Chapter 15 The Whitlock Residence
Sawyer turned to Ellie at once, his eyes darkening. "Are you and this bastard really together? In a fucking relationship?" he growled.
Ellie saw the look on his face—the sharp edge of his fury, the unspoken threat beneath his words. If she provoked him now, it would only make things worse for Jeremy. So she swallowed her pride and shook her head. "No, we aren’t."
Sawyer shot a smug glance at Jeremy before grabbing Ellie’s wrist and yanking her out of the room. He stormed down the hall, up the elevator, pulling her into his office without a word. Once the door slammed shut behind them, he turned to her, eyes burning with rage.
"If I see you within a damn inch of that asshole again, I’ll make sure he never sees the sun in this country ever again, Ellie Madden!" Sawyer’s voice was a low, menacing growl. "You’re so damn brave, huh? Bringing your fucking side piece into my company? Seducing him right in front of me?"
Ellie’s frustration had already been at its limit after the morning’s incident with Olivia. And now this? She spun around to face him, her voice biting with suppressed rage.
"I don’t get it!" she shot back. "Why the hell are you acting like you care who I’m with, Mr. Stark?" she breathed, her eyes flashing with anger, "You clearly love Olivia. You love her so much you can’t even tolerate the thought that I might be bothered by her presence in a room, so you threw me out of a job without a second thought. You have your real love now. Why the hell are you still bothering with my life? Be with your lover and let me be with mine."
Before Ellie could take another breath, Sawyer moved with a force that stole her air. One hand twisted her wrist behind her back, locking her in place, while the other gripped the back of her head, pulling her forward, his body pressing into hers. His lips slammed into hers—urgent, possessive, and full of a hunger.
She fought against him, trying to push him away, but his hold was unrelenting, his kiss deep and consuming. His tongue tangled with hers, coaxing her to respond, to give in, even as every part of her screamed to break free. The heat between them rose like wildfire, the pressure building as the kiss became more frantic, more desperate.
It wasn’t until Ellie, overwhelmed by the intensity, bit his lip—hard—that he pulled back with a sharp wince, his mouth tinged with the taste of blood.
But even then, breathing heavily, he refused to let her go. His grip on her wrist and head stayed firm as he growled, "I am your boyfriend!" he growled, his hands gripping her tighter, pulling her even closer. “I told you, didn’t I? We have a fucking deal. You are not allowed to have any other man besides me, Ellie. You belong to me! Only me. No one else!"
Ellie’s eyes burned with fury. "I won’t," she snapped. "Why should I? You have multiple women outside. Did you ever see me stop you? You always said I’m Olivia’s replacement, so I shouldn’t bother taking this relationship seriously and bother you. So, here it is! I’m not bothering."
Sawyer’s face twisted with frustration, and without warning, he pulled out a card, shoving it in her face. "I’ll pay you a hundred thousand dollars. You won’t be with any other man as long as you’re mine. You won’t even look at another man. Not him. Not anyone."
Ellie didn’t even hesitate. She slapped the card aside, letting it fall to the ground. Her fury boiled over.
"I don’t want it!" she spat, "I'm going to do whatever I want, and you can’t control me like your pet, Sawyer Stark!"
Sawyer’s eyes turned to stone as he grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her close. She fought against him, struggling to break free, but he held her tightly, caging her in. His voice was a razor-sharp snarl.
"Ellie Madden, do you want me to lock you up in a room? Is that bastard so important to you that you’re actually fighting me over him? You never even raised your voice at me before, and now you’re standing here arguing with me because of that bastard?"
Ellie clenched her jaw and turned away, refusing to look at him.
"Look at me," Sawyer demanded, his hand gripping her chin roughly and forcing her to face him. "You better stay the fuck away from him. Do you think all these models are innocent and kind? They’re manipulative, Ellie. They take advantage of people, and that fucking bastard of yours is no different. So before I lose my goddamn mind, you’re going to stay the fuck away from him."
Ellie let out a humorless laugh. "You can keep talking, and I can keep pretending to listen while I slowly get bored," she said, rolling her eyes. "He’s nice to me, and that’s all that matters. What I do outside of our arrangement is none of your business because we aren’t real. This is all fake."
Sawyer’s fury flared with every word she spoke, but before she could finish, his mouth crashed onto hers again—this time with a savage intensity. His kiss was forceful, dominating, leaving no room for resistance. Tongue licking her lips, sliding in her mouth and fighting to suck on hers. Ellie struggled beneath him, her hands pushing against his chest, but his grip only tightened, holding her firmly in place.
His lips were demanding, bruising, as he sought to claim her completely. When Ellie, desperate and angry, bit his lip once more, he retaliated instantly. With a growl, he bit down on hers—hard—drawing blood, the sharp sting mixing with the feverish heat between them. She gasped, the metallic taste of blood mingling with the raw intensity of the kiss.
"Asshole!" she hissed, wincing as she shoved him off with all her strength, finally breaking free.
