Bound by the will

CHAPTER 005

STEVIE HARRINGTON

When I walked into the living room, I met an unfamiliar face. But that was the least of my concern, so I walked past them—until someone spoke up.

"Hey, get me a glass of water and quickly tidy up this place. I wonder why you're soaked like a child," she said.

I turned.

"Was that for me?" I asked.

"I'm not a maid. You can get a maid to do that for you. Enjoy your moment," I shot at her, annoyed. She looked at Devon as if expecting him to say something, but when she didn't get a response, she scoffed, folding her arms.

“So this is the girl he's supposed to marry?” she said loudly, as if I wasn't standing right there.

I blinked. Marry? I laughed slightly

Devon finally looked up from his phone, his jaw tightening. “Marina. Enough.”

So that was her name.

She rolled her eyes. “I'm just saying, your grandfather had questionable taste.”

"And you didn't tell me she'd be… like this?"

Devon didn’t look up. “I didn't tell you anything, Marina.”

My blood boiled. I stepped closer. “If you have something to say to me, say it directly.”

Her smirk grew wider. “Fine. You don't belong here.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but suddenly Devon stood up, his voice low but sharp.

Devon's eyes flicked toward me—cold and guarded—but something else hid beneath.

Marina smirked at my confusion. “Oh, he hasn't told you? How interesting.”

He inhaled slowly, as she turned to him then back at me.

"Standing right in front of you is his fiancée, and don't you dare think of getting married," she said, flaunting herself.

A chill ran up my spine.

"Good for you then!" I spat out.

"Marina, that's enough." He walked closer to her, lowering his voice. “You're making a mistake. She's not…”

“I said that's enough,” he repeated, firmer this time.

The room fell silent—until his phone buzzed violently.

Unknown number.

Same number.

Repeated.

His expression changed.

Everything was about to shift again.

I swallowed, unsure what hurt more: her insult or the fact that Devon didn't defend me, only shut her up because she annoyed him.

“Great,” I muttered. “Exactly what I needed today.”

I turned to leave, but Devon suddenly spoke.

“Stevie.”

I froze.

Even Marina looked surprised.

He got up, grabbed my hand, and we walked out of the living room, heading to the car as Angel went to get the door.

"Why'd you drag me out like that? My clothes are still damp," I asked as Angel drove us out of the mansion.

He didn't give a single reply.

"And where are we going in the middle of the night?" I asked, but he didn’t reply.

"Will you tell me what's going on, or should I ask Angel to stop the car and find my way back home?" I spat out angrily.

"You agreed to be my PA, so what's the fuss all about?" he shot at me in a cold tone as his phone buzzed repeatedly.

"Stop the car," he said immediately to Angel, as he took out his card and handed it to me.

"Get down. Go get a change of clothes,” he ordered.

A few minutes later, I returned to the car as Angel commenced driving us to God knows where.

"Would you tell me where we are headed?" I asked. His phone vibrated; a message popped up.

"Just shut the f**k up," he said, and suddenly Angel stopped the car.

We were at a bar. He suddenly got down and hesitated before closing the door, as if he expected me to follow.

"You knew?" I asked Angel, and he nodded.

"Yeah, I read his expression."

I murmured, "Oh," and made to get out of the car, but a question crossed my mind.

"Who's she? The lady in the mansion?"

"Oh, Marina. She's Devon's supposed fiancée, but she was caught cheating on him with his best friend," Angel said, making me wonder how they were back together.

He was really reserved.

"How are they back together?" I asked again, and he sighed.

"She begged, but obviously Devon still doesn't trust her."

"You should go; he'd be waiting for you," Angel nudged, motioning me to go meet Devon, and I nodded, leaving the car.

I got to where he was. There were two chairs, so I sat on the one opposite him.

He was drinking non-stop. As he reached for the bottle again, I took it away.

"Give that back," he said, trying to sound cold, but he was already consumed by drunkenness.

"Yea, yea, this is not the time to sound fierce," I said, dropping the bottle far from his reach.

"We should head back home. You've had enough," I said as I walked to his couch, trying to pull him up, but instead, he drew me down to sit.