30. Wendy
When I woke up, the world was spinning. My body felt heavy and uncooperative as I tried to push myself up. My vision was blurry, but slowly began to refocus. And then it hit me: I was sitting up with my wrists bound behind me to a wood-rickety chair. I squinted into the dimmed hanging light, swinging a few feet above my head. The room was bare, except for a singular table, holding items I couldn't quite make out from where I was bound. I noticed what resembled a wooden door across from me. It was old and worn, much like the chair confining me. The room was eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of the structure settling or the distant murmur of traffic filtering in through what must have been a small window somewhere behind me.
And then the snoring pierced the quiet. I gasped and whipped my head to the right where the sound originated and nearly toppled over when I saw Vincent passed out, tied to a similar chair, his head tilted back and mouth agape with light snores escaping. I almost smirked when I spotted his casual black suit. So typical of Vincent. Always dressed for the occasion.
I glanced over at Vincent, trying to make sense of the situation. His hair was a mess, a shadow of stubble covered his jawline, and he bore a nasty bruise on his forehead. Questions raced through my mind, each one more baffling than the last.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, casting a shaft of light onto the cold floor. I squinted against the glare and saw Stephen’s silhouette filling the doorway. He stood there momentarily, allowing us to make out his figure, then stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“It's good to see you awake,” Stephen said with a voice that chilled me to the bone. His tone wasn’t threatening, his words neither cruel nor kind. It was the indifference that struck fear deep into my heart.
“What do you want?” I forced out, trying to keep my voice steady.
Stephen ignored my question. “Sleep well?” he asked Vincent, who was slowly waking up, disoriented.
Vincent glanced at me before turning to Stephen, surprise flashing in his eyes briefly before being replaced by a hardened determination. “Let her go,” he demanded, his voice gravelly and pained.
Stephen chuckled dryly as he pulled a chair from under the table and sat across from us. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why would I do that? Why would I give you something you wanted? That would be way too nice of me. Plus, both of you owe me.”
“We don't owe you anything,” I snapped.
A dangerous smile crept onto Stephen's face, making my skin crawl. “Oh, Wendy, you couldn't be more wrong.”
I wished I could lunge at him, but I simply sat there immobilized. My gaze flickered back to Vincent, who had now fully awakened. He looked at me, concern etching onto his features as he surveyed my condition. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t see the businessman Vincent was, but rather the man I fell in love with years ago.
Vincent’s eyes turned cold, and he shot Stephen a threatening glare. “If you hurt her, I swear to God?—"
“You'll what?” interrupted Stephen. “You're not exactly in a position to make threats, are you?” A malicious grin spread across Stephen’s face as he stood and stalked toward us.
As he approached, I braced myself for whatever might come next. My heartbeat drummed in my ears; it was deafening and persistent, like a hammer slamming down on a nail. But then, just as quickly as the fear had surged within me, it began to subside. I took a deep breath and locked my gaze with Vincent’s. He gave me a subtle nod, an assurance that we would get through this together. That was when I realized that maybe things weren't as hopeless as they seemed. Maybe we did stand a chance.
Stephen stopped inches from our tied bodies, standing dead center, his eyes darting back and forth between us.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Vincent snarled.
“I’m just trying to figure out which one of you I should kill first.” Stephen rocked on his heels, casual as ever, sending a quick chill down my spine. And I believed every word. I believed this was the end and wasn’t okay with it.
“You’re not killing anyone. And I swear, if you hurt Wendy, you’re a dead man,” Vincent warned, tugging against his restraints.
Stephen stared at Vincent before bursting out laughing and slapping his thighs like a madman.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my eyes begging Stephen to crossover to the humane way of handling an issue and not murder.
“Just let Wendy go, and you can do whatever the fuck you want with me,” Vincent spat, thrashing against the ropes holding him down.
“First, allow me to introduce myself.” Stephen pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m Stephen Cartwright, a pleasure to meet you both,” he said with a mock bow, his sardonic grin never faltering. His eyes glowed with sadistic delight, making my stomach churn violently.