Sawyer wiped the blood from his lips, his eyes dark and dangerous. "What the fuck is going on with you?" His voice was sharp, laced with uncontained fury. "Are you really this desperate to find yourself a man before our agreement even ends? You can’t even wait a few goddamn weeks? Are you already looking for the next man to crawl into your bed?"
"Yes! Obviously!" Ellie snapped, her voice filled with anger. "What do you think? Of course, I’m finding a man for myself. You already have Olivia, don’t you? So what’s wrong with me getting someone to date for myself? What’s the difference? You can date your girl, and I’ll date my man."
"Ellie Madden—" he growled, his fury reaching its peak.
But before he could say another word, the office door swung open.
Olivia stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable.
The heavy silence in the room was suffocating. The tension between Ellie and Sawyer was so thick, it was impossible to miss. And Olivia? She had caught just enough of the conversation to know exactly what was happening.
And her heart jumped in happiness.
"I just accidentally heard that Ellie already has a man? That’s great." She sauntered up beside Sawyer and slid her arm through his, grinning. "Let her be, Sawyer. She’s going to be kicked out soon anyway—she needs to find a new home. And you already have me now, so why would you care about my replacement?"
Sawyer yanked his arm out of Olivia’s grasp, his face twisting into a furious glare. But Olivia wasn’t done. She turned to Ellie with a condescending smirk.
"Why don’t you just go away? Leave now. Why are you still clinging to Sawyer? Even showing up at his office? Isn’t this a bit outrageous? This is called stalking."
Ellie exhaled sharply, her patience wearing dangerously thin. "For fuck’s sake, Olivia." Her voice was low with barely-contained rage. "I have no desire to stick to another woman’s man. If Mr. Stark approves, I’ll break up with him right now and leave. I wouldn’t be standing here watching your pathetic act!"
Sawyer’s fury ignited further. His fists clenched as he stepped closer to Ellie. "You’re fighting with me over a man you met a damn week ago?" He gritted out. "Just one one goddamn week, and you're already acting like this? Is he that fucking great?"
"Yes, he is!" Ellie shot back, unflinching. "He’s kind. He’s patient. And he doesn’t treat me like trash. He doesn’t treat me like I’m some disposable replacement or something he can buy with his money like an object. So yes, Mr. Stark—Jeremy is fucking great!"
Sawyer’s face darkened in a way it never had before. Not even when he lost billion-dollar deals. Not even when the world collapsed around him.
This? This was different.
The anger inside him boiled over, laced with something even deadlier—jealousy.
Marching forward, he got in her face, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you even know what kind of life models live, Ellie?" His tone was sharp, biting. "You’ve only seen the bright, pretty side. How do you know he doesn’t have an ulterior motive? How do you know he’s not just using you?"
Ellie scoffed, folding her arms. "What ulterior motive? Sleeping together? That’s the big scary motive you’re warning me about?" She tilted her head, her tone mocking. "So what? I’ll sleep with him. It’s not like I’m repulsed by the idea."
Sawyer’s entire body tensed, his fury snapping like a live wire.
"Henry!" he suddenly roared, his voice so thunderous that the entire office seemed to shake.
Outside, Henry jumped so hard he nearly dropped his phone. His heart pounded as he rushed inside, terrified of whatever disaster was unfolding. The moment he stepped into the office, he saw Olivia’s smug expression, Ellie’s burning rage, and Sawyer’s lethal fury.
This was bad. Really, really bad.
"Y-Yes, Mr. Stark?" Henry asked, keeping his voice calm and professional despite his racing pulse.
"Ban her cards." Sawyer’s voice was eerily calm, but his eyes never left Ellie. "Cancel everything—every fucking financial support I’ve given her. I am not financing some roadside bastard model’s lifestyle with my money."
Ellie’s mouth fell open. A laugh of disbelief escaped her before she scoffed and rolled her eyes. The fury inside her burned so fiercely it felt like it would consume her whole.
"Keep your damn money! I don’t need a single cent from you, Sawyer Stark!" she spat. "Do you really think I can’t survive without you? You can keep your money and shove it. Good luck!"
With that, she spun on her heels and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
Later, as Henry gathered all of Ellie’s canceled cards and looked at Sawyer’s darkened, tensed expression, he hesitantly suggested, "Sir, perhaps you could talk to Miss Ellie calmly. Explain why you don’t want her near Mr. Nox."
Sawyer snapped his glare toward him. "What explanation?" he barked. "Why the fuck do I need a reason to keep that bastard away from my girlfriend? Isn’t it obvious?"
"So, the argument with Miss Ellie earlier—was it because you were jealous of her being with someone else?"
Sawyer’s eyes flashed dangerously. "Do I look jealous?" he snarled.
Henry wisely shut his mouth.
"Get the hell out."
And Henry, grateful for the dismissal, all but sprinted out of the office.
***
That evening, Sawyer walked into the house with tense, quick strides. As usual, he expected Ellie to be there, greeting him, running up to hug him like always.
But she didn’t.
Instead, it was Ada, the housekeeper, who approached, reaching for his coat and the bags in his hands.
