Unveiling the Villain

LAUREN

Beth’s smile vanished when she saw me at her doorstep. Her eyes scanned my face, and whatever she saw made her step back.

That’s when the tears I’d been holding back surged up, choking me until I had no choice but to let them out. I sobbed, a raw, painful sound that had been building inside me for too long.

I threw my arms around Beth, holding onto her like she was my only lifeline. She wrapped her arms around me, and I clung to her, my sobs coming out in choked gasps, like I was trying to breathe but couldn’t.

All the pain I’d buried for years came rushing back. I cried for all those nights I’d seen my dad crying over my mom when he thought I was asleep. I cried for all the times I’d defended my mom against mean girls at school, only to regret it later. I cried for my dad, who would be even more hurt than me to find out she’d remarried.

She’d left us for someone richer.

I also cried for my foolish heart, for the love I still felt for the man who had hurt me so deeply. My disappointment was immeasurable, my heartbreak beyond words.

Every moment I’d spent with him was now tainted. The tenderness I’d once seen in him meant nothing.

It had all been a setup for that moment when he’d remind me that he was still the same man everyone else knew. A man who only cared about himself.

All my dreams of a happy life with him—a life where he loved me, a relationship built on love and trust—were shattered.

He wasn’t the man I’d thought he was.

He’d tricked me into believing there was something good in him that only I could see. I’d put too much faith in him, in his ability to change how he saw women, how he treated people.

His smile, his laugh, his teasing, his tender moments—it was all a mask.

He’d fooled my dad and my friends just like he’d fooled me.

They say love is blind. They’re right.

Every time I thought of him, my heart broke all over again.

Every moment I spent in Beth’s arms, I remembered how easily he’d let me go.

I didn’t hide anything from Beth. I told her everything that had happened with Mason, and she cried with me.

She didn’t blame me for walking away from him.

In fact, she was glad I wasn’t going to live with him anymore. She said anyone who couldn’t understand the pain my mom had left me with didn’t deserve my love.

She was right. He didn’t deserve anything from me.

There was no chance of forgiveness.

What he’d done was something I couldn’t come back from. He hadn’t done it out of ignorance, he’d done it on purpose.

He’d meant to hurt me. That was the worst part.

I looked at myself in the mirror. All I felt was a deep, burning rage. My tears were gone, leaving only the stains on my cheeks as evidence.

As I stared at my reflection, at my dry, empty eyes, I realized I’d never escape my mother’s shadow.

Even when she was gone, she’d left her mark on me.

I wouldn’t shed another tear for Mason.

Yes, there would be pain, but I wouldn’t cry for him.

I refused to cry for someone who didn’t deserve my tears.

And my heart, the heart that still loved him, was buried deep inside me. I wished I could stop loving him, wished I could control who my heart loved and hated. But all I could do was try to ignore it.

Beth was still asleep, unaware of the decision I’d made.

If she knew, she’d try to stop me. If she knew, she’d try to follow me, and that would be a disaster.

I didn’t need her to know what I was going to do. I wasn’t even sure I could do it, but I had to. For myself.

If I didn’t do it, I’d never move on.

I called Athena at three in the morning, surprised when she picked up.

When I told her what I needed, she gave it to me without question, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

She didn’t ask why I needed it. When I got it, my chest felt tighter than ever.

The next morning, I acted like nothing had happened.

Beth tried to get me to talk, but I told her I didn’t want to.

One of the things my dad had taught me was that dwelling on the things that hurt us doesn’t help. Accept it and move on.

If you keep revisiting it, you’ll find yourself stuck, hurting even more.

Of course, I didn’t tell Beth that. I just asked her not to talk about it, and she agreed.

But that morning, I could see her tiptoeing around me, nervous and unsure of what to say. It was almost funny.

Like right now, all dressed up and ready for work, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment.

She fidgeted, chewed on her lip, and kept glancing at me.

“Do you need me to stay?” she asked.

“For what?” I replied, not taking my eyes off the TV. I was more interested in my show than in my best friend’s nervousness.

“I don’t know, we could binge-watch ~Bridget Jones’s Diary~. Would you like that?”

“Go to work.”

“I don’t really want to leave you alone right now.”

