Chapter 4

The drive to the Hamptons was long. Silent.

Victoria drove the sleek, silver convertible. Spencer Hayes was in the passenger seat.

Of course.

I was in the back. Like luggage. Or a dog.

Eleanor Ashford' s estate was obscene. A palace by the sea.

Manicured lawns, fountains, staff bustling around.

Eleanor greeted Victoria with a cool kiss on the cheek.

Spencer got a warm smile. "Spencer, dear. So good of you to come."

Me? I got a nod. Barely.

Like I was the chauffeur.

Lunch was served on a sprawling terrace overlooking the ocean.

The conversation was about polo, about stocks, about some charity gala I' d never heard of.

Eleanor made a point of highlighting Spencer' s latest business triumph.

Then she turned to me.

"And you, Ethan? Still... playing your guitar?"

The condescension was thick.

Spencer smirked into his wine glass.

Victoria said nothing. She just picked at her lobster salad.

Her silence was the loudest sound at the table.

It screamed her agreement with her mother. Her indifference to my humiliation.

I remembered drives with Vic. Years ago. In my beat-up old car.

Windows down, music blaring. Singing off-key.

Her head on my shoulder. Her hand in mine.

The city lights a blur around us.

We didn' t have much. But we had that.

Intimacy. Connection.

Now, Victoria sat inches away from Spencer, laughing at something he said.

They looked like a matched set. Perfect. Polished.

I was the smudge on the otherwise pristine picture.

Suddenly, on the freeway back to the city, a truck swerved.

Horn blared. Metal screeched.

It happened fast.

Victoria screamed.

Instinctively, she threw her arm out.

Across Spencer. To protect him.

I was in the back. Unrestrained by her arm.

My head slammed against the side window. Hard.

Darkness.

Then, pain. Blinding pain.

I woke up in a hospital room.

White walls. Beeping machines. The smell of antiseptic.

My head throbbed. My vision was blurry.

Eleanor Ashford was there. Standing by the window.

"Mr. Miller," she said, her voice devoid of any warmth. "You' re awake."

She didn' t ask how I felt.

"Victoria is fine. Spencer is fine. A few bruises."

She paused. "This changes nothing. My offer still stands. In fact, consider it an incentive to recover quickly and depart."

Her eyes were cold, calculating.

I just stared at her. The pain in my head was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

This was the ultimate betrayal. Victoria protecting him, not me.

Not even a thought for me.

My place in her life was crystal clear. Non-existent.

"Yes, Mrs. Ashford," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. "I understand."

My decision was made. Solidified. I would take the money. I would leave.

There was nothing left here for me.

Victoria came in later. Her eyes were wide. A little red.

"Ethan? Oh, thank God you' re okay."

She reached for my hand.

I pulled away.

"I' m fine," I lied. My head felt like it was splitting open.

"You should check on Spencer. He seemed shaken."

I needed her to believe I was fine. I needed her to leave me alone so I could plan.

So I could disappear.

Her face fell a little. But she nodded.

"Yes, you' re right. I' ll... I' ll be back."

She left.

The door clicked shut.

Leaving me alone with the truth.

And the million-dollar check that was my ticket out.