Lulu

The night of July 13, 2024.-Scott told me he was off to Paris Fashion Week while packing his things into his suitcase. It was something he always did during the summer. The fashion capital of the world was always bustling with summer fashion shows by renowned designers.

But I no longer felt reassured after hearing his confession earlier.

Sure enough, when I opened Leia's social media account, the corners of my lips turned down. Scott was embracing Leia’s waist aboard a yacht. Though his face was obscured by Leia, I recognised the watch he was wearing. I had given him that watch as a birthday gift last year.

One of the slides showed a video of them locking lips passionately, taken from a distant angle, which made me clench my fists tightly.

"How shameless."

Still angry from seeing that, I threw my phone onto the sofa. Seeing them like that truly drained me. My heart rate spiked fivefold beyond normal.

I didn’t want to waste any more time. Once, I had seen Scott shift a bookcase in his study. I hurried over to his office. Men often keep many secrets in their study, besides in their digital files.

"Where’s that book?" I whispered, searching for the old, tattered book.

My eyes widened when I found it. I slid the book about 10 inches to the right. The creaking of the wooden shelf only heightened my curiosity.

"Let’s see what else you're hiding from me, Scott."

I entered the room through the dark corridor, a narrow space that could only be passed by one person. My hand instinctively searched along the wall until my finger found the light switch. It was so easy to find for a hidden room. Scott was careless.

And as always, my judgement proved correct—I found a desk cluttered with documents. Some photos of Leia strutting down the catwalk didn’t interest me, but one object caught my attention: a blue folder from St. Avalon Health Centre.

I opened it carefully. It contained a list of heart donors, which I suspected was for me. Even when I asked Dr. Bell—my cardiologist—he always kept the details of the heart donor list under wraps.

I had to admit, Scott was clever to have kept this file hidden.

But my awe turned to bitter reality when I saw the name: Amelie Rae Jenkins.

My biological mother was on the list!

She passed away three months ago in an accident. At the time, Scott didn’t allow me to see my mother’s body. I insisted that I would be strong during the funeral, and he finally relented.

I never expected to uncover this truth.

"Oh God, why are all these truths so bitter?"

One thing lingered in my mind—if Mum had already passed away, why had I still not received her heart?

"I'm sorry, Mum. It's not that I’m not grieving, but I can't trust Scott anymore." I raised my hand, crossing my body in a sign of the cross.

Maybe I should visit the church tomorrow and seek forgiveness from God, for I wished to receive Mum’s heart before I too die.

***

On the third floor of Rosewood Law Chambers, I shook hands with the Rosewood lawyer—family lawyer of the McCarthy’s—swiftly. I sat according to the direction of his hand, on the sofa. He followed me at a slower pace, perhaps due to his age, nearing retirement.

"How can I assist you, Mrs. Byrne?"

"I want to file for divorce from Scott," I said, my voice firm, though my chest felt tight.

The Rosewood lawyer sipped his tea from his porcelain cup before answering. "I can handle that."

I swallowed, then added carefully, "And I want Lulu McCarthy to disappear."

For the first time in this conversation, his calm expression faltered. "I'm sorry?"

"I need a new identity," I said without hesitation. "I don’t want anyone to find me after this."

He studied my face for a moment, perhaps searching for signs that I was joking. But there was no lie in my eyes. I had made up my mind.

"There is someone who can help you," he said finally. "I’ll contact them."

I nodded without asking further. If anyone knew how to make someone vanish, it was surely the person the Rosewood lawyer recommended.

And so, I found myself in front of an old building in the city centre, unmarked, without any flashy lights. Just a black metal door with a nearly faded number above it.

The Vanishing Point.

A place where people disappear.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of tobacco and old paper. The low ceiling cast long shadows from the dimly swinging chandelier. A man waited for me behind a worn wooden desk, wearing a black shirt and long coat.

"Raven?" I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.

The man looked up, his eyes sharp and calculating.

