Marked By the Billionaire: A Passion For Revenge

Chapter 4 - Welcome Home

CLAIRE’S POV

I stood frozen, my mind completely blank, as I tried to hold this little girl in my arms. I couldn't find the words, my eyes darting back and forth between the crowd and Logan, who stood beside me, watching silently.

"Come here, sweetie," Logan finally spoke, his voice was soft, rescuing me from the awkwardness of not even knowing the child's name.

"But I want mummy," she whispered, her tiny hands gripping me as she held on, seeking comfort in my embrace.

Logan tried again, gently attempting to take her from me. "Mummy’s still not feeling well," he explained, but she pulled away, shaking her head.

"No, daddy, stop!" she cried, her voice rising in distress. "I want mummy!" Her tiny body tensed as she fought against him, her outburst echoing through the room as she resisted with all her might.

“It’s okay,” I managed to say, my voice steady despite the confusion. “Let me take her upstairs.”

“I’ll go with you,” a woman in her mid-twenties added, finishing the last sip of her wine. I nodded absentmindedly, unsure who she was, but she gave me a smug smile before rising. Her silky black dress shimmered as she moved, and her stiletto heels clicked sharply against the floor.

"Come on, Amy," she coaxed, reaching out to the little girl, who seemed eager to go into her arms.

A sense of relief washed over me as I watched them, unsure how I’d manage on my own. I followed them, the faint sound of rattling glasses filling the air as I walked behind.

As we reached the staircase, I paused, my gaze meeting Kyle’s. He was coming down, looking relaxed and different.

His turquoise T-shirt, tight against his chest, exposed his abs, and his hair was swept back, still damp from a shower.

There was something captivating about him, a confidence in the way he moved. He gave me a brief nod as he passed, and though I wanted a more personal greeting, I played it cool, and nodded back.

"In here, Claire," the woman said, gently guiding me into Amy's room. At least I finally knew my daughter’s name. Amy

The room was cozy, soft light spilling from a small lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. Bedazzling paintings dotted the space—colorful, abstract strokes that somehow gave the room a sense of calm. It felt lived in, comfortable, like a place where memories were made.

I stopped in front of a photograph—Logan, Amy, and me. We were all smiles, wrapped in the warmth of the moment, and for a brief second, I could almost hear the laughter that had once filled the air. A strange feeling tugged at me, as if I were seeing myself from a past life, something fleeting yet familiar.

“It’s good to have you back, Claire,” the woman said, her voice lighter now. She twirled her fingers around the lamp, eyes on me as if she were relieved. “I was really worried I’d lost you.”

I bit my lip, feeling unsure. “I’m sorry, but… could you remind me of your name? I don’t think you’ve said it, and... I can’t remember much,” I mumbled, touching my forehead, trying to make sense of everything.

She let out a loud, almost mocking laugh. “Oh, right,” she said with a smirk. “I guess I forgot to mention that.”

“But hey, I’m sure you’ll remember my name,” she said, a playful edge to her voice. “I’m not easily forgotten.”

I stood there, watching her heels click on the floor as she turned to leave. Her steps echoed, and I was left standing, not knowing what to say. I shook it off and looked over at Amy. She was so quiet... I realized she had fallen asleep.

I sat beside her, running my hand gently through her hair, feeling confused and a little sorry for myself.

I quietly tiptoed out of the room. I could hear voices from the living room, but I didn’t want to go back there. Instead, I walked to the other side of the hall. It seemed better to check the rooms, maybe find something that would remind me of the past.

There were so many rooms. My eyes kept moving from one to the next, until I stopped at a door at the far end. Something about it made me pause. I felt drawn to it, so I walked toward it.

The old door creaked open slowly, just enough to make a faint sound. I glanced around, ensuring no one was in sight before stepping inside.

My heart raced, and though the room was dark, I could hear faint sounds—low groans that barely rose above a whisper. “Harder, harder, baby,” the voice murmured, growing louder. "Come on, baby," the man's voice grew louder. "Yeah, right there." The sound of bodies hitting together echoed through the room.

I froze for a moment, but then something about the voice felt strangely familiar. My curiosity grew, and I quietly moved closer to where the sound was coming from. As I got closer, a wave of sickness hit my stomach.

It was Kyle, on his knees, sweating as he made love another woman. My heart sank when I saw who she was—the same woman who had just helped me with Amy.