“What do you think is going to happen when you leave?”

She hesitated, but she knew she had to tell the truth.

“I don’t know! You might do something rash.”

I let out a forced laugh at the worried tone in her voice, then turned to her from my spot on the couch, offering a strained smile. “Beth, head to work. I’m okay.”

“How can you be okay? Your jerk of a husband and your mean mother are in cahoots, Lauren. You’re allowed to lose it.

“If I were you, I’d be tearing this place apart,” she muttered, and I knew she meant it.

A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I swallowed it down and leaned back against the couch.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as my eyes drifted back to the TV screen. “Now go to work.”

“Are you sure?” Beth’s voice was a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

“Beth.” I groaned her name. “I just want to watch my show and you’re going to be late.”

“Okay, bye! The baseball bat is under my bed if you need it. Please, don’t break my dishes or set the kitchen on fire. If you need to vent, you can do the laundry,” she rattled off as she headed for the door.

“Okay, love you! Bye!” As the door slammed shut, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes.

I counted to ten, then stayed in that position for five more minutes to make sure she wouldn’t come back unexpectedly. Then I was up and heading to my room.

Beth didn’t know that I had already showered, and all I needed was to change my clothes and brush my hair.

Other than that, I was ready to go.

Huddleston Motors was a well-known company. Not the most popular, but it held its own.

They designed, made, and sold vehicles and vehicle parts, with their main office in Liverpool.

They had several branches in five countries, including Scotland.

From what I had found out, it was started by the late Steve Huddleston twenty-eight years ago.

Steve Huddleston remarried thirteen years ago after his wife died mysteriously in a car crash. He died a year ago from a heart attack, leaving behind his second wife and three kids.

His wife, Ginny Huddleston, became the CEO of Huddleston Motors shortly after his death. There was no mention of them having kids together.

I had spent an hour looking at the family pictures, learning nothing except that they seemed like a happy family. In every picture, Ginny was standing next to her husband or his kids.

The only thing I could tell from the pictures was that there was some tension between her and Garrett, as he always looked stiff with a forced smile, and he never stood directly next to Ginny.

The last thing I needed was for anyone to know I was here, at Huddleston Motors.

I had already decided to do this, to look for the answers I knew wouldn’t come to me just by sitting at home.

I was nervous and on edge, and by the time I walked into the company, it was too late to turn back.

I was already approaching the receptionist, saying, “Hi, I’m here to see Ginny Huddleston.”

I wasn’t even sure I was going to see her considering this was a surprise visit and I hadn’t scheduled a meeting.

But I wasn’t going to leave here without seeing her.

He didn’t look at his computer or deny my request, or even ask my name or if I had scheduled a meeting with his boss.

He simply, with a charming smile and the face of someone who had just won the lottery, said, “Lauren Hart?” Like he had been expecting me.

So, she knew I would be here.

Of course, she knew I would be here. This realization made my stomach churn.

She hadn’t been with me in fourteen years but knew me enough to know I would seek her out.

I hated that Ginny thought she knew me.

“Yes,” I said, trying not to sound too harsh. He wasn’t the one who had turned my world upside down. He wasn’t the one causing me pain.

He wasn’t the one who had abandoned me and was working with the man I loved.

“Can I see her?”

He nodded, signaled someone over, and whispered in her ear. She nodded, taking his place at the desk. The exchange made me feel uneasy, but not enough to make me leave.

Nothing would make me leave this building without talking to my birth mother.

“Follow me, please.”

He didn’t need to say it because I would. I didn’t bother looking around Huddleston Motors, the company wasn’t the most important thing on my mind.

Besides, it felt like it was filled with bad energy, and I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

We stopped in front of a white door, and he knocked, waited two seconds, then opened it and stepped aside to let me in.

I didn’t hesitate before I walked into the office. I heard the door close gently behind me, and I turned to face the woman in front of me.

Ginny Huddleston looked like a villain from a story, sitting behind her desk, and there was no doubt that she was my mother.

She was wearing a black blazer over a black dress. She looked polished and expensive.

Her blonde, wavy hair fell down her shoulders and her lips were painted with red lipstick.

