Chapter 47
Amanda stared at her phone screen, her chest thumping quickly. The designer clock on the wall blinked 10:37 p.m., but sleep was nowhere in her eyes—she was wide awake. She hadn’t been able to calm herself down since the day in Katherine’s office. She glanced at her yet-faded finger—the grip that Katherine held her with that day bruised and arched, and it had yet to fade away.
She hissed quietly and pulled the phone closer, fingers trembling slightly as she scrolled through her contacts. Her thumb hovered over Brenda Knight’s na, teeth gnawing at her lower lip as her stomach churned—it was only her who could help her right now. She gulped and pressed the call button.
The phone rang twice before an irritated, curt Brenda’s voice answered.
"Amanda."
Amanda didn’t bother with greetings. She didn’t call for greetings. She needed help as she clutched her phone tighter to her ear. Her voice was tense and shaky. "He knows."
There was silence for a mont before Brenda’s voice ca through, cold and slightly annoyed. "Knows what?"
Amanda swallowed, wetting her lower lip. "About the twins."
The line went silent again as Amanda stood in the middle of her room, pacing as her heart thudded in her chest. "I heard it, Brenda. With my own ears. I heard him. He knows those children are his. They aren’t bastard children," she muttered, biting her nails anxiously.
With the babies in, won’t her plan flop?
No, she can’t let it.
Amanda blinked, not hearing anything from Brenda but could hear her shallow breathing on the other end. She too must be shocked, right?
"I thought—" Amanda bit her nail, dragging her hand through her hair, pulling at the strands. "You told she was a whore," she said, rembering Brenda had once ntioned it before. But what if Brenda was totally wrong? "You said she slept with n to get pregnant. You told she seduced him and that she wasn’t worth anything."
Amanda stopped pacing, her legs trembling beneath her. "But those kids—his kids—he knows now. And he’s not even hiding it."
Brenda’s voice was still eerily quiet. "Explain."
Amanda’s voice turned frantic as her hands moved, gesturing her frustration. "He’s always with her, Brenda! I’ve seen it with my eyes—he always watches her. Sotis he returns to the suite late, and I saw the gift he bought."
Amanda’s voice quivered as she slumped onto the edge of her bed, pressing her palm to her forehead worriedly. "Only a little ti before he would say he wants the kids and Katherine back." The last statent ca out of her mouth like venom, punching her in the gut, a reality check for her as her chest heaved.
Brenda finally responded, but her tone was far from calm. "So you are telling my son is now a father and didn’t tell ?" she muttered bitterly. "He kept it from ..."
Amanda’s voice rose again. "Exactly! He didn’t even think to tell you! He’s hiding it because he knows what it ans. Because he knows if you find out, you’ll stop him. And that’s why he’s sneaking around—because the past is happening again."
Brenda’s brow furrowed as her grip on the phone tightened angrily.
"She’s crawling back into everything you’ve built. And you’re just watching it happen like it’s nothing." Amanda gave a snarky comnt. She wanted Brenda to understand the gravity of the situation on ground.
"She isn’t stupid, Brenda. I’m very sure she’s using those kids to rope him in. She knew what she was doing. She’d planned it since the mont we stayed in this hotel."
Brenda’s face twisted with rage as she stood in the middle of her pristine sitting room, the lights dimd, her wine glass forgotten on the side table. Her nails dug into her palm. Her son. Her own precious son had hidden this from her.
"You said she was long gone," Amanda added bitterly. "You said she wasn’t a threat. But look where we are now. She’s not just back—she’s taking him away."
Amanda’s voice lowered, a bitter whisper. "He always stares at her, Brenda. Every ti she’s around, he smiles at her. Follows her with his eyes like a fool. She doesn’t even need to try. And it’s working. He’s forgetting everything. Forgetting why she was sent away. Forgetting our contr—I an marriage." She nearly slipped out the word contract. Brenda mustn’t know about that yet.
Brenda, "..."
"Do you know how that feels? Watching him run back to a woman who ruined him the first ti?"
Brenda exhaled, her jaw tight as her eyes narrowed, and her breath ca through her nose sharply.
"And he said, he doesn’t mind divorcing —," Amanda went on, voice barely a whisper now. "Divorcing if I ever threatened Kather—"
"Enough." Brenda’s voice ca sharply from the receiver.
"What?"
Brenda’s voice was low but sharp, a tone Amanda recognized all too well. "I said enough, Amanda." She wasn’t requesting. Brenda was telling her to shut her trap.
Amanda stood up again in anger, her voice picking up speed. "If you let this continue, you’re going to lose him. You won’t be able to stop it. Katherine’s already moved back into his head, his life—"
"I said I’ll handle it!" Brenda snapped.
Amanda’s eyes widened in shock. Brenda snapped at her? She was just trying to explain her dilemma so that Brenda would understand. She felt her eyes sting with tears and sniffed.
"You’ve said enough," Brenda said softly. "I’ll take care of it."
Before Amanda could reply, Brenda hung up and the screen went black in her hand.
Amanda stared down at her phone in shock. Her hand trembled slightly as she lowered it to her side, her mind going haywire. Had she gone too far? Had she pushed too hard? But—
.
Across town, Brenda lowered her phone slowly onto the table, her fingers trembling not from fear but from the fury building slowly in her bones.
He didn’t tell .
He knew. And he didn’t tell .
Her son—the boy she had protected, shaped, raised—had taken this enormous step without her. Behind her back.
That girl had slithered back into their lives like a snake in the grass. And now she had children—his children—wrapping around him like vine.
Brenda thought she was gone. The report she received was that Katherine was gone. But now, she was back to tornt her life—that, she wouldn’t accept. She’d send her back to where she ca from.
Brenda’s hand wrapped over the stem of her untouched wine glass as she lifted it to her lips, took a slow sip, and set it down with a soft clink.
She exhaled, grabbing her phone and calling the only number that could get her work done faster and quicker.
"Hello, are you available for a quick job?"
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