“Eight years, Rhea,” she continued, crossing her arms. “Eight years of playing house, of waiting for a man who never wanted you. And now, after all that time, you’re finally leaving.” She chuckled. “Took you long enough to realize that Malachi and Marc will never love you. You’ve been nothing but a worthless concubine.”
I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. “Enjoy it, then,” I said simply. “Do whatever you want. None of this concerns me anymore.”
Her smirk widened. “Oh, I will. Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Soon, I’ll move in and take your place.”
Before I could respond, the front doors swung open.
Malachi stepped out, followed closely by Marc.
And in an instant, Casey’s entire demeanor changed.
She gasped dramatically and dropped to her knees, clutching the hem of my dress as if her life depended on it.
“Rhea, please!” she sobbed, her voice thick with desperation. “Please don’t go! Marc needs you! You’ve been taking care of him all these years—how could you just leave him like this?”
I stared down at her blankly.
“Marc loves you, he really does,” she continued, her voice cracking. “He’s just a child! Please, don’t leave him. I’m so sorry for everything, just please, Rhea—”