"Sir, should I take these to the room?" she asked.
Sawyer shook his head, gripping the Chanel and jewelry bags tighter before striding toward the bedroom himself.
It was empty.
"Ellie?" he called out, placing the bags on the bed before walking toward the bathroom. "Ellie?"
No answer.
His irritation spiked. Marching out of the room, he barked, "Ada!"
Ada rushed over immediately. "Yes, Mr. Stark?"
"Where the hell is Ellie?"
Ada hesitated before shrugging. "I’m not sure, sir. She left this morning for work but never came back."
Sawyer’s expression darkened. "For fuck’s sake," he muttered under his breath. "Why the hell does she have this bad habit of running away every time she’s pissed?"
Ada let out a tiny chuckle that she quickly smothered before hurrying back to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, miles away, Ellie stood in front of a grand house and rang the doorbell.
The nameplate on the gate read: Whitlock Residence.
A few minutes later, a maid appeared at the door and opened it. Ellie, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a cap to conceal her face, stood with a large painting that covered half of her body.
"Hello," she said sweetly, her voice soft and innocently meek. "This is a delivery for Miss Olivia, from Mr. Sawyer Stark."
The maid glanced at the painting and nodded. "Okay, give it to me."
Ellie tightened her grip on the frame, her voice firm but laced with concern. "No, it's a delicate and expensive piece. I can't risk making Mr. Stark angry if anything happens to it. It has to be hung very carefully and in the right spot."
She peeked out from behind the painting, her expression meek and pleading. "Sister, we're both just workers, right? How about you let me place it properly? It needs to be hung on the wall soon to maintain its color."
The maid hesitated, conflicted, but eventually gave in with a nod. "Alright, come in."
Ellie followed her inside, glancing around as they passed through the hall. Even though this was her first time inside Olivia’s house, something felt... off. The entire place seemed familiar, as if she had been here before. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it felt like she knew every corner of the house by heart.
The maid pointed toward a door. "That’s Miss Olivia’s bedroom. You can hang the painting there."
"Sure." Ellie gave a bright smile, nodding as she hurried into the room.
As soon as the door shut behind her, she placed the painting on the ground, her fingers swiftly tearing off the paper. The so-called ‘expensive’ painting was nothing more than a cheap $10 piece she had picked up off the sidewalk just to create an excuse to enter the Whitlock house.
She had waited patiently, watching Olivia drive away before making her move. And what better way to slip past suspicion than to use the very name Olivia worshipped? Sawyer Stark.
Ellie glanced around the bedroom, moving from one spot to another, peering into drawers and scanning the room for anything interesting. The house was grand, but nothing seemed out of place. Everything was exactly as it should be.
Yet, something felt... off.
The rest of the house was filled with pictures—family portraits, framed memories—but Olivia’s bedroom was eerily bare. No childhood photos, no graduation pictures, no smiling faces from the past. The room was a blank white canvas, like someone had splattered paint across it without any real shape or form.
It was unsettling.
"I'm so tired," a voice suddenly complained from outside.
Ellie’s heart leaped into her throat. She quickly slipped behind the door just as two maids passed by, speaking in hushed voices.
“I don’t understand what’s wrong with Ms. Olivia,” one of them said, her voice laced with sadness. “I miss the old her. She was sweet, kind—she never spoke harshly to anyone. But now, she’s changed so much that we can’t even breathe around her.”
The other maid, older and wearier, sighed. "Yesterday, she hit Sara just because the water was a little too hot. Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock were furious. They scolded her so badly."
"They've never treated us badly," the first maid said, shaking her head. "And Olivia, three years ago, was raised just like them—kind, respectful. But ever since the fire... everything changed."
"Yeah. Even when she’s here, it doesn’t feel like it’s really Miss Olivia. It’s so weird."
Their voices faded as they disappeared down the corridor.
Ellie exhaled softly, emerging from her hiding place and slipping out of the room. She cautiously made her way toward the main hall. Seeing no one around, she quickly looked through the house, studying the decorations and the framed pictures scattered across the side tables.
A large framed picture caught her attention.
It was of a sophisticated couple. The man had white hair and wore simple clothes, while the woman was dressed in expensive designer wear, adorned with high-fashion jewelry. Despite their differences in style, they looked good together.
Ellie scoffed under her breath. "Can’t believe Olivia came from them. They actually look nice."
But before she could turn away, a sudden, sharp pain stabbed through her head.
Her vision blurred. Her eyes burned with tears.
Why...?
A strange, painful throbbing took over her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her heart pounded erratically as an inexplicable sorrow filled her.
Shaking off the feeling, she turned away, but the sense of familiarity only deepened. It was as if she had been here before—like these walls, these faces, were embedded somewhere deep inside her.
Her phone suddenly rang, the loud sound making her jump.
Shit, shit, shit.
Panicking, she cut the call immediately and turned on her heel, dashing out of the hall. She had to leave. Now.
But just as she was about to reach the exit, she collided straight into someone.
The woman gasped, grabbing Ellie’s arm in a tight grip.
"Olivia?!"