Vincent’s eyes blazed with fury, the muscles in his jaw working overtime as he gritted his teeth. “I don’t give a fuck who you are!” he growled. “Let Wendy go now!”
Stephen chuckled, his laugh hollow and echoing in the cold room. “Now, why would I do that?” Stephen winked. “After all, it's not every day I have two star-crossed lovers indebted to me.”
“Indebted?” I echoed, my voice thin.
Stephen nodded. “Yes, indebted.” Then he walked to a small wooden table in the corner of the room and picked up two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
“Would either of you care for a drink? Wendy, how about you? For old-time’s sake. Have a drink with me.” Stephen tipped the glass to me.
“No, thank you.” I averted my gaze from crazy Stephen, someone who I thought was my friend when I awoke this morning, never imagining he was the enemy.
“Why?” Stephen poured two glasses.
“I’m not in the mood,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t believe you.” A smirk spread across Stephen’s face as he sauntered, holding out a half-filled tumbler, the amber liquid sloshing against the glass. “What’s the real reason? Don’t start to spew lies during your last moments. We should be honest here. Everyone should. Even me.” Stephen’s eyes shifted from me to Vincent. “So? Why won’t you have a drink?”
“I’m pregnant.”
The room fell silent as if the air had been vacuumed out in one swift movement. Stephen's smile froze in place, the glass of whiskey dangling from his grip. I caught the shock ripple over his face before he turned it into a mask of nonchalance.
“Oh,” Stephen murmured. His gaze, still cool and calculating, flicked over to Vincent. “Well. Congratulations. Shitty timing, but still, congrats.” Stephen slammed back his drink before shattering the empty glass onto the floor.
Vincent's face remained stone-cold as he looked to me for answers, but now wasn’t the time to explain anything to him. The news did not bring him joy or surprise; instead, his eyes brimmed with a newfound determination and defiance.
“You won't lay a finger on her,” Vincent warned, his tone dripping with ice. “If you so much as harm a hair on her head...” His voice trailed off into a low growl, his tone leaving no room for interpretations about the consequences.
“Vincent, just stop,” I warned and then swallowed. “Stephen,” I forced his name through my lips. “Can you please tell us why you’re doing this?”
Stephen grinned, eyes flicking back and forth between Vincent and me. “Oh, Wendy. I thought you, of all people, would understand. It’s about settling past debts,” he drawled, pacing the room like a predator circling its prey.
“What debts?” Vincent snarled, his steel-blue eyes never leaving Stephen.
Stephen stopped pacing and turned toward Vincent, tilting his head and studying him. “Emotional debt. A debt that can never be repaid. One that you suffer and carry with you for life.”
“What is he talking about, Vincent?” My voice cracked as my heart dropped into my stomach. We were really in trouble.
“I have no clue.” Vincent’s eyes shot in my direction, begging me to believe him, and I did.
“Of course you wouldn't,” Stephen sneered at Vincent. “You don’t care about people. You definitely don’t care about Wendy.” Stephen pointed straight at my forehead. “You thought Lawrence was the one going after you. It was always me. You ruined us.”
Vincent squinted, trying to understand, but I knew the puzzled look blanketing his face. Once again, he was lost. I wouldn’t dare say a thing. For now, it was best to listen as my heart rate exploded in my chest, threatening to shatter my bones.
“Lawrence, his wife Cindy, and I were together,” Stephen admitted as pools of sadness flooded his eyes. “We had a great life until you and Zachary fucked everything up. But I don’t blame Zachary for what happened to us.” Stephen stepped forward, the overhead lights casting sharp shadows across his face. “I blame you. You broke us. You had to take everything from Lawrence, but that wasn’t enough. Cindy was already pissed at Lawrence for losing the business. Most of our money. Everything. You just had to take everything.”
“Look, just tell me what you want?” Vincent’s voice crossed a desperate line as his hands flexed and sweat beaded his forehead.
