Chapter 3
Zeke got to his feet, staring at me like I was the worst kind of monster. "Mrs. Steele was still barely conscious when I arrived. She told me you pushed her down the stairs. Why would I frame you?
"Do you honestly think someone like me, the heir to the Lannings, would go out of my way to set up a gold-digging social climber like you?"
The alcohol from my hair trickled into my eyes, stinging and blurring my vision. Around me, Helga's friends kept chiming in.
"Exactly. Why would Mr. Lanning frame you? You're just greedy. How could you hurt Mrs. Steele after everything Helga's done for you?"
"You're not climbing back up, Xavier, not while we're around."
I didn't care what they said. I just needed Helga to hold on a little longer. Not that I was afraid, but with Mom being sick, I had responsibilities. I couldn't risk another incident or losing my job.
I turned to Helga, my voice nearly pleading. "Ms. Steele, just wait until Rosa comes to. Then we'll know what really happened."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face as her eyes met mine, then she scoffed. "Oh, so now it's 'Ms. Steele?' That was quick."
I offered her a thin smile. "I learned a lot from you, Ms. Steele."
She pressed her lips together. "We don't need you here. Get out."
I let out a quiet sigh of relief and headed to the shower area to wash the alcohol off me. Then, a wave of perfume hit me from behind, and suddenly, I was shoved against the wall.
"Why wash it off? That wine smells good on you." Maeve pinned me there, leaning in until her breath brushed my ear. "Are you mad because I got you slapped?"
I kept my smile easy. "The customer's always right, Ms. Sommer."
"Xavier, since Helga's done with you, you could always consider me. After all, we knew each other first in college. So, how did you end up falling for her? Was it because her family was richer than mine?"
What kind of game were these people playing? Were they testing me again to see if I was some kind of scumbag?
They should cut me some slack. Even if a literal goddess threw herself at me, the only thing on my mind would be earning enough to save Mom. After that, every spare penny goes to my legal fees.
"I can't stand that cold, arrogant look on your face. You've been knocked down into the dirt, yet still act like you're better than everyone else. What do you even have left to be proud of?" Maeve mocked.
When I didn't answer, she shoved me aside and went to wash her hands.
I couldn't be bothered with Maeve, so I made straight for the door.
She was a reckless heiress who played around, and none of her flings had ever lasted more than a month. Even if she hadn't been testing me earlier, she was just playing games with me.
I was about to leave when Maeve leaned against the wall, wiping her hands with a tissue. She raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Hey, Xavier, I meant what I said. If you change your mind and are really desperate for cash, I'm more generous than that woman outside. I'll give you six figures, at least, each time."
I heard footsteps approaching and knew it was Helga just by the rhythm. We'd been married so long, after all.
"Six figures each time? What exactly would you have me do, Ms. Sommer?" I asked.
The footsteps outside stopped. Helga didn't enter—she was eavesdropping.
"Actually, I was the one who wrote those love letters Helga sent you. But those feelings in them? They were real," Maeve said, stepping closer.
Suddenly, Helga burst in and slapped Maeve across the face.
The blow was hard, and Maeve's cheek swelled instantly. Helga's long acrylic nails left angry red scratches down her face.
I smirked.
Helga couldn't stand it when the people closest to her weren't genuine.
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