"Rosewood’s lawyer told me about you," he said. "Tell me what you need."

I took a deep breath. "I need a new identity. No one can trace me, not even my husband."

Raven leaned back in his chair, studying my expression as if trying to gauge how much I understood the world I was stepping into.

"We can do that," he said at last. "But you must understand, this isn’t just about making a fake passport and a new ID. We’ll erase Lulu McCarthy from the world."

"That’s what I want."

He stared at me for several seconds before nodding. "Alright. But I need something from you too."

I tensed. "What?"

"Information about your life, your background, anything that could jeopardise or reveal your new identity later on."

I nodded slowly. "There’s one more thing," I added.

Raven raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

"I want you to investigate my mother’s death," I said quietly. "She was listed as a heart donor at St. Avalon Health Centre, but she died in an accident three months ago."

Raven was silent for a moment, then reached for the phone on his desk and pressed a button.

"This is a job for Morpheus," he said into the phone.

It didn’t take long before someone entered the room.

Morpheus.

His figure was almost invisible, cloaked in all black, his face hidden in the shadow of his hood. He didn’t speak, only stood at the doorway, watching me silently.

"He wants an investigation into his mother’s death and the heart donor list," Raven said.

Morpheus turned toward me, and that’s when I saw them.

Those eyes.

I froze. Something in me tensed as I locked eyes with his hazel iris. I had seen them before.

But where?

My hands clenched instinctively. The memory was nearly surfacing, but I couldn’t grasp it.

"We can start now," Morpheus’s voice sounded, low and mysterious.

I kept staring into his eyes, my heart racing. I had known him—I was sure of it.

But who was he really?

Lulu

I had just reached for my purse to pay the taxi fare when the driver muttered something under his breath, his expression tense as he stared ahead.

“What is it?” I asked, following his gaze.

My heart pounded violently at the sight before me—reporters, photographers, an entire media circus crowding the entrance to the penthouse.

Camera flashes flickered relentlessly, their clicks merging with the voices of journalists calling out questions, hunting for their next headline. Or rather, waiting for me.

Damn it!

I hurriedly slipped a few pound notes into the driver’s hand, muttering a quick thanks before stepping out of the car with a sharp intake of breath. The moment my foot touched the pavement, they pounced.

“Mrs Byrne! Have you seen the photos of your husband and Miss Leia in Saint-Tropez?”

“Is it true that Scott Byrne is having an affair with Leia McCarthy?”

“How do you feel about seeing them so intimate together on the beach?”

I froze. My fists clenched at my sides as I fought to keep my expression neutral.

“I have no comment at this time,” I said evenly, then strode forward.

But the journalists weren’t so easily deterred.

“Mrs Byrne, is it true that you and Scott are having marital problems?”

“Is this the beginning of the end for your marriage?”

The beginning of the end?

The words twisted in my chest like a knife. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe Scott’s empty reassurances, but hearing the media frame it so bluntly felt like a brutal confirmation—everything I had been holding on to might truly be falling apart.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to stay upright, to remain composed. But before I could respond or even think of a suitable answer, a team of penthouse security appeared, blocking the press.

“This way, Mrs Byrne,” one of the guards said, gesturing me inside.

I didn’t hesitate. With hurried steps, I entered the lobby—a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The moment the automatic doors slid shut behind me, I exhaled a shaky breath.

My hand instinctively pressed against my chest, feeling the erratic rhythm of my heart. The sensation was a warning—I had spent far too much energy and emotion on something I wasn’t even certain of yet.

Don’t panic, Lulu.

I quickly made my way up to the penthouse, unlocking the door with trembling fingers before heading straight to the living room. My medication was on the table. With practised ease, I poured myself a glass of water and swallowed the small pill that would help steady my heart.

As the effects of the medication slowly took hold, I let out another long breath before reaching for my phone. Without thinking twice, I dialled Scott’s number.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

No answer.

I ended the call and redialled.

