Page 8 of From West, With Regret (NYC Billionaires #2)
The Halls are one of the richest families in the country. Heath never explicitly shared the depth of his family’s wealth with me, but a simple internet search told me my husband was worth at least three hundred million.
Heat blooms across my chest when I think about me searching online for West the other night.
I needed to know more and why he gave me this sense of familiarity, but I’d given up after nearly an hour of not finding a single profile or mention of a West Hall that matched the one with the kind blue eyes who brought heat between my thighs.
Probably explains why I never knew Heath had a brother. He doesn’t exist on social media.
I haven’t told Selene about my interaction with West. That I was honest with him more than I’ve been honest with anyone in my life.
I didn’t tell her he’d given me butterflies and made me embarrassingly weak in the knees.
I didn’t tell her about how I’d humiliated myself when I’d caught him staring at me as I lied to the entire crowd about his brother when he’d known the truth.
Everything about West, I’ve kept to myself. Just like the darkness of my unknown past I carry with me.
My throat tightens, and I struggle to take a breath. The blades of the spinning fan blur, and I grow dizzy. Probably from the lack of oxygen going to my brain. I shoot straight up and move to stand, anxiously wrapping my hand around the back of my neck.
“I need to change out of this sports bra,” I blurt out. “It’s suffocating.”
“Okay.” Selene sits up, resting her arms on her bent knees, her brows pulled together. Her blonde hair shimmers in the sunlight. I don’t want to leave, but there isn’t a glaringly obvious sign telling me to leave the bit of life I have back in Boston.
Where would I stay? Here in this tiny New York apartment with my sister?
“Are you okay?” she asks, concern lacing her voice .
“Yeah. My body just hurts. My arms and legs feel like Jell-O. I’m going to shower.”
“Okay.” She rises to a stand, too. “Try not to take too long though because I need to shower as well, and the hot water only lasts so long. Or else we’re waiting over an hour before I’ll be able to take mine.”
I nod. “I won’t take long.”
I leave my sister in her living room and walk the ten feet to her bedroom.
I peel my workout clothes off my body and quickly step into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, though it doesn’t warm until I’ve already squeezed a dollop of shampoo into the palm of my hand.
I’m careful not to get too much water on West’s faded phone number, but when I catch a glimpse of it from the corner of my eye as I hastily smooth body wash down my legs, I know it doesn’t matter if it disappears now. I already have it memorized.
How was West able to infiltrate my mind so easily after only a few hours of interaction?
As if he’s turned himself into his own puzzle piece, I leave him with the rest I have yet to sort, and quickly rinse my body off before the hot water starts to dwindle.
Shivering, I step out and wrap a towel around myself, then squeeze the excess water from my long, black hair.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, deciding to go with a simple, relaxed look today.
I brush a coat of mascara on my lashes and a bit of tinted moisturizer over my skin before stepping out into Selene’s bedroom.
“All set, Selene!” I shout from the end of her bed.
“Great.” She strides down the hall, making her way to the bathroom. “Just in time, too. The smell of my own sweat was getting to me.”
I laugh as she scrunches her nose in disgust, curling her lip.
I’m slipping my shirt over my head when my phone rings from my duffle bag that’s sitting on top of Selene’s dresser. After digging into my bag, I fish it out and read the Boston number on the screen.
“Hello?” I answer, bringing it to my still-damp skin. At least this time it’s from the shower, not sweat.
“Hi, Mrs. Hall?” the woman on the other end asks.
“This is she. Who is this?”
“My name is Mercedes Rhodes, one of the lawyers from the firm that represented your husband Heath Hall.”
“Oh.” I blink, running my hand nervously down the front of my thigh before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“According to your husband and his family, I was instructed to give you this call in the event of the situation we are in.”
Nervous, I look down at my lap and pick at a loose thread on Selene’s blanket folded beside me. “Situation?”
“Yes. My partner, Eli? You spoke with him before about the funeral. He handles the wishes of our clients regarding the funeral service. I handle the financial side of things. Everything from estates to bank accounts to investments.”
“Okay,” I mutter, not knowing where she’s going with this.
Mercedes pauses, no doubt waiting for me to ask a question.
When I don’t, she clears her throat and continues.
“Your husband instructed us to turn over his apartment and bank accounts to his mother. He doesn’t mention you in his will to receive any financial benefits from his death.
