THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 47: THIS IS NOT A REAL - DONT UNLOCK

Chapter 47: THIS IS NOT A REAL Chapter DONT UNLOCK

Heather hadn’t planned on going out.

The day had been long, her back sore from fittings and ad rehearsals, her eyes tired from smiling too much for things that didn’t matter. So when Jake Calloway texted her about a sponsor dinner, she almost ignored it.

But then he followed up with a call. Said it was important, said it would be casual — just a few of the movie’s sponsors getting together before the premiere. A final toast, nothing big, just some people and wine. And she loved wine, not even enough to still attend. He said she could leave early if she wanted. He made it sound harmless.

And fine, she had nothing better to do.

She hesitated. Something about the way he smiled when he asked made her gut twist. But she said yes anyway. Because she just didn’t want to deal with another phone call from her agent telling her to be visible. But she planned to eat, smile, nod a few times, then get out.

So she got dressed, kept it simple—dark jeans, black top, heels, and her coat. No even makeup, just lip gloss. Barely made an effort, because she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. It was just dinner, that’s all it was.

Now she sat in the backseat playing with her ring, and chewing the inside of her cheek. She told the driver to take the long way just so she could think. She didn’t ride in his car, she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

The restaurant was tucked away in the upper hills, the kind that served on rare days. When she arrived, he was already waiting outside like some smug prince. He eyes glanced on his watch before he locked eyes with her once more. She knew she was tardy.

"You look good," he said, his eyes raking her frame for a moment too long.

Heather gave him a tight-lipped smile and walked past him without a word and into the restaurant, heading straight to the receptionist.

"Jake Calloway," he spoke from behind.

The woman smiled like she’d been expecting him. "Of course. Right this way, Sir."

Heather followed them through the cozy maze of tables and candlelight, not expecting much—until she stopped.

There were two chairs. Two.

She looked around slowly. The restaurant was almost full, every table holding couples leaning into one another, murmuring over wine and candlelight.

She looked down at the table again. A single rose, and two wine glasses already set.

Her brow furrowed. She looked up—Jake was already standing behind the chair, smiling like he hadn’t just lied.

"Where are the sponsors?" she asked, not moving.

He gestured toward the seat. "We got here early. They’re on their way."

She glanced around again. Not a single group or empty seat in sight. Every inch of this place screamed romance. Lovers. Secrets. Sex.

Not business. She didn’t need a genius to tell her he was lying to her.

Jake cleared his throat and glanced to the side, pretending to study the menu. "What do you feel like eating? They’ve got great—"

"This doesn’t look like a sponsor dinner," she said slowly, then looked at him, voice sharper now. "Jake, what the fuck?"

He inhaled deeply. "Look, I just wanted to talk, okay? I knew you wouldn’t come if I asked you straight up."

"You think lying to me makes me want to sit down and enjoy a meal with you?" She raised her voice. "Do I look that stupid to you?"

"No," he said, lowering his voice and glancing around. "It’s not like that. I just wanted to have a nice night with you. That’s it."

"This is pathetic." Her hand gripped her purse tighter. "You pulled this crap because you thought it’d be easier than hearing me say no?"

"Hear me out, I just wanted to have dinner. One dinner. Nothing weird."

"Save it." she grabbed her bag.

He reached out, gently catching her wrist, the other one. "Please. Just stay. Just for a while.". Then he noticed the bandage on her wrist. He knew better not to ask.

She yanked her hand back, disgust clear on her face.

"Don’t you ever touch me ever again.*

"If I had told you the truth, would you have come?"

She opened her mouth to speak again, to tell him exactly how she felt about him, when it happened;

*Clatter!*

There was a crash. Heather turned instinctively, eyes falling on the waiter groaning and clutching his wrist on the floor. He almost fell on the old couple having dinner at the center of the room. So, a few customers gasped at the scene. The broke wine glasses rolled to Heather’s feet.

The chef rushed out, apologizing to every customer and helping him up, trying to calm everyone down.

Heather watched, but she was barely interested in the commotion. And then, just as she looked away from the waiter—her eyes locked with a familiar pair of green eyes.

The eyes locked with hers, unmoving. She squinted, trying to get a better look if what she was seeing was real or hallucination. Until a waiter paused at his table, dropping the meal he ordered.

It was real.

She didn’t think she’d see him again—atleast not now and certainly not here. Or after what happened in the closet.

Heather stiffened. What the hell was he doing here? Was he on a date? More importantly—who was he sitting with? She tried to look around him, flicking past his shoulder. The waiter just moved, unblocking his date. And that’s when she saw her.

Her lips moved, she was laughing at something he wasn’t even saying.

Of course.

"One pretty face and he’d serve you divorce papers again." Except Heather wasn’t that pathetic person who’d cry and beg. She would be glad for a divorce paper—something to save her from this hell hole.

Lauren wore a short red dress, which barely covered her thighs. She let her bra strap show on purpose. Her body angled toward Caius like she was about to crawl onto his lap. This was probably how she got him in the past. Her stepsister was an industry wh*re, no doubt.

The dress said "fuck me." The look said "he might." But Caius wasn’t looking at Lauren. He hadn’t looked away from Heather. She glanced between the two of them. Lauren, smiled and leaned forward to say something. And he was sitting straight, still staring. He probably wasn’t even aware of the woman sitting across from him. His eyes locked on hers like she’d been caught doing something wrong and had something to explain.

For someone cheating, why was he looking at her like she was the one caught?

It hit her slowly, like ice water down her spine. He didn’t look like he’d been caught in the act. He looked like she had. Like she was the one betraying something unspoken. And he was going to stand up any second—was going to march over and pull her out of the seat, then put a bullet through Jake.

Heather looked away, her brows furrowed. He’s here with her. So why the hell is he staring at me like that? She thought.

She sat down cause she felt dizzy. Jake muttered something she didn’t hear. And his hands accidentally brushed past hers, she pulled back, knocking at the menu. She bent to pick it up, and she felt his stare again.

She glanced back. He was still staring at her. More intensely this time at Jake.

Then it clicked.

Was he jealous?

She had never seen Caius jealous before. Possessive, maybe. But this was different.

Her breath hitched. "Oh my God," she muttered.

Jake started talking again. Something about her dress, her eyes, and the wine.

She nodded. Smiled. But her mind wasn’t there. She could feel it, that stare, from across the room.

Then her phone lit up.

[What are you doing here? Leave.]

"..."

Heather slid the phone to the side and leaned just a little closer to Jake. And every time Jake touched her hand, she didn’t pull away. She pretended like it didn’t make her skin crawl. Every time she heard that low growl from across the room, she smiled wider.

Her phone buzzed again. She sighed, expecting another text from Caius. But when she looked down, it was a message from Lauren.

A picture. Lauren sat beside Caius, smiling into the camera. She wore that same ridiculously short, low-cut dress. But what caught Heather’s attention was Caius—he wasn’t even looking at Lauren. His eyes were somewhere else. No, not somewhere—someone. She knew exactly who. Lauren wasn’t aware of who stole his attention and that she was here.

Below the photo was a caption in Lauren’s usual venom-laced tone: One pretty face and it’s over.

Heather turned her head slightly towards their table—and nearly flinched. The intensity of his stare was worse now. His jaw locked, hand in a fist on the table. He looked like he could kill someone.

Heather smiled faintly, set the phone face-down on the table, and leaned in closer to Jake.

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