Chapter 7
I held the sewing box in my hands, the ornate wood cool and smooth beneath my fingertips.
The weight of it was familiar, almost comforting, as I made my way down the long hallway toward Colson’s office.
My pulse thrummed steadily, and I focused on keeping my breathing calm.
I had to be careful now, more careful than ever.
The wedding, the honeymoon—those were distractions, a carefully crafted facade. Now, with all the pomp and circumstance behind us, it was time to get back to what really mattered. The Shaw legacy. The truth. My vengeance.
When I reached Colson’s office, I paused, pressing my ear against the door.
Silence. I took a deep breath and slowly turned the knob, stepping inside with deliberate caution.
The room was as I’d last seen it: dark wood paneling, rich leather furniture, and that ever-present scent of polished wood and old money.
But there was something different this time. A prickling sensation at the back of my neck made the hair on my arms stand up. It felt like I was being watched.
As I entered the room, my gaze drifted to the closet. The box marked Shaw. The one
I’d seen before, the one that had held… all the secrets. Something Colson had taken great care to hide. But as I opened the closet door and peered inside, my heart sank. The box was gone. In fact, the entire space was devoid of anything.
I stared at the empty space where it had been, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.
He knew. He must have known I was in here before.
The possibility of cameras in the office now seemed like a certainty.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Colson wasn’t the type to overlook anything, especially not when it came to something as significant as the Shaw name.
I had to find another way to get what I needed.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped me out of my thoughts. I quickly dropped the sewing box and shut the closet door and turned, just as Vaughn stepped into the room. His eyes narrowed when he saw me, and a sneer twisted his lips.
“Josephine,” he drawled, his voice laced with bitterness. “What are you doing in here?”
I met his gaze, keeping my expression neutral despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Just returning something of Colson’s.”
His eyes flicked around the room then back to me, suspicion etched in every line of his face. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “It’s my husband’s office. I’m allowed to be here.”
Vaughn’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, invading my personal space. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? But I see right through you, Josephine. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong with him.”
I held my ground, refusing to back down even as his presence suffocated the room. “And who do I belong with? You’re the one who’s been trying to undermine him at every turn.”
His expression darkened, and for a moment, I saw a flash of something raw and dangerous in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I do,” I shot back, my voice low and steady. “You hate that I’m with him, that he chose me before you could have me. You can’t stand it, can you?”
His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a painful grip. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? But you’re just another one of his toys, something he’ll grow tired of and discard.”
The venom in his voice stung, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Maybe. But at least I’m not the son he can barely tolerate.”
Vaughn’s grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me. But then he released me abruptly, as if the very thought of touching me disgusted him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Josephine.”
“So are you. Don’t you have engagement arrangements to make with Serena.” I replied coolly, rubbing my wrist where his fingers had dug in.
He stared at me for a long moment, the tension between us thick and suffocating. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out of the office, leaving me alone with the oppressive silence and the cold realization that I was running out of time.
The box was gone. The cameras were watching.
And now, Vaughn was circling, more jealous and unstable than ever.
I would have to be smarter. More careful.
But I couldn’t let fear paralyze me. There was too much at stake, too much to lose if I failed.
As I stood there, surrounded by the trappings of Colson’s wealth and power, I vowed that I would find another way.
I had to.
Because if I didn’t, I knew I would never escape the grasp of the Ashworths. And neither would the Shaw name. I had to unravel the truth, and I had a feeling it would tear us all apart when it was revealed.
Life had a way of settling into a routine, even in a gilded cage like mine.
After that day in Colson’s office, the one where I’d discovered the empty space in the closet, nothing changed—at least on the surface.
Colson didn’t mention a thing, never questioned me about why I was there or what I might have been looking for. But I knew he knew.
In private, Colson was warm, attentive even.
His touches lingered longer than necessary, his kisses felt softer, and when we had sex, it was with a tenderness that almost made me believe he cared for me.
Almost. But in public, it was like a switch flipped.
The warmth evaporated, leaving behind the cold, calculating man who ruled the boardroom with an iron fist.
It was like living with two different people, and I was starting to hate both of them.
Today had been one of those days where the dichotomy of Colson Ashworth was on full display.
We had a meeting in the morning, a simple briefing on some equity reports that I’d been tasked with reviewing.
I’d spent hours combing through the figures, double-checking every line, making sure everything was perfect. Or so I thought.
“Josephine,” Colson’s voice cut through the room like a knife, drawing every eye to me. I looked up from my notes, meeting his cold gaze from across the table.
“Yes?”
“Would you care to explain why the figures in your report don’t add up?
” His tone was icy, every word dripping with disappointment.
I could feel the blood drain from my face as I scrambled to find the mistake, my fingers trembling as I flipped through the pages.
All eyes were on me including Vaughn’s and Simone’s.
Easton had recently joined the firm and looked at me with sympathy.
“I—I’m not sure,” I stammered, my heart racing. How had I missed something? I’d been so careful.
“Not sure?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Not sure is unacceptable. We don’t deal in uncertainty, Josephine. We deal in facts, in precision. I expect better from you.”
My cheeks burned with humiliation as the other staff members exchanged glances, some smug, others sympathetic. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never resurface. But I forced myself to keep my head up, to swallow the anger and embarrassment that clawed at my throat.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll fix it.”
“See that you do,” Colson snapped before turning his attention back to the meeting, effectively dismissing me. “Oh, and in the future, see that you double check your information before you hand it to me for presentation.”
I ground my teeth, clenching my fists in my lap. “Yes, sir.”
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, my mind too clouded with shame to focus on anything else.
As soon as it was over, I gathered my things and made a beeline for the door, ignoring the curious looks that followed me.
I couldn’t bear to be there any longer, couldn’t stomach the idea of facing Colson again after what he’d just done.
I summoned an Uber. The drive home was a haze of anger and frustration, my thoughts spiraling as I replayed the scene over and over in my head. How dare he humiliate me like that? How dare he undermine me in front of everyone?
When I got home, I didn’t go to the master suite, didn’t even consider it. Instead, I went straight to the bedroom I’d lived in before the wedding, the one that had once been my refuge in this suffocating mansion.
I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound of the lock clicking into place was oddly satisfying, like a barrier between me and the rest of the world. I dropped my bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow as tears of frustration and rage burned behind my eyes.
How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself believe, even for a moment, that things could be different? That Colson could be different? He was supposed to protect me, not humiliate me in front of others.
The truth was staring me in the face, clearer than ever.
Colson was a master of masks, slipping between warmth and cruelty with an ease that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.
In private, he played the role of the caring husband, but in public, he wouldn’t hesitate to tear me down if it served his purpose.
I wiped angrily at my tears, forcing myself to sit up. I couldn’t afford to be weak, couldn’t let him see how much his words had cut me. If I was going to survive this marriage, if I was going to find the truth and take back what was rightfully mine, I needed to be stronger than this.
But for now, all I could do was wait. Wait for the anger to subside, for the tears to stop. Wait for the moment when I could face him again without flinching, without letting him see just how deeply he’d wounded me.
The sun dipped below the horizon as I sat there in the darkening room, the only sound the distant ticking of the clock on the wall. Time passed, but the fury inside me didn’t fade. It only hardened into something colder, something more determined.