Chapter 55
Zachary couldn’t shake the memory of Alyssa’s eyes—filled with such bitter disappointment and resentment, as if he were her sworn enemy. A hollow ache settled in his chest, the kind that came with losing someone irreplaceable.
Moments later, Beatrice stormed into the study, her expression stormy.
“Mr. Blackwood, Ms. Delacroix is here. You should go greet her.”
“I’m not going.”
His response made Beatrice blink in surprise. Had he finally grown a spine? It was almost inspiring to see a man once so easily manipulated now standing his ground.
“I know exactly why she’s here.” Zachary slumped into his chair, his gaze distant. “Tell her not to waste her time if it’s about Damien. The Delacroix family must be in chaos right now. She should go home and be with her parents. I’ll meet her in a few days when things have calmed down.”
“And if she refuses to leave?” Beatrice pressed.
“Then let her stay.” He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. The words “good for nothing” echoed in his mind, stoking his fury. Alyssa had never relied on him—how dare she dismiss him like that?
Beatrice’s lips curled into a smug smile. She gave him an approving nod and a thumbs-up before striding out.
Zachary frowned. It seemed Mrs. Winthrop genuinely despised Vanessa. She looked downright gleeful sending her away.
Outside the villa, Beatrice faced Vanessa with icy disdain. “Mr. Blackwood has made it clear—he won’t involve himself in your family’s affairs. You should leave.”
“Let me see him!” Vanessa tried to push past, but Beatrice—broad-shouldered and immovable—merely stepped forward. Vanessa stumbled back, landing hard on the pavement.
“How dare you!” Vanessa shrieked, scrambling up. “I’m Zachary’s fiancée, the future Mrs. Blackwood! You’ll regret this—I’ll have you fired!”
Beatrice scoffed. “We’ll see about that. Even if he marries you, I’ll never accept you as the lady of this house. My loyalty stays with Ms. Sinclair.”
Vanessa’s face flushed crimson with rage.
“Go ahead, complain to him. I’d thank you if he fired me. Retirement sounds lovely.”
If only Zachary could see Vanessa now—her sweet facade shattered, revealing the venom beneath.
“Zachary! You have to help me!” Ignoring Beatrice, Vanessa dropped to her knees, wailing like a scorned heroine in a melodrama.
Minutes passed. No response. Her cries grew desperate.
“Aunt Isabella! Uncle Alistair!”
“Save your breath,” Beatrice said flatly. “They’re dining with Mr. Archibald. They won’t be back for hours.”
“Then I’ll wait right here until Zachary sees me!”
Beatrice glanced at the darkening sky. “Rain’s coming. I’ve got laundry to bring in. Scream all you like.”
She marched inside, instructing the staff to keep the doors locked.
Vanessa’s voice grew hoarse from shouting. Still, no sign of Zachary. Panic clawed at her. He’d changed. The man who once dropped everything for her now left her kneeling in the cold.
Rain began to fall, soaking her to the bone.
“Zachary, please!”
“Pathetic,” Beatrice muttered from the window. “Only a fool would fall for—”
Footsteps cut her off. She turned to see Zachary approaching, his expression unreadable.