“You had to fuck Cindy. You just had to do that. Why? I thought you were all about the money. Going in for that kind of kill. Why did you have to go after Cindy?” Stephen’s voice cracked, emotion running thick. “And be honest, for once in your fucking life, you snake.”
Vincent was silent. His eyes darkened as the room grew colder. I could tell he was going through every memory and encounter, trying to find the hidden truth in Stephen's words. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence had never been heavier.
“I slept with her to spite Lawrence. He was so slow in paying his debt. Drove us crazy. Drove me crazy. I was reckless and heartless back then...I didn’t know the damage I caused, and I’m sorry.” A simple confession hung in the air like a bad odor.
“Well, after you fucked her, Cindy changed.” Stephen threw his arms in the air. “She came home to us that night, and we knew something was off. We thought it was about Lawrence losing the business and how she wouldn’t look at him. But she wouldn’t look at me either, and I hadn’t done what he did.” Stephen looked down, running a hand through his messed hair. A ragged sigh echoed through the deadly silent room. “She wouldn't look at either of us. She was there physically, but her mind and heart had withdrawn into an unreachable shell. It was as if she was haunted by a ghost.”
“Stephen, I had no idea I caused all of this. I am so sorry.” Vincent’s voice held a hint of disbelief but was laced with profound remorse. His hands fisted at his sides, and he leaned forward slightly, almost begging Stephen to see the truth.
“I don’t just blame you—I hold you responsible.” Stephen's words were cold, but his eyes burned with an intensity that made me shiver. “She left us after a few weeks, said she needed some ‘space.’ But we knew better—she never returned. Whatever you did to her. Showed her.” Stephen grimaced. “You made her think we weren’t good enough.”
Vincent’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he sighed heavily. “I didn’t know...” he started, but Stephen cut him off.
“Of course, you wouldn't know,” Stephen spat contemptuously. “You were happy when you'd crushed Lawrence's life. You didn’t spare a second's thought for Cindy or me. And once she was gone, I tried to prove to Lawrence that we were enough. He and I could survive this and continue as a couple together. But Cindy was his wife first. She came before me.” Stephen shrugged weakly. “And in the end, I wasn’t enough. Lawrence chose to leave. And then I was alone. Shit, he even threw me out.” Stephen kicked the leg of Vincent’s feeble chair, causing us to jolt. “Oh, and thanks for taking care of Lawrence for me before I had to.”
A heavy silence filled the room as we each processed Stephen’s words. His face was a canvas of anger and pain as he peered at Vincent with absolute loathing.
“Stephen,” I began. “Let’s just calm down and think things through. It doesn’t have to end this way.” I blinked back thick tears as I thought about everything I’d miss out on if Stephen’s plan succeeded.
Stephen locked eyes with me, and for a second, I thought I caught a glimmer of hope flickering in his deadened eyes. “Sorry, Wendy. Not tonight.” And then he turned back to Vincent. “You’ve taken everything from me,” Stephen continued, each word seething with raw emotion. “You’ve decimated my life, piece by piece, until there was nothing left for me to hold on to.”
“Stephen...” Vincent began haltingly, “I didn't mean to cause...”
But Stephen wasn't done. He roared out his pain, cutting off Vincent's attempt to explain himself. “And now that I have nothing left to lose.” Stephen paused. “I’ll make sure you pay every bit of the debt you owe me.”
The room fell silent once again, a silence so deafening it was almost tangible. I watched Stephen’s gaze turn to me, his eyes softening slightly. “Do you still love him, Wendy?”
A single tear traced a jagged path down my cheek, but I cleared my throat, meeting Stephen's gaze head-on. “Yes,” I said firmly. “Despite everything, I still do. And I always will.”
Stephen nodded as if he had expected the response. He took a deep breath and looked at Vincent one last time. “The debt starts with you losing something you love,” he said, pointing a finger at me.
