Not Your Scapegoat Again

Simon went, "You know how she is—pregnant, all over the place emotionally..."

I didn't say a word, just walked straight to the bedroom.

The second I opened the door—bam. That same sickly perfume hit me.

On the bed? Lingerie. Definitely not mine. And on the nightstand, a photo of Simon and Nancy all cuddled up.

I spun around, ice in my voice. "You two sleep in my bed?"

Simon freaked. "It's temporary! Once Nancy has the baby, I'll ask her to leave—"

"Don't bother." I shut him down. "I'm just here to grab my stuff."

I marched to the closet—packed with Nancy's designer junk.

My stuff? Shoved in a suitcase, dumped in the corner like trash.

"Heidi, don't be like this..." Simon reached for my hand. "I know this is hard, but—"

I jerked away.

Right as I bent to zip the suitcase, my phone lit up.

[Breaking! Wynn family heiress signs plea deal, admits to stealing Johnston Group trade secrets!]

Comments were already blowing up.

[Wait, the Wynn heiress really did that?]

[I thought she was covering for Nancy!]

[Lock her up!]

My stomach dropped. I looked at Simon, totally stunned.

I did what he wanted—signed the deal—and he still screwed me.

Simon saw the headline and flinched. "I... I was gonna keep it quiet, really. But Nancy—she's pregnant, and she was a suspect too. I didn't want her dragged into it..."

I was beyond let down, but I kept it chill. "It's fine."

Slipped my phone away, face blank. "The hearing's in three days anyway."

He let out a breath, all smiles again, and grabbed my hand. "I'm glad you get it. Don't worry, once you're in prison, I'll take care of your parents."

Gross.

I yanked my hand back and picked a different room to crash in for the night.

Once the house went quiet, I called a number I hadn't touched in years.

It rang once. I exhaled slowly. "Mr. Johnston, this is Heidi Wynn. I need to talk to you—in person."

I was up early the next morning, dressed and ready to head out.

Right as I hit the entryway, I ran into Simon.

He eyed me up, frowning. "Going somewhere this early?"

"Just running an errand."

I kept my head low, switching shoes, dodging his stare.

Then he grabbed the door handle, voice sharper. "It's not a good time for you to be out. You're on bail—what if someone sees you?"

I wasn't trying to start anything. "Move."

His face darkened. He snatched my wrist, squeezing hard.

"Heidi, don't forget your place."

I tried yanking free, but he yanked harder—dragged me upstairs like I weighed nothing.

His grip was brutal, digging into my skin.

"Guess I've been too easy on you..."

Then he clapped.

Two guys in black stepped out of nowhere.

"Tie her up. Lock her in the basement. She's not leaving till after the trial."

They grabbed me fast. I fought, but it didn't matter.

All I could do was shoot daggers at Simon.