She looked at me with a neutral expression, pointing at the chair in front of her. “Sit.”

When I didn’t move, she let out a little huff. “Sit down, Lauren. If you’re going to be difficult about it, just remember that I don’t have all day. I canceled important meetings to talk to you.”

Bitch.

I glared at her as I sat down in the chair, now looking straight at her, and I felt uneasy under her cold, unfamiliar gaze.

“Why are you back, Ginny?” I got straight to the point. I didn’t come here to learn about her likes and dislikes, her favorite movie, or her favorite dessert.

“What do you want from me?” I stared at her, hoping my gaze was as icy as hers.

“Do you like the office?” She ignored my question, looking around the office that looked like it belonged to Voldemort or someone with no soul.

She went on. “This place used to be so drab, so lifeless. I couldn’t stand it. When my husband passed away, I had it redone to suit my tastes. I got rid of everything that was his.” She seemed quite pleased with herself.

I held onto the chair I was sitting on, the wood biting into my hands.

“I don’t give a damn.”

She dismissed me with a wave of her manicured, red-tipped hand.

“But you see, you have to give a damn. You have to care about every single word I say, Lauren. Starting with your father. How is he? I heard he’s getting the best treatment in the country.”

“That’s none of your business,” I shot back.

Her smile spread across her face like she was getting a kick out of my reactions.

“You know, the first time I met your father, it was love at first sight. Did you know his family can’t stand me?”

“Yes, but now I understand why they can’t stand you. You’re the worst thing that ever happened to him. You took him away from his family.”

Even after all these years, Dad couldn’t bring himself to talk to any member of his family, and I knew he missed them terribly, even though he rarely admitted it.

What was a person without a family?

Ginny threw her head back and laughed.

“Worst thing? He was the worst thing that ever happened to me.” Her voice dripped with contempt.

“I didn’t sign up to be married to a poor man. That’s who your dad was, Lauren. After his family cut him off, everything he owned was taken away from him.”

Her jaw set in a hard line.

I took a deep, shaky breath, my mind racing.

“What? What are you saying?” With each word, my heart pounded harder until I was sure it would burst out of my chest.

I couldn’t believe she was saying all these things as if they were delightful, as if she wasn’t talking about my dad.

As if she wasn’t telling me, her daughter, that my dad was her biggest mistake. Right to my face.

Her eyes, which used to be warm, turned cold. “I didn’t love your father. I loved him when he had everything to make me happy.”

I gasped for breath, a sharp pain stabbing me at her words. I stared at her as if I was seeing her for the first time. And I didn’t fucking like it.

Not one bit.

And she didn’t hesitate to turn her condescending gaze on me.

“Don’t look at me like that. I grew up in a trailer with a drunk father and a whore mother. We were poor. I had nothing, and I dreamed of being with someone who would give me the world.”

A pain like I’d never felt before sliced through my chest and coiled in my stomach. A fierce cramp seized me.

“If you hated him when he lost everything, why did you marry him?” I cried, unable to accept that my parents’ marriage had been devoid of love. At least, on Ginny’s part.

I couldn’t accept that Ginny had never loved Dad when she never gave me a reason to doubt it.

Even when I grew older and started understanding they had problems, I never would have thought it was because she didn’t love him.

“Because I was pregnant with you. I couldn’t leave him and raise you alone.” She grimaced, her mouth twisting like she had tasted something sour. “I needed him.

“Do you know how bad that would have been for you? In a way, you should thank me for the life you had, a good one, rather than the one you would have had with me.”

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, hissing at the throbbing pain I felt as I gritted my teeth. Hard.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, a growl of fury underscoring my words. “Really, fuck you.” What kind of a mother says things like that? She felt no remorse.

She flushed, anger making red splotches across her cheeks, but she didn’t lose the cool in her voice. “Still ungrateful, I see.”

Her response left me gobsmacked, at a total loss of words. She had successfully killed the little love and respect I had left for her.

It was dead, annihilated, and she was the only one to blame, for she was the one who had killed it.

“All those years, you lied to him. You made him believe that you loved him,” I snapped, seized by a wave of nausea.

The words felt ripped from my gut. Inside, I throbbed, raw and broken.

“Made him believe? Do you think your father is dumb?

