14 Chapter 16
- 16.
Chapter 16 A Sterling Impression and a Storm of Accusations
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The mountain road curved sharply as we descended, the Sterling estate gradually disappearing behind us. I sat in comfortable silence, stealing glances at Damien’s profile as he expertly navigated the winding path.
“Your family’s estate is breathtaking, I finally said, breaking the silence.
Damien’s hands remained steady on the wheel. “It’s been in the family for generations. Though I prefer my penthouse in the city–less fuss.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Everything about the Sterling family screamed old money and power, yet here was Damien, speaking about their ancestral home as if it were just another house. His humility was unexpected and refreshing.
“I should have another car follow us,” he said suddenly.
“What? Why?”
“These mountain roads can be treacherous. I’d feel better knowing someone was behind you on your way down.”
Before I could protest, he was already on the phone, giving instructions to someone named Wilson. Within minutes, a black SUV appeared in my rearview mirror.
“That’s not necessary,” I said, feeling both touched and overwhelmed by his concern.
“Humor me,” he replied with a slight smile. “I take safety seriously.”
When we reached the base of the mountain, Damien pulled over. “My driver will take over from here. I have a call I need to make.”
“Oh. I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “Thank you for the ride down.”
As I transferred to my waiting car, Damien walked me to the door. “I look forward to seeing your designs, Hazel
The way he said my name–like he was savoring each syllable–sent a flutter through my
stomach.
“I won’t disappoint you, I promised.
His expression softened. “I know you won’t.”
I watched in the side mirror as my car pulled away. Damien’s Bentley remained stationary until we reached the main road, then followed for several miles. When we approached the highway entrance, he honked twice–short, deliberate taps that felt like a personal goodbye.
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By the time I reached my studio, my mind was already racing with design ideas. I spent the afternoon sketching concepts for Mrs. Sterling’s gown and Chloe’s performance dress, barely noticing as hours flew by.
Cherry poked her head into my office. “It’s almost five. Don’t you have that appointment at the Civil Affairs Bureau?”
My stomach dropped. With everything that had happened at the Sterling estate, I’d nearly forgotten about my divorce appointment with Julian.
“Thanks for reminding me.” I gathered my things, my good mood evaporating. “Did Julian confirm?”
Cherry shook her head. “He hasn’t responded to any of our messages.”
I sighed, pulling out my phone. No messages from Julian. I dialed his number, bracing myself.
After four rings, someone picked up–but it wasn’t Julian.
“Hello?” Ivy’s sickly–sweet voice drifted through the speaker.
My grip tightened on the phone. “Put Julian on.”
“Julian’s in the shower,” she said. “Is this about the divorce?”
“That’s none of your business.”
Ivy laughed–not the fragile, cancer–patient laugh she used in public, but something harder and colder. “Oh, Hazel. Everything about Julian is my business now.”
“Just tell him to call me. We have an appointment at the Civil Affairs Bureau in an hour!
“You know,” Ivy continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “you should thank me for taking Julian off your hands. He never really loved you. He told me you were always second best.”
I felt as if I’d been slapped. “That’s not true.
“Isn’t it? Why else would he choose me? Even dying, I’m more woman than you’ll ever be.
“Goodbye, Ivy.” I hung up before she could say another word, my hands trembling with rage.
Ten minutes later, my phone rang–Julian’s number.
*Are you coming to the appointment?” I asked without preamble.
“About that…” Julian hesitated. “I think we should postpone. My lawyer says we need to review the asset division first.”
“What assets? I’ve already signed everything over to you.”
“It’s just procedure, Hazel. These things take time.”
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I closed my eyes, fighting back my frustration. “You promised we’d file today. I rearranged my entire schedule for this.
“I’m sorry, but with Ivy’s treatment schedule and my work-”
“Stop, I cut him off. “Just stop making excuses. Either show up today, or I’m filing without you
Julian’s voice hardened. “You can’t file without my signature.”
“Watch me.”
I hung up and grabbed my purse. “Cherry, I’m heading to the Civil Affairs Bureau. Hold all my calls.
Despite knowing it was futile, I still went to the appointment. I sat in the cold, sterile waiting room for forty–five minutes before accepting the inevitable: Julian wasn’t coming.
I tried calling him again, but his phone went straight to voicemail. In a moment of desperation, I did something I knew I’d regret–I called my stepmother.
Eleanor picked up on the second ring. “What do you want?”
“Hello to you too,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need your help with Julian.”
Her laugh was harsh. “Help you? After what you’ve done?”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play innocent with me,” she snapped. “Ivy told me everything–how you threatened her at the hospital, how you’ve been harassing them with calls and messages.”
“What? That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it? Julian showed me the dozens of missed calls from you. And now Ivy’s condition is worse- her doctor says her stress levels are through the roof because of you.”
I gripped the phone tighter. “I haven’t threatened anyone. I just want to finalize this divorce so
we can all move on.”
“Move on? You’re obsessed! Why can’t you accept that Julian chose Ivy? What kind of monster tries to stress out a dying girl?”
“Eleanor, please-”
“No!” Her voice rose to a shriek. “I know you hate me, if you have the guts, come at me, see if t don’t rip your mouth apart!”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, stunned by her viciousness. Other people in the waiting room were staring now.
“You’re delusional,” I whispered, gathering my things. “All of you.”
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As I walked out of the Civil Affairs Bureau, my phone dinged with a text from an unknown number:
*Leave Julian and Ivy alone. Haven’t you done enough damage?*
Attached was a photo of Ivy in a hospital bed, looking pale and fragile, with Julian holding her hand. The caption read: “Fighting for her life while Hazel Ashworth harasses us.
I stared at the message, a cold realization washing over me. This wasn’t just about delaying a divorce–they were setting me up, painting me as the villain in their twisted love story.
And judging by Eleanor’s reaction, people were starting to believe them.
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