My Cheating Ex Regrets Losing The Heiress

The floorboards of the second-floor hallway groaned under Elvera's worn sneakers. The sound was a familiar, irritating whine in the cramped Brooklyn house, but today, it felt heavier. The air was thick with the smell of cheap vanilla perfume and stale sweat.

At the end of the narrow corridor, Donita's bedroom door stood cracked open. A sliver of harsh, yellow light spilled onto the scuffed hardwood floor.

Elvera stopped. Her breathing was slow, even. From the gap in the door, a sickeningly sweet, breathless giggle leaked out, followed by the low, wet sound of skin slapping against skin.

Elvera didn't gasp. Her stomach didn't drop. She simply reached out, her cool fingers wrapping around the brass doorknob, and pushed.

The door swung inward. The bright overhead light hit Elvera's eyes, making her squint for a fraction of a second. When her vision cleared, the scene in front of her was exactly as pathetic as she had anticipated.

Donita was straddling Crockett's lap on the edge of the unmade bed.

At the sound of the door hitting the wall, Donita let out a high-pitched, entirely manufactured shriek. She scrambled backward, her hands frantically yanking up the thin strap of her silk camisole to cover her collarbone.

Crockett didn't push Donita away. Instead, his hands lingered on her waist. He tilted his head back, looking past Donita's shoulder to lock eyes with Elvera. A smug, challenging smirk twisted his lips. He was waiting for the tears. He was waiting for Elvera's chest to heave, for her voice to break.

Elvera just stood there. She slowly raised a single, perfectly arched eyebrow.

The absolute lack of reaction hit Crockett like a physical blow. The smirk slid off his face. His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking under his skin. He shoved Donita off his lap and stood up, his hands aggressively smoothing down the wrinkles in his expensive dress shirt.

"You don't know how to knock?" Donita whimpered. She ducked behind Crockett's broad back, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. She bit her lower lip, forcing her eyes to widen into pools of fake, trembling innocence. "Elvera, you scared me."

Elvera crossed her arms over her chest. A dry, humorless laugh scraped the back of her throat.

"If you two are going to act like animals in heat, you could at least chip in for a cheap motel room," Elvera said. Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "Doing it in your childhood bedroom is just sad, Donita."

Heavy, frantic footsteps pounded on the wooden stairs behind Elvera.

Frona charged down the hallway, her sharp heels digging into the floorboards. She shoved past Elvera, her shoulder colliding hard with Elvera's collarbone, and squeezed into the bedroom.

Frona took one look at Donita's disheveled state and immediately threw her arms open, shielding her biological daughter.

Frona whipped her head around, her face flushed a dark, mottled red. She pointed a trembling finger inches from Elvera's nose.

"You ungrateful, uneducated Brooklyn street