Still nothing.

“Come on, Scott, pick up!” I muttered, frustration bubbling beneath my skin.

I tried again. And again. The result remained the same.

I stared at my phone, my grip tightening. The urge to throw it against the wall was overwhelming, but I could do nothing except sit there, trapped between anger and helplessness.

While I was being ambushed by the press and humiliated by his affair, Scott was lounging on a beach in France with Leia—living as though I didn’t even exist.

I clenched my phone.

Fine, Scott. If this is the game you want to play, then I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you to come home and face the consequences.

***

The day on July 17, 2024,-came sooner than I expected.

When the penthouse door finally swung open, I was ready. Scott walked in first, looking as unbothered as ever, followed closely by Leia, who, as always, looked effortlessly elegant in her white dress.

I stood in the centre of the room, arms folded across my chest, my expression unreadable.

Scott sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Lulu, you’ve seen the news, haven’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I said lightly. “I even got a complimentary interview from the journalists waiting outside.”

Scott let out a quiet groan. “Lulu, listen to me. It’s all just rumours. There’s nothing going on between me and Leia.”

I arched a brow. “Nothing going on?” I repeated, emphasising every word. “So you’re telling me that the photos of you two holding hands, embracing, and nearly kissing in Saint-Tropez were—what? Edited?”

Leia let out a soft laugh, stepping forward. “Lulu, you shouldn’t believe everything the media says. You know how cruel they can be.”

I met her gaze, my eyes sharp. “Funny you’d say that, Leia. Because in those photos, you looked quite comfortable playing the role of the other woman in my marriage.”

Leia’s smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. Scott, on the other hand, stepped closer, reaching for my hand.

“Lulu, I swear, I haven’t been unfaithful,” he said quietly.

I pulled my hand away, exhaling a slow breath. “Alright. If that’s what you’re saying, then I’ll believe you.”

Leia and Scott exchanged glances, clearly surprised by my reaction—calmer than they had expected.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked towards the bedroom. The moment the door shut behind me, I leaned against it, inhaling deeply.

Did they really think I was a fool?

I knew Scott was lying. I knew there was something between him and Leia.

But if they wanted to play clean, then I would play better.

That night, as I lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached for it, frowning at the name on the screen.

Morpheus.

My heartbeat quickened.

The message was brief—just one sentence. But it was enough to send a jolt through me.

“If you want the truth, meet me tomorrow night at Langley Restaurant. Eight o’clock.”

I sat up straight, staring at the text, my mind racing.

Morpheus…

Curiosity coiled in my chest like a tightening knot.

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat unevenly once more.

What would I learn tomorrow?

He must have found the truth about my mother’s death.

Lulu

I wasn’t surprised when Scott followed me into the bedroom, demanding that I pack his suitcase. I didn’t say a word, just did as I was told. That was what I had become—a wife more akin to a servant, voiceless, without the right to complain.

I went to the laundry room, mindlessly sorting warm and cold washes. My hands moved automatically while my mind reeled, haunted by thoughts of Scott’s trip to Paris. But all of that came to a screeching halt when I picked up his light blue shirt.

A deep maroon lipstick stain tainted the collar. I stared at it for a long moment, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t need to be a bloody genius to figure out who it belonged to. I didn’t own a bold shade like this, and I sure as hell wasn’t in Paris yesterday.

A wave of revulsion and fury surged through me. My grip on the shirt tightened, my nails digging into the fabric as I fought the urge to tear it to shreds. Instead, I opted for something more fitting. With pure contempt, I hurled it straight into the bin. Better to have it recycled than to put myself through the indignity of scrubbing out her mark on his clothes.

As I was trying to steady myself, footsteps echoed behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Lulu,” came the saccharine voice. I stiffened. I wasn’t ready for this.

Leia stood at the doorway, a smug smile curling on her lips. She was draped in a silk wine-coloured dress, far too extravagant for lounging about the house. Her fingers clutched her phone, poised to put on a show.

