Chapter 4 Heiress

• Was it because of Carol's wedding that he was drowning his sorrows? A bitter irony twisted in my gut.
• "Henry was just using you to spite me today. Don't take it seriously."
• Carol's words echoed in my mind.
• If that was the case, I'd play along.
• Fueled by a potent cocktail of alcohol, resentment, anger, and a thirst for revenge, I made a reckless decision. Seeing Henry alone at the bar, a plan formed in my mind.
• I asked a friend to take Freya home and then approached the owner of Nightingale Bar and asked him to spike Henry's drink discreetly.
• Everything went according to plan ...
• The moment we entered the hotel room, he pressed me against the door, his desire evident.
• His hands roamed over my body, igniting a fire within me. An unfamiliar heat spread through me, threatening to consume me entirely.
• "Henry, let go," I murmured, feeling dizzy as I pushed against his firm chest.
• Regret washed over me. I was terrified of what was about to happen, terrified of the disgust I might see in his eyes when he sobered up.
• But he wouldn't be deterred. His touch grew more insistent, his breath hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. My body's response was both a source of shame and an irresistible force.
• Fine, I didn't care anymore.
• At least he was someone I had feelings for. Once he fell asleep, I would take a few photos and leave. He was drunk; he'd likely forget everything by morning.
• A sudden, sharp pain ripped through me, causing me to gasp.
• He chuckled hoarsely, his voice laced with mockery. "Don't want it? Then why drug me? Afraid I can't perform?"
• I regretted my impulsive actions as exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted into unconsciousness.
• When I awoke, every muscle ached. His rhythmic breathing beside me made my heart race. I quickly snapped a few suggestive photos and sent them off.
• "Carol ... " he mumbled in his sleep.
• My heart skipped a beat. Carol?
• Even in his dreams, he called out her name. He must truly care for her.
• A wave of bitterness washed over me. The realisation that I would likely never see him again after tonight pierced me with a sharp, unbearable pain.
• I got out of bed, pulled on my wrinkled clothes, and quietly left the room with shaky legs.
• Leaving the hotel felt surreal. I couldn't believe the rash, alcohol-fueled actions I had taken.
• After returning to my apartment to shower and change, I headed to the hospital to see my mother.
• She was awake now, and I wanted to ask about the photos.
• But the fear of upsetting her held me back.
• It was Monday, and just over two days remained until the surgery.
• I arrived at the office at 8:30 AM, sat down at my desk, and called Freya to borrow money.
• But her father had frozen all her accounts. She transferred her secret stash to me, which amounted to less than five thousand dollars.
• Still far from the thirty thousand dollars I needed, I spent the rest of the morning distracted and worried.
• Near lunchtime, a tap on my shoulder startled me.
• "What is it?" I asked, turning to see my colleague, Evelyn Kirk, staring at me with a shocked expression. "Jasmine," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "are you really the heiress to the Newton Group?"
• I frowned, confused. "Where did you hear that?"
• The Newton Group had been founded with my grandparents' retirement savings. Back then, my father had been penniless, and my grandparents had opposed their marriage. It was only due to my mother's insistence that they had relented.
• Now, the Newton Group was a well-known enterprise in the city, but I had never disclosed my family background to anyone outside.
• Evelyn held out her phone, a complex expression on her face. "Look, is this you?"
• The headline blared. 'Newton Group's Heiress Jasmine Newton Spends Night with an Unknown, Allegedly Male Escort.'
• The article painted a lurid picture of my supposed depraved lifestyle.
• The accompanying photos were the ones I had sent to Carol that morning. In a moment of spite, I had taken them close to Henry, exposing the love bites on my shoulder.
• Henry had been labelled a male escort.
• My mind reeled as I stared at the screen, the blood draining from my face.
• I had only sent those photos to Carol!
• My phone rang, and I answered it to hear Carol's mocking voice on the other end. "So, do you like this gift?"
• Fury coursed through me. "It was you! It's always you!"
• She laughed. "Sure, it was me. I know you're upset about your mum and sent those photos to provoke me. I won't deny I like Henry, but I like money even more."
• I clenched my teeth, trying to control my anger. "So, feelings mean nothing to you?"
• "Feelings depend on the circumstances," she sneered. "Henry is just a vice president of a small company. If you like him, he's all yours. However, Ms. Newton, your reputation is ruined."