THE HEIR I WAS FORBIDDEN TO LOVE

I Was Pushed

Chapter 2

By morning Theodore Sinclair had already taken the head of the table, and the rest of the family let him.

I walked into the breakfast room late on purpose. Vincent sat to Theodore’s right. Scarlett poured coffee with a fixed smile. Victoria Hayes watched everything from the far end like she was waiting for blood. I took the empty chair across from Theodore and reached for the toast.

He did not look up from the papers in front of him. “The lawyers arrive at ten. Once they finish, your name comes off every document connected to this house.”

I set the toast down. “You decided that before the coffee cooled.”

“I decided it years ago.” He turned a page. “You simply were not here to hear it.”

Vincent cleared his throat. “Theo, we agreed to discuss the timeline—”

“We agreed she leaves.” Theodore’s voice stayed level. “The only question left is whether she walks out with dignity or is removed.”

Scarlett’s spoon clinked against her cup. “There is no need for that tone at the table.”

“There is every need.” Theodore finally raised his eyes to mine. “Miss Hart, do you plan to argue again, or will you simply pack?”

I held his stare. “I plan to ask why you are in such a hurry. The house has not burned down overnight.”

Victoria gave a short laugh. “Some of us think it should have.”

Scarlett shot her a look. “That is enough.”

Theodore ignored both of them. “You have until noon. After that the staff will clear the room you have been using.”

I leaned back. “You mean the room I have lived in for nineteen years.”

“I mean the room that was never permanently assigned to you.” He closed the folder. “Vincent, sign the temporary order. I want it on record before the lawyers walk in.”

Vincent hesitated, pen in hand. “This feels sudden.”

“It is overdue.” Theodore stood. “Miss Hart, if you need boxes, ask the housekeeper. Do not ask me.”

He left the room without waiting for a reply. The door clicked shut behind him.

Scarlett exhaled. “He has always been like this when he wants something finished.”

I looked at Vincent. “You are going to sign it.”

He met my eyes for only a second. “I have little choice this morning.”

Victoria stood and smoothed her skirt. “Some people know when they have overstayed. Others need help leaving.” She walked out.

I stayed until the room emptied, then went upstairs. I did not pack. I opened the wardrobe, stared at the clothes, and closed it again. The photograph was gone. Theodore still had it. That fact sat heavier than any order he had given.

By late afternoon the lawyers had come and gone. I heard their cars leave. The house settled into the quiet that always followed official business. I waited until the light began to fade, then went looking for answers.

Vincent and Scarlett were in the small sitting room off the library. The door stood open a few inches. I stopped in the hallway and listened.

Scarlett’s voice was low and sharp. “The clinic records should have been destroyed years ago. Why are they still being mentioned?”

Vincent answered slower. “Because someone has been asking questions. The same someone who opened that drawer last night.”

“She cannot know. If she digs further—”

“She will not. Theo will see to it.”

“Theo does not know the full story either.”

A pause. Then Vincent again. “Keep your voice down. The walls in this house have never been as solid as we pretend.”

I stepped closer. The floorboard under my foot gave a soft creak. Inside the room the talking stopped.

I turned to leave. A hand landed hard between my shoulder blades and shoved.

I went forward faster than I could catch myself. The balcony stairs dropped away under my feet. Marble rose to meet me. The impact knocked the air from my lungs. Pain shot up my right arm and settled deep in the wrist. I tried to push myself up and failed.

Footsteps approached. Scarlett’s face appeared above me, pale. “Evelyn. What happened?”

Vincent arrived a second later. “Did you fall?”

I looked past them toward the top of the stairs. No one stood there. The hallway was empty.

“I was pushed,” I said. The words came out thin.

Scarlett knelt. “You must have lost your balance. These stairs are steep.”

“Someone put a hand on my back.”

Vincent’s expression stayed careful. “Who?”

“I do not know. I only felt it.”

Theodore’s voice cut in from the foyer. “What is this?”

He crossed the floor in long strides and stopped when he saw me on the ground. His gaze moved from my face to my wrist, which had already begun to swell.

“She claims she was pushed,” Vincent said.

Theodore looked at the empty stairs, then back at me. “Can you stand?”

“Not without help.”

He did not offer his hand. He turned to the nearest staff member. “Call the doctor. Now.”

Scarlett tried to touch my shoulder. I pulled away. “Do not.”

Theodore’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Hart, if this is a performance to delay your departure, it is a poor one.”

I met his stare. “My wrist is broken. That is not a performance.”

The doctor arrived within twenty minutes. He confirmed the break, wrapped the wrist, and left instructions for ice and elevation. The whole time Theodore stood near the doorway, arms folded, saying nothing.

When the doctor had gone, Theodore spoke again. “You will stay in your room tonight. Tomorrow the arrangements for your exit continue.”

I sat on the edge of the sofa where they had moved me. “Someone in this house just tried to put me down a flight of stairs.”

“You fell.”

“I was pushed.”

“You have no proof.”

“I have a broken wrist and the memory of a hand between my shoulders.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “The staff will check the cameras. If anyone appears, I will deal with it. Until then you stay put.”

Scarlett hovered nearby. “Perhaps she should rest. The shock—”

“She is not in shock,” Theodore said. “She is angry. There is a difference.”

I looked at him. “You took the photograph. You ordered me out. Now someone tries to silence me and you call it a fall. Tell me how that adds up.”

Vincent stepped forward. “Enough for one night. Evelyn, go upstairs. We will talk in the morning.”

Theodore did not move aside when I stood. He only said, “Do not go near the study again. Do not go near any locked door. Whatever you think you found last night ends here.”

I cradled the wrapped wrist against my body. “The clinic records Scarlett mentioned. Those do not end.”

His face changed by a fraction. “You heard that.”

“I heard enough.”

Scarlett’s hand went to her throat. Vincent looked at the floor.

Theodore’s voice dropped. “You will forget what you heard.”

“Or what? Another shove?”

He stepped closer until only a short space remained between us. “Be careful what you accuse people of in this house. Accusations have consequences.”

I held his gaze. “So do broken bones.”

For a second neither of us spoke. Then he turned away. “Go to your room, Miss Hart. Lock the door if it makes you feel safer. In the morning we finish what started last night.”

I climbed the stairs slowly, each step jarring the wrist. At the top I looked back. Theodore still stood in the foyer, watching me. Vincent and Scarlett had already disappeared into the sitting room and closed the door.

In my room I sat on the bed and stared at the bandage. The house had always been quiet at night. Tonight the quiet felt deliberate. I thought about the photograph, the clinic records, the hand that had pushed me, and the way Theodore had looked when I mentioned them.

Someone in this house wanted me gone before I could ask the next question.

And I no longer believed it was only Theodore.