Shattered Promises

Bursts of laughter drifted from the living room as Cora stepped into the house where she had grown up. She had only been gone for a day, yet the familiar place already felt strangely distant and cold.

Helena and Sloane were lounging in the living room, giggling over some show on the television, with her father nowhere in sight. Cora greeted them quietly, only to be met with icy silence. Brushing past their hostility, she looked around for her dad instead.

“Dad?” she called out.

“What are you doing back here?” Helena asked abruptly, clicking off the television.

Cora arched a brow at her tone. “Am I no longer allowed to visit my own home?”

Sloane let out a mocking laugh. “Your home? Have you already forgotten that you belong in whatever run-down apartment you and your broke husband can afford?”

A sharp ache pulled at Cora’s chest as Helena and Sloane cackled, clearly pleased with themselves. She was about to call for her father again when he walked into the room.

“What is going on in here?” he asked.

“Hi, Dad,” Cora said quickly. “Could I speak with you in private for a moment, please?”

“Nobody keeps secrets under this roof,” Helena cut in smoothly, and her father nodded in agreement. “Whatever you came here to say, you can say it right in front of all of us.”

Cora drew a breath and cut straight to the point. “I came for the money, Dad. You promised you’d cover Mom’s medical bills if I married Dom.”

“Cora,” her father began, his tone flat. “I’m afraid I can’t help you right now. Our funds are stretched thin at the moment, though I might be able to help in a couple of months.”

“Dad… no, you gave me your word,” she choked out, her heart shattering in her chest. “Dad, she’s going to die if you don’t help me. Do you not even care about her life?”

“You heard what he said, Cora,” Trent spoke up casually. She hadn’t even noticed him stroll into the room. “Cash is tight right now, and it makes far more sense to put what we have toward our own needs rather than wasting it all on a lost cause.”

“Dad,” she gasped out, barely able to string a sentence together. Dropping to her knees as hot tears spilled over her lashes, she pleaded with him. “Dad, please, don’t let Mom die.”

“Oh, please, save the dramatics!” Helena spat in disgust. “It’s high time you opened your eyes, Cora. Your mother is gone—she’s been gone for a long time now, and there’s no point throwing away millions of dollars on her.”

Cora tuned Helena out and kept her gaze fixed on her father. Maybe the warm, caring dad she used to know was still buried in there somewhere; maybe if she pleaded hard enough, he would show her some mercy.

“I’m running late for a meeting, Cora, so I’ll call you when we’re able to help,” he said flatly. “For now, you should head back to your husband.”

Without looking back once, her father stepped right around her and walked out of the room. Suffocating pain pressed down on her chest until she felt ready to pass out. Forcing herself upright, she walked out of the house, tuning out the vicious insults Helena and Sloane hurled after her.

She flagged down a cab and rode back to the apartment, her mind still too numb to think straight. Thankfully, Dom wasn’t home when she let herself inside; she had zero desire to explain her tear-stained face to anyone.

Climbing onto the bed, she curled into a tight ball on her side with tears still tracking down her cheeks, only to feel something stiff press into her thigh. It was the card in her pocket. Digging her hand inside, she pulled the small rectangle out and stared down at the ornate gold lettering.

She knew full well what she had to do now. She wished it hadn’t come to this, yet her father had left her with no other choice. She would do whatever it took to save her mother.

An hour later, Cora stood outside a pair of tall, heavy gates. She wasn’t sure what she had pictured a gentlemen’s club would look like, yet the estate before her caught her completely off guard. She had expected the address to lead to an underground venue with flashing strobe lights, not a grand stone building that looked as though it had stood there for decades.

Stepping toward the entrance, she had no idea what to say to the guards stationed by the gate. Was she supposed to come right out and tell them she was here to sell her body? Were they going to ask? She braced herself to be turned away, yet the guards merely glanced at the card in her hand, gave her a brief nod, and pulled the gates open.

“Thanks,” she whispered under her breath.

There was no judgment in their expressions, leaving her to wonder if they even knew why she had come. Did they simply wave through anyone holding a card, or were they just used to it?

Keeping her head bowed, she walked inside at a slow, measured pace. She wore a simple, form-fitting black dress and a mask secured over her eyes. She had no clue what sort of men frequented this place, and there was no harm in being cautious when she couldn’t afford to let anyone recognize her.

The woman at the front desk offered a polite smile as Cora approached, gesturing toward a staircase nearby to direct her to a room upstairs. “They’ve been waiting for you,” she said.

Cora found that strange—how did anyone here know she was coming tonight? Had the nurse from the hospital somehow found a way to tip them off? Perhaps she had, yet Cora asked no questions, giving a quiet nod before heading up the stairs.

She was only halfway up the steps when an intimidating figure came striding down from the landing above. Her plan had been to ignore everyone around her and focus strictly on why she was here, yet she glanced up for a split second—and her stomach dropped as she froze in place.

Coming down the stairs directly in front of her was her childhood friend and Dom’s brother, Nash—and right behind him was Dom.

There wasn’t a split second for her to react. Dom’s gaze was already locked straight onto hers.