Page 72 of Twisted Love

I sit up straighter, the tension in her voice setting me on edge. “Who is it?”

“It’s … it’s Mr. Belafonte. Charles Belafonte,” she says and there is disapproval in her voice. “and he … well, he let himself in. He knows the house too well—he’s lived here all his life so … I couldn't stop... I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jackson.”

My stomach knots. Charles! I’ve ignored his calls, his texts, his attempts to reach me, hoping he’d get the message and leave me alone. The last thing I want is to deal with him now, but I can see the worry in Nora’s eyes.

“Should I call the police?” she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“No. Of course not,” I say quickly, forcing my voice to remain calm despite the alarm coursing through me. “It’s okay. Let him in. I’ll handle it.”

Nora hesitates for a moment, but she nods and disappears down the hallway. I take a deep breath and brace myself. Charles’s persistence has always been unnerving, but the thought of him escalating things right now when Earl and I have just started to find each other again feels worse somehow.

Moments later, I hear his footsteps approaching. The conservatory suddenly feels smaller as I wait. When Charles steps into the room, his presence feels invasive, like a gust of cold air forcing its way inside.

“Raven,” he says, his voice smooth but with an edge that sets my nerves alight. “I heard on the grapevine that you’re not feeling well.”

I steel myself, meeting his gaze head-on. “Charles,” I say, my tone carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”

Charles’s smile doesn’t falter, and something about it feels wrong, sending a ripple of unease through me. He steps closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the tiled floor. The light filtering through the glass walls catches on his features, illuminating the intensity of his gaze.

“You know,” he begins, his tone unnervingly casual, “I was livid when you wouldn’t answer my calls. Weeks, Raven. It’s been weeks since I’ve been trying to reach you, but you’ve refused to respond to even one message.”

“Charles,” I start, my voice careful and steady, because something about him feels off. “I’ve been … preoccupied. With my father, with everything happening in my life, and as you can see I’ve been unwell for more than two weeks.”

He tilts his head slightly, his expression almost mocking. “I know,” he says, his voice dipping lower. “But I wanted to ask you something. Something has been bothering me. Did you ever love me? Did your mother never teach you that the worst way to leave a man is to leave them at the altar? And even if you do, you’re not supposed to turn around and marry someone else in the same dress?”

My heart stutters at his words, a pang of guilt shooting through me despite the steeliness I try to maintain. His eyes burn into mine, and for a moment, I can’t find the words to respond.

“I … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had to. You always knew I was marrying you because you promised to help my dad. When I found out you lied and you wouldn’t be able to, I had no choice but to consider our contract to be null and void. It was never my intention to humiliate you, but you have to understand?—”

“I do understand,” Charles interrupts, his voice hardening as he takes another step closer. “At first, I was in shock. And yes, I’ll admit it—ashamed. But then I started to think, to really think, and I remembered something important. I know you, Raven. I know you inside and out and I know you’re no gold digger. I love you. I always have and always will.”

The conviction in his tone makes my stomach twist with dread. I force myself to hold his gaze, even as every instinct tells me to run.

“Earl—” he spits the name like a curse—“that jackass might think you’re some kind of whore, but I know the truth. You wanted to take care of your dad. You’d do anything for the people you love, even if it means marrying a good-for-nothing loser like him.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. My hands tremble slightly, but I press them firmly against my thighs to steady myself. “Charles, you’re out of line?—”

“Am I?” he cuts in, his voice rising just enough to echo off the conservatory walls. He takes another step, leaning closer as his eyes flash with something I can only describe as desperation. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Raven. You didn’t see it at the time, but I get it now. I understand now why you left me, and you know what? I love you even more for it.”

A bead of cold sweat prickles at the back of my neck. His words feel like quicksand pulling me under.

Charles exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Anyway,” he says, his tone shifting to something almost jubilant, “I’ve got good news. Really good news.”

I blink at him, too stunned to respond.

He grins suddenly, the expression wide and unsettling. “I’ve come into money. A lot of it. My father, God bless the man’s heart, planned ahead. He knew there might be financial difficulties down the line, so he allocated some extra funds—hedge funds managed by a brilliant investor. Turns out, those funds have yielded millions over the years. Millions, Raven.”

My pulse thrums in my ears as he continues, his words tumbling out faster now, his excitement building.

“Do you know what that means? It means you don’t need to stay with Earl anymore. You can divorce him and come back to me, Raven. I can take care of your father. I can take care of you. We can pick up right where we left off.”

His words hang in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. My mind races, trying to process his words—the audacity of his assumptions, the blatant disregard for what I might want, the sheer arrogance of thinking I’d go back to him just because he has come into money.

My stomach churns, and I force myself to stand, the motion unsteady but resolute. “Charles,” I say, my voice low but firm, “I’ve never lied to you before and I’m not going to start now. I love Earl and I always have. I was willing to try and make a life with you, but fate intervened, and now I can’t imagine a life without anyone but Earl. You need to leave before Earl comes back.”

Charles’s face contorts at my words, his expression a blend of disbelief and fury, as though he can’t comprehend what I’ve just said. His lips twitch, his nostrils flare, and he takes a step forward, his voice tight with restrained anger.

“Why?” he demands, the word sharp and jagged, cutting through the air. “Why are you telling me to leave, Raven? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Money to take care of your father? Now you have it! So why won’t you even give me the time of day?”

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