I thought she had left, but clearly, I had underestimated her.

I used to think nothing of it when she stayed over, catching a ride with Scott to her agency whenever she had photoshoots. I had been a fool to trust them.

“I already know, Leia,” I said, keeping my tone even. “There’s no need to keep up this charade.”

“Then you should see this,” she cooed, holding her phone up to my face.

Videos and photos flooded the screen—her and Scott in Paris, all over each other. Them holding hands, kissing under the Eiffel Tower, laughing in the glow of candlelight at some fancy restaurant. They looked like a couple in love.

“Trash,” I spat. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out than watch this filth.”

Leia giggled, tucking her phone away. “But you have to. This is your reality, Lulu. You’re just a wife on paper. Scott doesn’t love you. I’m the one he wants. I’m the one who’s always been by his side.”

I locked eyes with her. “Why are you doing this, Leia? Have I ever wronged you? We were like sisters once. What changed?”

Her smirk faltered, her eyes darkening. “What changed? You did. The moment you walked into this family, everything shifted. You were the pitiful little orphan, and Uncle Montgomery—your precious adoptive father—gave you all his attention. Do you have any idea how that felt? I was his niece, his own flesh and blood, and yet, you became his favourite.”

I shook my head, stunned. “You’re wrong, Leia. He cared about you just as much. He always treated you well.”

“Not like he treated you,” she hissed. “You were special. You were different. I was just an afterthought. I’m so bloody sick of it.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could utter a word, Leia let out a sharp scream.

My eyes widened as I saw detergent spilling from the shelf, trickling down her arm. She clutched her face, wailing in agony.

“Oh my God! My eyes! Lulu, you did that on purpose!” she shrieked.

I stumbled back, horrified. “I didn’t touch you, Leia! You know I didn’t!”

Before I could gather my thoughts, rapid footsteps approached. Scott burst into the doorway, his gaze snapping to Leia, who was now dramatically cradling her face.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded.

Leia pointed a trembling finger at me. Her voice wavered, laced with false pain. “Lulu… she threw detergent at me. She lost it after seeing the pictures from Paris! I didn’t mean to upset her, but she—she just couldn’t handle it!”

Scott turned to me, his expression unreadable. But there was something in his eyes—something cold.

“Is that true, Lulu? Have you completely lost your bloody mind?”

I stepped forward, desperate. “Scott, she’s lying! She set me up!”

He let out a humourless laugh. “Of course, you’d say that. You always refuse to see the truth. And frankly, I’ve had enough of your delusions. You’re nothing but an ungrateful wretch. I gave you everything, but you still act like the whole world is out to get you.”

I froze. His words were like knives, slicing deep into my chest. But the worst part wasn’t the insult. It was the sheer disdain in his voice.

“Scott, you’re making a mistake—”

The sharp sting of a slap cut me off. My head snapped to the side, a fiery pain blooming across my cheek.

I blinked, momentarily stunned. Scott had just hit me.

I slowly turned my gaze back to him, my vision swimming with unshed tears. “You really believe her over me?” My voice trembled, laced with disbelief. “Fine!”

He said nothing. No remorse, no hesitation. Just that same empty stare.

A hollow laugh bubbled from my throat. I wiped at my throbbing cheek, shaking my head. “I don’t know what else to do anymore. If my life is just going to be filled with pain and betrayal, maybe I should just die.”

Scott didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

“Then do it,” he said coldly. “See if I give a damn.”

The world around me shattered. I had hoped—deep down, desperately—for even the slightest flicker of concern. A moment of hesitation. A sign that I still meant something to him.

But I found nothing.

Scott had never loved me.

For a brief second, panic threatened to choke me. My heartbeat quickened; my breath uneven. But I forced it down. I would not let them see me break.

I was done.

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the room. I didn’t want to see Scott. I didn’t want to hear Leia’s pitiful, fake sobs.

I just wanted to leave.