Mirabelle’s POV.
I stared at the phone in my hand, my heart hammering against my ribcage. The number on the screen wasn’t saved, but I recognized it; it was the private investigator I had hired after my conversation with Grandpa Ed.
For some weird reason, I was scared to pick up the call. It has been twenty-four hours since I got his number and explained the situation to him, and he told me that the next time he called me, he would have an answer. That time was now, and I was scared as fuck.
I really shouldn’t be scared because this information was important to me; it would help me know the people around me because I just had that feeling that somebody close to me was behind the whole rumor that had been going on about me.
The wine I took from earlier churned uncomfortably in my tummy.
I took a deep breath and answered.
Well, here goes nothing. I thought as I placed the phone to my ear.
“Hello.”
“Mrs Sylvester?” He asked in a deep baritone voice.
“Yes, you’re on to me,” I replied to him, trying as much as possible to hide the shakiness behind my voice.
“This is Morgan.” He clarified.
“Yes, I know. What do you have for me?” I asked him.
“So, after twenty-four hours of digging into where the source of the rumors are from, I finally got an answer. I’m sure you’re familiar with a lady named Natasha Clary?” He said, and I could hear the sound of my heart beating against my ribcage.
Fuck no.
There was a brief pause on the other line.
“Mrs Sylvester?” He called, and I cleared my throat.
“Yes, Morgan. I am familiar with her.” I told him.
“The rumors lead to her, though she tried as much as possible to make sure that nothing came back to her, she can’t hide from me. She met with a reporter who spread the rumor, bribed the reporter, and now he’s enjoying himself on a yacht in Dubai.” He said, and I almost laughed.
I didn’t know what was funny, but I was certain I wasn’t okay. The room tilted slightly; I pressed my hand to the chair’s armrest, steadying myself.
Honestly, as much as I was shocked to hear her name, I wasn’t surprised. I always knew she wanted something from Noah; maybe this was their plan. After all, I heard her voice on that call the other day.
She was the one planning my demise with my husband. I just knew that she was into Noah. I knew they dated each other in the past, and when we all had dinner together, I could see how she looked at Noah and flirted with him.
I complained to Noah, but he didn’t give her an audience. Then it looked like Natasha was embarrassing herself the way she did because Noah never paid any attention to her, but I guess people changed.
I just didn’t thi….
“Are you there, Mrs Sylvester?” Morgan’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“Yes, I am very much here,” I told him.
“Did she work alone?” I asked him.
“Yes, according to the information I have here, she worked alone.” He replied.
I frowned at that. I could bet my life that my husband was a part of this.
“Are you sure? There was no help from my husband?”
“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, and he sounded genuinely surprised and confused.
“Are you sure my husband isn’t part of this?” I asked him.
“Yes, ma’am. Do you need me to look into your husband?” He asked me.
I thought deeply about it; I wanted to know everything going on. Being in the dark wasn’t going to help me; there was one thing I was certain of, though: my husband was out to ruin me, and Natasha was a part of it.
“Yes, please. I need you to look into it, as well as Natasha. I need you to find anything that links them together.” I explained.
“Of course, Mrs Sylvester. I’ll do that and get back to you in the next twenty-four hours.” He said.
Was I ready to know the truth that came with being married to my husband? Was I ready to know if he was truly behind the disasters that had been befalling me for the last few weeks?
Even though deep down, I knew that Noah was involved in all this, the feelings I had for him were still as strong as ever. I would have been deceiving myself if I had said I had some stupid feelings for Ken now.
If I thought about all the things that he did to me, the way he treated me and went for my sister, it all made me disgusted that he kissed me in the first place.
Did I have Stockholm syndrome? Being obsessed with men that treat me like shit? Because God knew before I got over Ken with Noah’s took a while, and now Noah was doing the same thing to me, and I still loved him as fuck.
I hate my life.
“I’ll be expecting from you,” I told Morgan.
“Alright Mrs Sylvester. There seems to be more to all these than the ordinary eyes; everything is linked. Don’t do anything drastic yet; I’ll find everything you need in the next twenty-four hours and get back to you.” He said.
“Thank you, Morgan.”
“You’re welcome.” He said, and I hung up.
Oh my goodness, I really wanted to know the truth, but at the same time, I was scared to know what the truth entailed.
Oh lord, this news will break me, and I’m sure of it; please don’t let me break down after hearing it. I have kids that I still have to take care of, regardless of the outcome; please, lord, let me be strong through it.
I prayed silently.
Because God knows I am not ready to know the truth.