We’ve also spoken with his insurance company, and there was no policy for you, either. ”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes. “I, um, I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice softens. “The only money and assets you keep are ones you had before your marriage to him. Ones you owned before him. ”
My eyes widen as they fill with tears. I take a mental inventory of everything I own that didn’t involve my husband.
A bank account in my name, but not with nearly enough money in it to stay afloat on my own for long.
And my belongings in Heath’s apartment.
“What about my clothes and some of my possessions?” I ask Mercedes, swiping the tears from my cheeks. “I had those things before I married him. Can I come get those?”
She hesitates. “I’m sorry. The instructions specifically state that upon his burial, you are no longer allowed access to his estate.
Our firm will gather your belongings and send them to you.
I will send you an email for you to list all the pieces and items that are yours.
Is there an address you would like us to deliver them to? ”
The air is sucked from my lungs. Is this even legal ?
I think of everything I own inside that Boston high-rise apartment. Not much is valuable or sentimental, aside from a few items standing out to me, but the most important ones are my art supplies and a few pieces I’ve created in the makeshift studio Heath allowed me to have in our apartment.
Part of me wants to resist and fight back against Heath’s wishes from beyond the grave, but the other doesn’t.
I have a separate bank account—one Heath never had access to—but I know there won’t be enough money there.
Not when if I want to take on the team of lawyers backing Heath.
Even if I did have the money, I’m not certain I would bother, because putting in the effort would stop me from letting my tumultuous marriage with Heath go.
The memory of the cold tile beneath my hands and feet is more alive than ever.
A sea of broken glass surrounding me, and the grating echo of my husband’s screams make it easier to let him go.
I shouldn’t be surprised by this move .
It’s typical of Heath. Ask for everything, leave me with nothing.
I straighten my back. “Sure. You can email it over.”
“I’ll do that once we end this call.” Mercedes voice is filled with sympathy. “Again, Mrs. Hall, I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
The cynical chuckle of irony barely leaves my throat before Mercedes abruptly ends our call.
I drop my phone beside me and bury my face in my hands.
No fresh tears come when I inhale three long and steady breaths.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and the image of the clock tower plays in my mind, as it always does.
I’ve researched it enough to recognize it as Big Ben, or by its other name, Elizabeth tower. In London.
The image playing in my mind now isn’t the same as the photos taken or the one in real life, though. It’s a small piece of metal, refracting in the sun. The sight of it warms my gut, filling me with a sense of comfort and peace.
I clench my fists, digging my black-painted nails into my palms. The sensation stings, pulling me out of what I assume to be a memory.
“Hey.” Selene’s soft voice causes my eyes to fly open. I snap my head to my left and look up at my sister. She’s clutching the towel wrapped around her chest, and her blonde hair is draped across her shoulder, dripping wet. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I blow out, looking back down to my hands in my lap before my attention drifts to my arm and West’s faded number. “I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Selene squeezes my shoulder before moving around the bed.
I twist at the waist and, over my shoulder, say, “One of Heath’s lawyers just called. ”
“Really?” She’s pulling on her pants, but she stops mid-thigh. “What did they say?”
“He’s cut me off from everything.” I stare off in to the distance, but I can still see the metal clock. I shove the memory back down.
“What do you mean, he’s cut you off?”
A part of me hardens when looking back at my sister, the realization that returning to Boston was never a reality I wanted in the first place. Maybe Selene is right. Maybe my place is here, with her. With the only family I know.
“It’s a lot to explain right now.” I trace my finger along West’s faded number.
“What a fucking dick.” She scoffs in disbelief. “I know it’s terrible talking ill of the dead, but shit…” She shakes her head. “Thank God you’ve created a following on social media to keep a steady stream of your artwork sales.”
“Yeah, true.” My sister is right. I nod, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. I’ve been selling copies of my artwork online since before I met Heath. I’ve only ever wanted to be my own wind beneath my wings. “But does the offer for me to stay here instead of returning to Boston still stand?”
Selene wraps her arms around me.
“Are you fucking kidding me, London?” She buries her face into my neck. “Of course it does.”
I chuckle. The uncertainty of my future may be weighing on me, but I already know it’s infinitely better than returning to Boston with nowhere and no one to turn to.
Selene keeps her arms wrapped around me as I eye the growing crack in her ceiling. “I don’t know how long we’ll last living in this apartment together, but I’ll figure out something,” I tell her.
“Stay as long as you need,” she reassures me.
I return her a hug, knowing that, even if I wanted to stay forever, forever isn’t a possibility. Even Selene will agree to that.