My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that it was all I heard over the blood rushing in my ears. As Stephen left the room, I turned to Vincent, our eyes locking in a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding amidst the chaos we found ourselves trapped in.
“Wendy,” Vince whispered. “I’m going to get us out of here. Don’t worry. If it’s the last thing I do.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the plan, Vin?” And then my breath hitched when a single tear ran down Vincent’s face.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Something that seemed to be a common theme since we woke up. As much as we hated to admit, I was right. We were doomed. “How long have you known about the baby?”
“Just earlier today.” My eyes dropped to the floor as another tear spilled from the corner of my eye, slinking down my nose. “Since these are probably our last minutes, I’ll be honest and say I was going to call you about the news today or tomorrow.”
“Wendy, I am so sorry for leaving. Letting you leave. You were right all along. I should have gone with you. I should have listened to you. You were always right and always deserved better than me. I don’t even know what else I can say to you to prove my trust anymore. I’ve messed up so many times. I don’t deserve you.” Vincent shook his head. “I never did. But please, Wendy. Give me one last chance. My heart meant well, but my mind wasn’t there. And it hurt you. I know I hurt you. But now, all I want to do is make us better. Make you better. I know I can do it, too. Just give me one last chance, my love.”
“That’s a pretty hard request from a soon-to-be-dead man,” Stephen chimed in.
Vincent glared at Stephen but averted his eyes back to me. “I promise, when we leave here tonight alive, you’ll see that I’ll never go anywhere again. I’ll be the best father to our child. And whatever you want me to be to you, that’s what I’ll be. I’ll accept your choice but never stop loving you. Whether we’re together or apart, you are my world and always will be, Wendy. My intentions were always built around the idea to protect you. If you go on forever hating my actions, just know, Wendy, that my intentions for you were true.”
The tears flowed down my face, and I didn’t try to hide them. How could I even with my hands tied behind my fucking back? “Vincent, just stop. I don’t want to hear it.”
“But you have to hear it.” Vincent’s chest heaved. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do, I know. I just wish you weren’t so fucked up.” I shook my head. “I will say this. If, by some miracle, we make it out here tonight, I’m going back to New York and will raise the baby there. It was a mistake to run from my life. I miss my old life. Newport is nice, and it’s been good to me. But it was never my true home.”
“Can I come with you?” Vincent tried to reach for me, but it was a fruitless attempt.
“You can go wherever you want. But whatever I decide, you have to respect it.”
“I already said I would respect any decision you make.”
“Yes, but will you actually listen to it?” I hissed.
“I know anything I say right now sounds like bullshit, but I will do anything for you. Believe it or not, in my mind, I thought I was doing right by you all this time. Trying to keep you safe. And now look at us.” Vincent laughed weakly. “If I had only known how this would have ended, I never would have strayed. I would have soaked up every second with you because every time I turned and saw your face, it reminded me of how good I had it. How lucky I was. I even feel lucky now just to be with you again. Does that sound crazy, Wen?”
“No,” I whispered. “I feel it, too.”
“Then trust me, Wendy. Trust me one more time.” Vincent's blue eyes begged me to believe him.
I looked at him, the man I loved and who tore my heart apart, trapped in this danger because of his past mistakes. “It’s just…” I began until the creek of the door interrupted us, and Stephen reappeared.
Except he wasn’t alone.
Behind Stephen trailed figures who made my stomach flip and my heart lurch. How much more betrayal could my brain process? But a huge part of me wanted to watch Vincent’s face register the scene before us.
“Hey, lovebirds,” said Stephen, stopping dead center in the room with Zachary to his right and Cyrus stationed to his left but slightly behind him. “I think the two of you know our special guests?” Stephen motioned to the men. “As a matter of fact, today wouldn’t have happened without everyone’s dear and loyal friend Zachary over here. Isn’t that right, Zach?”
Zachary's eyes flickered to mine and then to Vincent, his lips curled in an unapologetic grin. He looked like the devil standing a few feet from us, clad in an all-black suit and blinding white shirt. “That's right, Stephen.”