17. Isabel #2
"Sorry, what are you really doing here?" Linda asked, her voice carrying a sharp, glacial edge that cut right through the woman’s soft whimpering. “Is it just to stir up more trouble for Owen again?”
Dr. Wineberg turned around toward Linda, tears vanishing in a single fraction of a second as a bright, artificial smile broke across her face.
"Dr. Heart," Dr. Wineberg gushed, stepping forward with an expression of feigned awe. "It is a true honor to see you again."
"Like Owen said, cut the nonsence Dr. Wineberg," Linda ordered, her tone remaining completely flat and cold as she ignored the flattery. "You could’ve called Owen or sent your attorney, yet you travelled all the way to Sweet Blossom Bay from South Carolina.” She folded her arms and stood her ground she was not about to get brow beaten by the academic bully.
"Did you just say you're still my wife?" Owen suddenly spoke, his shock wearing off.
"Yes, and I brought the divorce papers with me so we can finally settle the filings," Debbi confirmed, her fingers tapping against the documents in her hands as her eyes scanned Owen’s rigid face with a look of desperate hope. "Maybe the two of us could grab dinner tonight to go over the terms?"
Owen’s jaw clenched so hard the muscle in his cheek began to twitch violently.
"Why are we still married after all these years, Debbi?
" Owen snapped, his voice exploding through the quiet foyer and Linda could see he was so angry he could barely process what this witch was saying.
"All you had to do ten years ago was sign the finalized decree and get it filed, yet you couldn't even manage to execute a simple piece of paperwork correctly.
No wonder you always had to resort to stealing other people's work and taking credit for their glory.
You are incapable of doing anything right. "
Isabel and Linda were both taken aback by the raw, biting fury in Owen’s voice. Linda had never heard the mild-mannered café owner speak with such absolute venom before.
Before Dr. Wineberg could summon another round of on-demand tears, the tall man standing behind her stepped forward into the center of the rug, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
"Maybe this isn't such a good conversation to be having in a hotel foyer," the man suggested, turning his smooth smile directly toward Linda. "Ah, you're Ms. Heart?"
"Yes," Linda answered, her defensive walls immediately slamming into place as she looked at his tailored suit. "Who are you? Her attorney?"
"Oh, no," the man laughed, shaking his head with an easy, corporate charm that felt eerily familiar to her. "I'm Baxter Johnson from the Wayne Group."
A cold wave of ice hit Linda and she froze, the air leaving her lungs in a single, painful second. "Why are you here?"
"I'm here on behalf of the Wayne Group," Baxter explained, stepping closer to her desk line. "We've been trying to coordinate a formal meeting with you and your family—"
Before he could say another word, the loud, violent screech of tires echoed from the front driveway.
Linda’s heart jumped into her throat as a dark car swerved to a halt right in front of the main entrance.
The driver's door flew open, and her breath caught sharply when she saw Darius spring out of the front seat.
He didn't even bother to close the car door behind him, racing up the concrete steps and bursting through front doors with his face pale and his breathing ragged.
"Ah, look who just arrived, right in the nick of time," Baxter said, a wide, triumphant grin breaking across his face as he turned toward the entrance.
"I was just introducing myself to Ms. Heart.
" He turned back to Linda, gesturing proudly toward the man who had just entered the room.
"Ms. Heart this is my cousin, Darius Wayne. "
The foyer went completely, horribly silent.
Linda felt the blood drain entirely from her face, her eyes locking onto Darius’s profile as a cold, paralyzing weight settled into her chest. She stared at him, her gaze desperately searching his features for a single sign of denial, for some indication that this was a terrible mistake or a corporate trick.
But Darius didn't offer a defense. He simply stood there, his dark eyes filled with a raw, agonizing desperation that confirmed everything.
The image of the official buyout letters in her uncle’s study flashed vividly behind her eyes. Every single aggressive notice, every single notice to force them out, had been signed with that same bold, black ink stamp: D. Wayne.
D. Wayne. It had never been an initial for an anonymous corporate entity.
It was Darius. The kind, considerate man who had walked her along the shoreline, the man who had held her in his arms on the sand only three hours ago and promised her an open park for a picnic, was the corporate developer trying to destroy her life.
Her mind spun into absolute chaos, the walls of the lobby tilting violently as a wave of dizziness hit her square in the chest. Her legs felt completely weak, turning to paper beneath her trousers. She wobbled on the tile floor, her balance started to fail as she began to collapse backward.
Before she could hit the ground, Owen’s strong arm shot out, his hand catching her forearm to steady her against his side, keeping her upright.
"I think you should all leave," a deep, booming voice barked from the rear corridor.
Michael walked out of the conference room, his broad shoulders squared and his eyes blazing with a dangerous light as he stepped in front of his sister. He drew a hard line across the tile, his gaze locking dangerously with Darius. "Now."
"But we need to talk to—" Debbi began to whine, holding up her folder.
"Now," Michael commanded, his voice shaking the glass frames. "We have already advised the Wayne Group that we are delaying all meetings. If you're here to book into the hotel, we're full. Try Sanibel, or better yet, the next town away."
He stepped back, wrapping a warm, protective arm around his sister, pulling her back.
"Linda, I need to explain," Darius rushed forward, his hands extended as he tried to reach her through the space.
But Linda had no words left inside her. A sharp, physical pain sliced through her chest, a weight so heavy it felt exactly as though Darius had just jabbed a dagger straight through her ribs and twisted the blade in her heart.
She couldn't bear to look at his face for a single second longer.
As Michael guided her back toward the quiet safety of the rear office corridor, a single, devastating thought rang continuously through her mind.
It had all been a lie. The walks, the conversations, the closeness on the beach! None of it was real. It was all to get her family’s properties.
How will Linda react to this news? And what does this mean for the future of the hotel? Their story continues in Golden Days at Hearts Hotel!
Yes, I want to read the next book!