay” I said, my voice quiet but steady as I rested a hand on Wesley’s arm. He turned to me, his protective gaze searching mine. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I’ll hear him out.”
Wesley hesitated but finally stepped aside, though his displeasure hung thick in the air.
Gareth took a cautious step forward, an almost–forced smile on his lips. “Iris,” he started, his voice cracking with carefully rehearsed remorse. “I just came to say I’m sorry. For what I did to you. For cheating on you with Delilah. I… I never got the chance to
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apologize. Not properly.”
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