Chapter 3: Unintended Consequence
1291 Words
Evangeline
Mom's words landed like a punch to the gut.
"Mom, my head's killing me. This isn't the best time for theatrical jokes." I muttered in a voice that trembled with emotion, afraid of what the truth was.
I watched my mom's quivering shoulders as she continued to sob, wondering whether this was real or I was simply in a drunken dream.
Mom's shoulders stopped trembling, and she pulled herself up to her full height, her face a mask of anger.
"You think I would come to you with such lie at 6am in the morning?"
Her narrowed eyes scorched the door behind me, and I winced.
"I'm sorry." I muttered, guilt, shame, and pain swarming through me as I stepped forward and tried to take her hands in mine.
But mother ripped her hands off, as if she couldn't bear to be touched and whirled around, presenting her back to me. Her trembling returned.
"Everyone would think that I killed him." She whispered, her voice tinged with fear and despair. "Everyone would think that I did it to take over his legacy."
My heart slammed so hard against my ribcage that, for a moment, I feared it was going to beat right out of my chest.
Was Gavin truly dead? I looked around, as if the sterile hallway and polished sculptures held answers.
He had been inside me moments ago. How had he wound up dead a few hours later?
"Mom, what really happened?" I questioned. Even though I was filled with the urge to take her hand in mine in silent comfort, I didn't.
Mom shook her head, as if she too was still in complete disbelief.
"I got a call." She whispered, her voice gravely. "He kissed me goodbye before leaving and said he would be back in a couple of days. There was an important meeting he couldn't get out of, a big-shot client in Spain. He was on his way to the airport, Eva."
She dissolved into a fit of tears. This time, when I circled my arms around her, she allowed it.
Pain arched through me at the way she sobbed against my shoulder.
Was this not what I wanted? To watch Mother suffer? Why was my heart breaking for her?
I was the worst person alive. My body shook with the weight of the secret I carried.
"Let's sit down. You need a glass of water, Mother." I said in a calm voice that belied the guilt and shame that churned inside me.
But Mother pulled back and wrinkled her nose in absolute disgust.
"Have you been drinking?"
"Just enough to induce sleep." I lied.
But she pulled completely away from me and began to move down the hallway.
"Use the shower and meet me at the lounge area in ten minutes. The authorities will be here any second for questioning. And keep an eye on the housekeeper. make sure she doesn't steal anything."
I watched her move down the hallway, the only indication that she was blind being the hand she moved against the wall to guide her forward.
I quickly dashed into my room and held my head in my hands.
Gavin was dead. The man who had f****d me hours ago was gone. What would Mother think if I told her that I'd lain with her husband?
I shuddered as the water cascaded down my back. Maybe this was really a drunken dream, any moment now, I was going to wake up.
I showered quickly, and as I dressed, a loud knock sounded on my door.
I rushed to open it, expecting the housekeeper on the other side. Instead, I came face to face with Margaret Calder.
Gavin's mother. A multi-millionaire in her own right. Feared and revered just as much as Gavin.
Her brown eyes held nothing but disdain and contempt as they looked me over. Behind her were two menacing-looking men.
"W-what are you doing here?" I stuttered out, my gaze flicking between the older woman and the minions behind her.
"Sometimes, I wonder which I hate more. Gavin's foolish decision, or the dumb gold diggers he had brought into his home."
Margaret's dark brown eyes flicked towards me again, and this time, the hatred in her eyes appeared even more scorching.
"Get dressed, pack your stuff and that of your blind mother, and get out of here."
"What?" I gasped as shock and palpable fear coursed through my system.
"You cannot kick us out. This is our home." I meant for my voice to sound loud and steady, but it only came out weak, fearful, and unsure.
Margaret's chuckle was low and mocking.
"You and your visually impaired mother planned it well, didn't you?" She stepped towards me, invading my personal space, my nose suddenly overcome with her sharp fragrance.
"I am afraid I do not understand what you're talking about."
Margaret's smile in that moment was just as smarmy as Gavin's.
"I know that act, young woman. My son might have fallen for it, but you very well know it won't work on me."
"Excuse me, Mrs. Thatcher, but your son loved my mo—"
"I wonder how that blind woman had managed to convince my son that she could carry an heir for him." Margaret tsked, cutting me off as she c****d her hips to one side and appeared to be in deep thought.
And then, slowly, she turned to the men behind her, the ones who hadn't stopped glaring at me, as if they could somehow make me scuttle off with just that look.
"Was he truly bewitched like the media had alluded? Drugged?"
The men did not answer. But that didn't stop her from returning her hateful gaze to me.
I shook my head wildly. "We didn't do that. Gavin loved my—"
"The only love your blind mother knows is the one that she has for gold, cashmere, and currency. Unfortunately, she picked the wrong family to feed off of."
"You cannot kick us out." I spluttered as desperation took a hold of me. If we got kicked out, mother and I were going to be back on the street, struggling once more to survive.
"Mother was legally married to your late son. And for all we know, she could very well be with child—"
"I won't repeat myself, young woman." Margaret's tone this time was dark, and her face twisted into a scowl, reminding me of the day of the wedding, when she'd glared at Mother throughout the ceremony.
I looked wildly between the older woman and the angry-looking men behind her.
" Don't do this. Don't be cruel. My mother is mourning the death of her husband right now."
"No, she's not. She's rejoicing over the legacy she hopes to take over, which will not happen."
"What?" I gasped out. "How can you say that?"
Margaret's grin this time was smug. "I know that you and your stupid mother are way too dumb to have made an attempt on my son's life."
I shook my head, sad at the women's open cruelty. "You think so low of us."
"You both are natural low-life opportunists, desperate for a clean break. You both found salvation in my son. But unfortunately, that didn't last long, did it?"
"We are not opportunists. Your son wanted something that Mother knew she could give."
"Where is it then?"
"What?" I asked confusedly.
"The 'something. ' The baby bump. Where is it?"
I opened my mouth and closed it, momentarily speechless.
Margaret seemed satisfied that she had stunned me into silence. "I'll give you an hour to pack. One second more, and I'll have to throw you and your pathetic sightless mother into jail."
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