Chapter 300
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Chapter 300:
Your biggest mistake in this life, Kieran, was believing the tabloids.
He did not reach for his phone. He did not dial anyone. He simply slumped forward and buried his face in his bruised hands. The understanding that he had personally destroyed the only pure thing in his life — traded it for a foundation built entirely on lies — settled over him like a stone. He sat there in the cold, silent office, a hollow man mourning the ghost of a future he had thrown away himself.
At ten o’clock in the morning, the Wolfe Hotel executive office was completely silent.
Carmen sat behind her desk, brow furrowed in deep concentration, working through a massive stack of tax compliance documents.
Her private cell phone vibrated sharply against the glass desk.
She glanced at the screen. It was the landline number for the Golden family estate in Long Island.
“Hello p>
“Carmen!” Mrs. Golden’s voice shrieked through the speaker, gasping and hysterical. “My chest! The pain is terrible. I cannot breathe! Please, you have to come home right now p>
Carmen’s blood turned to ice. The pen slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the desk.
A violent flashback surged through her — the screech of tires, the shattering of glass, the car crash seven years ago that had taken her real parents.
I𝗇𝘵𝘦𝗇s𝘦 𝘳om𝖺nce 𝗼𝘯 𝗀𝖺𝗅ոo𝘷𝖾𝗹ѕ.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“Mom? Mom, hold on! Call 911!” she shouted, leaping from her chair.
The line went dead.
Carmen didn’t grab her coat. She didn’t grab her laptop. She seized her keys and sprinted out of the office, bursting through the double doors and nearly colliding with Jocelyn, who was carrying a cup of coffee.
“Carmen? What is wrong?” Jocelyn asked, startled.
“My mother is having a heart attack,” Carmen gasped, not breaking stride. She ran into the waiting elevator and drove her fist into the button for the garage.
Ten minutes later, Carmen was pushing her Porsche down the Long Island Expressway at ninety miles an hour. Her hands were locked around the steering wheel, knuckles white, palms slick with cold sweat.
Her chest ached with panic. She prayed quietly, urgently, to a god she barely believed in.
The Porsche skidded onto the gravel driveway of the Golden family’s estate, tires shrieking in protest. Carmen threw it into park, left the door open, and sprinted up the front steps. She shoved the heavy oak door open with both hands.
“Mom!” The word tore out of her throat.
She ran into the formal living room, braced for paramedics.
She froze.
Mrs. Golden sat comfortably on the plush velvet sofa in a pristine silk dress, holding a delicate porcelain teacup to her lips and taking a slow, unhurried sip of English breakfast tea. Across from her, in the armchair, sat a stranger in a stiff, outdated three-piece suit, his hair slicked back with too much gel.
Mrs. Golden looked up, set down her teacup, and frowned with practiced disapproval.
“Carmen, really,” she sighed, eyeing Carmen’s disheveled blouse. “You could have at least worn a jacket. You look completely unprofessional p>
Message from Noa: Hope you have a great weekend dear readers. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. (ɔO‿=)ɔ ♥