“All those times I used to sneak out in the night and the cold shoulders I gave him, the calls I used to answer in private, do you honestly think he didn’t know what was going on?”

As her words vibrated the air around us and the realization kicked in. I gripped the edge of the chair a fraction harder.

If I were holding something fragile, it would have cracked, cut my hand, and let my mother’s blood flow through her expensive rug.

A thought hit me so hard and fast that I gasped. “You were having an affair.” My voice cracked.

“It started happening before you were born, and I couldn’t stop. I fell in love with Steve. He gave me everything your father didn’t. He promised me riches, Lauren.”

Her words seared my heart and branded me with misery. “You left your family for money? Your daughter for your own selfish needs?”

My lips thinned with obvious anger, and I was caught between the wish to cry and the urge to rage at her.

These little facts that I started to learn changed everything, ruined every good memory of my childhood.

I had to avoid breaking down in front of her. I could not start crying hysterically right now, no matter how much I wanted to.

Her face tightened into a deep scowl.

“You don’t know what it was like growing up with nothing, fighting for something to eat, and trying to survive. I’m suddenly a bad person if I wanted better for myself?”

I stared at her. “How does what you did make you a good person? But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve got what you have always wanted.”

“I fought for it. It didn’t just fall into my hand like yours did, Lauren.”

The muscles of my jaw seemed to freeze. “Is that why you’re here?” A curious tightness settled around my heart. “Mason?”

Her eyes danced, but she didn’t budge an inch. “I’m here strictly for business, and your husband is a savvy businessman. We both had something the other wanted. That’s why I’m here.”

Her tone shifted, her jaw tightened, and her eyes turned frosty. It hit me then that there was more to this, something I couldn’t quite grasp.

Something hidden that I wasn’t being told.

“What are you after, Ginny? You must know, Mason isn’t your run-of-the-mill guy. I bet you’ve heard tales about him.”

“If you believe for even a second that you can manipulate him, then you’re in for a fucking shock. I don’t know what he wants from you, but it must be significant if he made you his partner.

“He doesn’t share anything with anyone.”

“You certainly know your husband well, darling. But you don’t know me. I don’t fear men. If I did, my husband would still be breathing.”

“What are you implying?” A wave of fear washed over me, its origin unknown. “What did you do?”

She smirked and confessed in a honeyed voice.

“I poisoned him and took over everything he owned. It was surprisingly easy. People these days are all about the money. Money can make anything possible.”

“You did what?” Fear gripped me, and I was simultaneously horrified and shocked, my body frozen in sheer terror.

“Lauren, don’t look at me like that. Steve was far from a good husband.”

I watched her, my face pale and tense, as she rose and walked over to the bar, pouring herself a scotch before swiveling to face me.

“He was a serial cheater, and his debts would have sunk this company if I hadn’t stepped in to salvage what was left.”

She lifted the glass to her lips and paused.

“He was a terrible man, Lauren. I suffered greatly at his hands, but I’m relieved his chapter is over.”

My stomach plummeted. She had just confessed to murder.

Ginny had poisoned and ended a life, and she was ~proud of it~.

I felt nauseous.

“Do his kids know you killed their dad?” I asked, my voice trembling with fear.

“I’m not an idiot, Lauren,” she replied, her voice devoid of emotion, which meant they didn’t know.

If they did, she’d be behind bars.

I mustered up some courage to threaten her. “What if I just tell everyone? About how you poisoned your husband and covered it up.

“I’m sure the cops and your stepkids would be thrilled to hear that. It would save me the trouble of getting you out of here.”

Ginny straightened up, her shoulders squared in her blazer. The wicked curve of her lips made my stomach churn, signaling that this wasn’t the woman I thought I knew.

She was dangerous, someone with a mission and a thirst for victory.

“Try that and I’ll hurt you in a way you won’t see coming.” She smiled, her sweetness sickeningly fake. “Your dad is your weak spot, isn’t he? Your friend, Beth? Maybe, Mason?”

She delivered the threat with such a cold, indifferent tone that I questioned if this woman was the one who gave birth to me, the one who sang on my birthdays and baked cookies for me and Beth.

