Chapter 7 I'll Never Forgive You

• "Charles' factory is doing perfectly fine. Why should he shut it down? Just go back and tell Marcus to give you the 1.5 million," my mom demanded, her tone filled with unwarranted certainty.
• I stood abruptly and replied, "I don't have that much money. Tell Charles he can either file for bankruptcy or go to jail—his choice."
• "Charlotte, how can you be so cruel? You're living in luxury as Marcus' wife, and yet you're just going to stand by while your own brother is hounded by debt collectors?" My mom's voice rose, fury etched in her every word as she stood to confront me.
• I looked at her, feeling a profound sadness mixed with a bitter emptiness tightening in my chest.
• I had come home hoping for some comfort, but all they cared about was money.
• They assumed that marrying Marcus gave me endless access to wealth, like an open vault.
• No one ever asked how I was doing in the Eckman Family. Every visit, and every conversation revolved around one thing—money. It was always about how much they could take from me.
• "If something happens to Charles, I won't go on living either," my mom wailed, collapsing onto the floor in a dramatic display of despair.
• I watched her, blinking away the sting in my eyes, the emotional weight pressing down harder than before. "When does he need the money?"
• "Tomorrow. Charles needs it by tomorrow," she quickly responded, standing up again, her hope reignited now that she sensed my surrender.
• "Fine. I'll... ask Marcus," I muttered, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.
• I glanced at her face, beaming with relief, and suddenly, I couldn't stand to stay there a second longer.
• After leaving, I wandered aimlessly down the street.
• The cold wind bit into my face, cutting through me like a sharp blade.
• I touched my chilled cheeks, tilting my head upward to watch the snowflakes drift silently from the sky. The ache inside me deepened, matching the wintry silence.
• Flagging down a cab, I directed the driver toward Taylor's villa.
• I knew Marcus had bought her a place in Cloudy Bay, where they had been living together.
• When I arrived and knocked on the door, Taylor answered. Marcus was nowhere in sight.
• "Mrs. Eckman, did you come to see me?" Taylor greeted me warmly, inviting me inside and even offering me a cup of coffee.
• Dressed in a soft cashmere sweater, she looked effortlessly elegant, her tall frame radiating calm confidence as she smiled at me.
• "Is Marcus not here?"
• "Oh, I suddenly had a craving for cherries and blueberries, so he went out to get them for me. Did you want to see him? I can call him if you'd like," Taylor said, gently rubbing her belly as she spoke.
• "No need. Since he's not here, I'll just go," I said, my voice faltering slightly. So, Marcus could be this considerate. But that side of him was something I had never experienced.
• I blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill, forcing myself to stay composed, unwilling to let Taylor see how broken I felt inside.
• Just as I turned to leave, I was jostled from behind, and before I knew it, I was tumbling to the ground, tangled with someone else.
• "Ah!" Taylor screamed, her voice filled with agony before I could react. She clutched her belly, her face twisted in pain.
• "Taylor, what's happening?" I panicked, scrambling to get off her.
• "My baby... my baby..." Taylor's face was ghostly pale, like the snow covering the ground outside.
• Horrified, I watched as blood began to pool beneath her. Frozen with fear, I stood paralyzed, not knowing what to do next.
• Has Taylor lost the baby? Did she really miscarry?
• My fingers shook as I reached for my phone, desperate to call the hospital, but before I could even dial, a tall figure rushed past me. The force of his push sent me crashing into the wall.
• The impact was vicious—pain shot through my body as my head and side slammed against the hard surface. A cry of pain slipped out before I could stop it.
• "Charlotte, are you out of your mind? How dare you harm my child?" Marcus' voice ripped through the air, a savage, blood-chilling snarl that made my skin crawl.
• I curled into myself, trembling as I looked up at Marcus. His eyes blazed with a furious, predatory intensity.
• "No, I didn't… I didn't do anything, Marcus, please… listen to me," I stammered, stumbling toward him, frantic to explain. I hadn't meant to fall, hadn't meant to knock into Taylor.
• But Marcus' face was cold, his expression locked in anger. He shoved my hands away as if my touch burned him. Then he bent down, scooping Taylor into his arms as she moaned in pain. His voice cut through me like ice. "Charlotte, if anything happens to Taylor, I swear I'll never forgive you."
• "Marcus, I didn't… I swear it wasn't on purpose…" My voice shook with fear as I babbled, desperate for him to hear me, to believe me.
• But he wasn't listening. He carried Taylor away without a backward glance, leaving me behind in a suffocating silence.
• The bloodstain near the door stood out, sharp and glaring against the floor, filling me with a sense of horror.
• I tried to pull myself up, but my legs buckled, sending me crashing to the ground again. My hands were scraped, my pants torn, and blood dripped from a cut on my forehead. Fighting back tears, I forced myself to stand and limped away from Taylor's villa.
• Marcus must hate me now. There was no doubt in my mind. He must think I was jealous of Taylor, that I wanted to hurt their child.
• "Charlotte, what are you doing out here? And you're hurt?" I was standing helplessly on the street, trying to flag down a cab, but it was the holidays—hardly any cars in sight.
• Just as I slumped down on a bench at the bus stop to escape the wind and snow, a car pulled up in front of me. Wilson Eckman stepped out. He was Marcus' cousin, two years younger than him.