Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Lizetta was already on the brink of divorce, and now someone was throwing cash her way. There was no way she’d say no to that.

The moment Lizetta pocketed the dough, whether she went through with the divorce or not, Remington couldn’t stand having wool pulled over his eyes. It was like she was planting a thorn right in his heart.

Elara shook her head, “Let’s talk back in the car.”

Evelina’s heart sank in an instant. She thought that with Lizetta’s soft spot for Elara, the old “motherly love” card, there was no way Lizetta could turn her down.

What an ungrateful snake! As the car started moving, Evelina’s tears started flowing like a waterfall, and she threw herself into Elara’s arms.

“Mom, I don’t care that Lizetta got mad, slapped me, all of that jazz. But my belly’s getting bigger by the day, and Remington, still hung up on Fiona, won’t get a divorce.

How can I bear to have my child be the talk of the town? I had a rough enough childhood; I don’t want my baby to be born into this cruel world.”

Elara’s heart was shattered, and she patted Evelina trying to comfort her, “Don’t you worry I’m gonna make sure you get what you want.”

After she sent Evelina to her hospital room and made sure she was asleep, Elara stepped out and made a call, her voice light, “Fancy grabbing a coffee when you’re free?”

Night fell.

Fresh out of the shower, Lizetta counted her stash of cash again, furrowing her brow. As hard as she was hustling, saving money for regular folks was like watching paint dry. She was always spending more than she was saving. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

She’d scraped together not even 30 grand. Who’d have thought Mrs. Dashiell would be scraping by like this?

Lizetta was feeling a bit down in the dumps, thinking, actually trading in that dirtbag for 500 grand didn’t seem like such a bad deal.

Just as she was about to hit the hay after tidying up her stuff, her phone buzzed.

Yolanda had already knocked out, and Lizetta, not wanting to wake her, quickly answered the phone and headed to the balcony.

“Mrs. Dashiell, the boss might have an infected wound and seems to be running a fever. I’m sent out of town and can’t make it back. Could you please rush over to Oakridge Heights to check on him?”

It was Cedric,

Lizette frowned, “What about Edith? She’ll take care of him.”

Can’t reach Edith by phone. Mrs. Dashiell, please, go check on him. Nobody’s answering his cell either; he might have passed out from the fever.”

Cedric’s voice was filled with urgency, and Lizetta started to worry too. She tried calling Edith and Remington, but no dice, no one was picking up.

Lizetta didn’t dare delay, quickly changed and dashed to Oakridge Heights. As she stepped into the foyer, the villa was pitch black, not a soul around, like no one was home.

Lizetta started thinking maybe Cedric gave her the wrong address, that Remington wasn’t even here.

She went upstairs, pushed open the bedroom door, and there was a nightlight on. Remington was propped up against the headboard, eyes closed, not sure if he was asleep

or not.

Seeing him there, Lizetta breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over. The moment her hand touched his forehead, Remington suddenly grabbed her wrist, his palm burning hot.

He’d definitely got a fever. Thinking he was awake, Lizetta leaned in, but then she saw his eyes were still tightly shut, his handsome face slightly flushed, breathing a bit labored clearly, he was out cold.

Couldn’t let anyone touch him even in his sleep, huh? Lizetta chuckled to herself, tried to pull away, but Remington’s grip was like iron.

“Let go,” she touched his face with her other hand.

Perhaps the coolness of her hand comforted him, Remington nuzzled into her palm and mumbled, “Who’s there?”

Sick Remington seemed kinda cute to Lizetta, but then she remembered Elara’s words about it taking two to tango, and she was tempted to slap him again.

She leaned in closer, her voice soft, “It’s mom, sweetie. Say ‘mom‘, and I’ll go get your medicine.”

Before she could finish, he opened his eyes. His deep–set eyes were lucid and sharp, not a hint of grogginess.

Lizetta panicked; her instinct was to bolt. But the next second, he pulled her in forcefully, she lost her balance, fell on top of him, and he held her down tightly.

His feverish body heat scorched Lizetta, and she froze on spot.

“If I call you ‘mom‘, would you dare respond?!”

Remington’s voice was hoarse with illness, but it was fierce in Lizetta’s ear.

Lizetta thought to herself, she’d have to hear that, but she didn’t dare say it out loud.

Instead, she said, “You’ve got a fever, let me go, and I’ll get you some medicine.”

Remington didn’t let go, instead, he rubbed his forehead against her neck and said, “You actually came back!”

There was anger in his tone, but Lizetta weirdly picked up a hint of hurt. It tugged at her heartstrings, and she pressed her lips, saying, “You’re not the one who took a bullet for Evelina. You should have her come take care of you. Mmm.”

He bit her ear, his burning heat enveloping her cool earlobe. Lizetta couldn’t tell if it was the heat or the pain that made her whimper, trembling lightly.

Remington released her ear and let out a raspy chuckle by her ear, “Are you a fool, believing anything anyone tells you?”