I stuttered before staring at her in disbelief. She had just threatened to harm the people I loved.

The threat hit home, and fear consumed me.

“Don’t…”

Her eyes were ruthless. “You’d do well to remember not to threaten me again.”

“What do you want? What will it take for you to leave us alone?” I barely recognized my own voice, it was so weak.

I was scared of her.

“I’m here to collect a debt I’m owed, and if it’s not paid, well, things could get ugly. I have no quarrel with you or your dad. Honestly, I couldn’t care less about either of you.

“You’re better off without me in your lives, so once I get what I want, you’ll never see me again.”

“You have no regrets.” I realized she was too far gone to feel any remorse.

A person who could take a life and feel proud of it was not someone capable of regret.

The beautiful soul I thought my mother once had was gone. As I said before, she wasn’t my mother.

She couldn’t be.

My mother died fourteen years ago.

She died the minute she left us.

“What would I regret? You had a good childhood, didn’t you?” She arched her eyebrows from where she stood. “Didn’t your dad take good care of you? I always knew he would.”

I stared at her, dazed, hurt, and shattered, a whirlwind of fear, hate, and anger consuming me.

“You know, when I imagined this moment, standing in front of you, talking to you…that’s what I always wanted, to see you one more time and talk to you.

“I fucking wish I hadn’t wasted time on someone like you.” Eventually, I would have to accept the harsh reality that I would never have a mother.

A mother who would love me.

A mother who I thought would embrace me and ask for my forgiveness.

That was never going to happen, and it took my breath away.

Ginny shrugged. “Not everyone has a mother.”

***

Somehow, I made it home and collapsed at the door of the apartment.

I sat there in silence for what felt like forever. My mind was spinning, and I felt lightheaded.

The floor was cold against my skin, and I knew I should get up, open the door, and go inside so no one would find me here.

But I couldn’t.

I was paralyzed with shock, my mind and heart weighed down.

How do you even begin to process? How do you accept that you’ll never have your mother’s love again?

What do you do with that?

How do you pick yourself up when you've been knocked down from every direction?

For fourteen years, I'd held a grudge against my mother. I was raised with this bitterness in my heart, but I knew I didn't despise her entirely.

I'd rejected it, held my ground, and tried to erase her from my memories.

I was furious that she could abandon her ten-year-old daughter and never glance back, but beneath all that hate and anger, it was love that had fueled it.

Even when I despised her, I still loved her.

But now, when I was struck with the truth that I meant nothing to her, that I'd spent years being angry and hurting for nothing.

I finally confronted her after fourteen years, only to discover that she'd never loved me.

She'd never missed me, or ever felt the urge to return.

After fourteen years, I finally saw the real her; everything else had been a figment of my imagination. The selfish woman turned killer, all for the sake of money—luxuries she craved.

She shattered a family.

Robbed a father of his children.

Money.

Money.

Money.

That was what everyone valued.

I didn't realize I was crying until warm arms enveloped me and pulled me into their chest. I broke down, and all my emotions poured out.

I struggled against the person as they held me while I wept.

“She never loved us,” I managed to say as I was held tightly.

I was frantic, scratching at the arms and trying desperately to escape. “She abandoned me for money. What am I supposed to do now?” I was gasping for air and choking on my sobs.

“I need her. I need my mom. Oh, God…” A wave of pain swept over me. Everything hurt. I tried to wipe my eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop.

“I don’t have a mom,” I choked out. “I lost my mom. Please, make the pain stop. It hurts so much, I can’t breathe. I can’t…I can’t…”

I was shaking my head uncontrollably and thrashing against the body, trying to reach the window for some fresh air, but I was held back against the body that now lifted me into their arms.

A hand dug through my bag and pulled out a key, unlocking the door before it was swung open, and I was carried inside.

I was still crying, oblivious to my surroundings and consumed by a pain so intense I thought it would split my heart in two.

I was placed on the couch before someone knelt in front of me; warm, strong hands brushed my hair out of my face and wiped the tears from my eyes.

When I blinked, my vision wasn't so blurry anymore.

When I blinked, I could see who was kneeling in front of me.

Silver eyes.

So intense.

Tight jaw.

Hard face.

Mason.