Someone wanted me to live and suffer rather than die a quick death. If I were dead, I wouldn’t feel a thing, butbeing alive meant I would feel pain and loss. The woman who bought Holly’s soul was a vile and dangerous human being who committed a remorseless and ruthless crime. It had to be either Saira Quinn or Erin Everton-Scott.
I saw Saira once at the party where Jules was under her spell. I never forgot her tall, commanding frame and her pristine, ash-blonde hair. What scared me most was her soulless gray eyes, lacking any compassion. She had ears and eyes throughout the city, and I believed she knew I was the reason Alistair protected Julian.
As for Erin, she was a possessive bitch who wanted Alistair to herself. They shared a child, and her marriage to Oliver was fake. Maybe of all the women he’d slept with, she saw the emotional bond between us. She would do anything to eliminate her biggest threat… me.
Both women had power and money. Erin was the devil, and Saira liked to play God.
I made a full recovery under the care of Doctor Cheryl Cohen, a top obstetrician-gynecologist at Saint John’s Hospital. “I’m sorry to say this, but whoever performed the surgery on you did a botched job,” Doctor Cohen said.
“Am I going to be okay?” I asked, feeling doomed anxiety in my heart.
“You probably won’t be able to have children, Vera.”
“Ever?” I asked, feeling an explosion of emotions erupt from my gut to my throat.
“I want to promise you something more positive, but I can’t. I’m sorry. We may be able to look into possibilities later. Perhapsin vitro fertilization may be an option, but I can’t say IVF will work because there’s a lot of damage.”
My heart dropped to a new level of loss and depression, and my knees began to shake.
“Vera, you are a fit and healthy woman, and your body is making a remarkable recovery. There are no signs of infections.”
I was speechless. Not a word came out of my mouth as I stared out the window behind Doctor Cohen.
“We have an excellent psychologist and a support group at the hospital. They’re here to assist women who deal with infertility. Would you like me to refer you to them?”
“Yes, please,” I answered. I couldn’t get through this alone, and I needed help. The waves of helplessness crawled at my feet, soaking me with depression and anxiety. Feeling frail, I took some time off work to recover.
I wanted to know who did this to me, and I needed someone to support me. Saph was dealing with her own mental health issues, and although she wouldn’t admit it, I knew she couldn’t handle more problems. Nobody in my family understood my hell either.
I wanted justice—but I was scared for my life.
I wanted to go to the police, but Saira, and possibly Erin, because of her position as a Scott, had some control over the police department. There was only one person in the world whom I could trust. He had power in a society that could buy people. I took Alistair’s business card from my writing desk drawer, remembering I kept it there even after deleting his number. I needed him. Biting the bullet, I called him and waited for him to pick up. It rang out, so I sent a message.
I’m sorry for the past. Can you please call me? I need your help because you’re the only one I can trust.
I waited for fifteen minutes and rang again, but he didn’t take the call. About an hour later, I called for the third time. I wish I could say he took the call and came straight away. That he canceled his flight to wherever he planned to fly for his next trip, to be at my side. Alistair never answered his phone. He never responded to my messages.
I checked his social media profile and saw a photo of him on a cruise ship with another woman. He wore a tuxedo, and she looked flawless in a backless gown. The photo caption twisted a knife in my heart.
Alistair Scott has found his match. Beautiful actress Rebecca Ross has stolen his heart in the Caribbean. #couplegoals #lovecruise
I put my phone down and felt an overwhelming tidal wave rise in my throat. Kneeling on the floor, I felt sick with nausea and a blinding migraine. I was merely a toy in a rich boy’s playground, only to be tossed aside for something shinier and new.
I learned one thing: when you’re at your lowest point, you’re often alone. It was time to rise as a survivor and not remain a victim. I had done it after my ex Ace beat the shit out of me, punching blows into my gut and painfully ripping hair from my head. People tried to hurt my body, but they could not murder my spirit. Feeling the flames of anger and determination fire up inside me, I stood up.Rise, I heard the voice of hope whisper into my ear.
Get up and rise above this tempest of all storms.
LOVE IS CRUEL
Vera
Tuesday, February 14
“Great. Another fucking Valentine’s Day alone,” I cursed, glaring at the couple-filled café while Marvin Gaye crooned “What’s Going On” overhead as if it’s some kind of cosmic joke.
“It’s just a day, Vee. And you’re not alone.” Saph slid her warm hand over mine, her blue eyes sparkling like she was auditioning for a jewelry commercial.
I stared a second too long, imagining how easily I could undo the silk buttons of her blouse. Tempting, but I wasn’t about to hook up with Julian’s ex. That was one mess I wasn’t signing up for.
