BLEACHED

61: Southren property

All damn day the nerves have been itching and tagging at the last strands of sanity she has left.

Pregnant?

She growls under her breath as she paces around the bathroom while glaring into the mirror that mocks her in revealing her angered expression.

Wrinkles, wrinkles, wrinkles. The mirror whispers to her as she doesn't shift it to a smile.

Too angry to care about the wrinkles she'll get from her arched brows pinched to the center of her forehead and deep frown.

Her age remains a mystery from all the skincare and body routine she doesn't on herself, making her look like a woman with a son who might only be ten or less.

Not a son turning twenty seven.

If it weren't for her fame and how much people know her, no one would have guessed her son's age correctly.

"This keeps getting better." She grits her teeth as she leans from the mirror and softens her expression.

No one can see that.

She turns on her heel and marches right out of the bathroom and into the corridor, heading straight for the living room where her waiting guest sits, sipping on a glass of alcohol per his preference of a drink.

"I hope it's not a lie." Heather says as she walks to the single armchair and sits down, throwing a leg over the other as she tilts her head to the side slightly. "I hate liars."

"What would I gain from it?" The man presses his lips tightly as he smiled at her while raising a brow. "Nothing, of course. It's the truth, that girl is pregnant, one month into the pregnancy, entering her second by tomorrow noon."

Heather clicks her tongue and glances off to the side as she clenches onto the armrest of the single couch.

"She was with a man when she headed to the hospital. I investigated the man and it is a young Lawyer by the name of Edward Cameron Hilton. He's picking quite a few gold pieces in his career, and he's gaining worldwide recognition, though slowly. In short he's s powerful man."

Heather glances off to the side and away from the investigator, feeling her toed about to dig their way out of her fluffy indoor slippers.

Every word coming out of the investigator's mouth only ticks her.

"So he knows she's pregnant with Domen's child." She isn't asking and more of a statement.

Now not only should she deal with Lavender but also a powerful lawyer.

What a drag.

"Is there anything else you'd like to inform me before you leave?" Heather asks as she glares at the investigator who raises his brows and shrugs his shoulders.

"If you insist, I eavesdropped on their conversation before they parted ways. Turns out the Lawyer is planning on taking the role of the child's father and keep things in the dark. Sounds like the problem has fixed itself. Doesn't need our intervention." The investigator shrugs his shoulders as Heather rolls her eyes in annoyance.

"You're growing old that you can't remember." Heather clenches her jaw tightly. "Domen wasn't my first, Desmond and I had a child before we got married, it was hidden from the public and you were responsible for hiding it. During then his parents ordered you to end it... I begged not to let that happened but I was powerless. Image is everything to this family and Desmond's parents are well alive and won't tolerate something similar."

"Why not marry them now?" The investigator smirks when he knows too well what she'd say, simply wanting the pleasure of tormenting her.

"She's not fit to marry into the family, and you know that." Heather hisses as she gets up from the couch. "Take me to her. Desmond won't be home until tomorrow morning. This is the only chance I can talk to her."

The investigator chuckles in a low tone as he gets up from his seat and follows the woman towards the front door.

The Southren family. The investigator thinks to himself as he glances towards the portraits of Heather, Desmond and his parents all over the walls along with Domen's portrait. Everything has to be perfect. Even the children. Domen's life has been tailored by his own father who won't take no for an answer.

The perfect wife, the perfect life down to his personality are all fabrications from the hand that received him from birth.

And he made sure he was the first to hold his son.

Domen is just a pawn in Desmond's game of chess, and Desmond has always been a pawn to his own father's game.

The child controls it's child and when will this cycle end?

Maybe a little misfortune is all it needs. If that girl is lucky enough, all this madness can end.

That is, if she even has the rights to keep that baby.

As far as I know, that child belongs to the Southerns and they can do anything to it.

Anything.

Clicking his tongue, the investigator watches as the chauffeur drives towards them on their way out of the doors, nearing the gravel road where he stops the car and quickly gets out to open the door for his madame.

"Domen's house." She tells the chauffeur who nods and bows slightly as she steps into the car.

The investigator follows behind and sits a few feet from her, though not to close to avoid any misjudged suspicions  in case Desmond hired a watcher for Heather.

He's done it before months before their wedding.

Itching to find her slightest imperfection.

He didn't.

But even after that, he still tailed her after the marriage.

Luckily, she is a loyal woman and has always been that way.

"So you plan on forcing her to get rid of it." The investigator says as he glances at Heather who rolls her eyes slightly and glances to her laps instead.

"Trust me, I'm showing her mercy by doing so. When Desmond or his parents find out they even went as far as a kiss, they will tear her skin from her body before she even realizes it's gone. They will show her no mercy and she'll be as though she's never existed."

He already knows this.

He's been in that near experience before for stepping in too deep into the Southren family.

He investigated things he shouldn't have and ended up on the tip of the Southren blade.

In the end, they saved him from sudden disaster and hence, his life is owed to them.

Like devil's they are. He thinks as he glances elsewhere, pitying Lavender who doesn't have the slightest clue what she's brought herself into.

The mess she's bringing upon herself and the mess she's carrying.

He saw her go into the hospital and he thought to himself 'she'll get rid of it herself'.

But when she came back out... He knew she didn't go through with it and their conversation confirmed it.

Now she's standing at the edge of a grave, wondering which side she'll fall over to.

The deep dark end, or the low hard ground.