SHEILA POV:
He didn't press closer. Instead, he straightened up, pulling a black card from his wallet in a smooth, practiced motion.
He tucked it into the strap of my dress. The cold, sharp edge of the card against my skin made me flinch.
His fingers brushed my collarbone, a deliberate, lingering touch. His eyes were full of a meaning I didn't want to understand. "When you figure it out, call this number."
With that, he turned, grabbed his suit jacket from the floor, and walked out of the room without a backward glance.
The click of the closing door echoed in the sudden, deafening silence, leaving only the frantic drumming of my own heart.
I slid down the wall, my strength gone, and hugged my knees. My body was still trembling.
I pulled out the card. It was pure black, with a single name, "Shane Montgomery," and a phone number embossed in gold foil.
I ran into the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting the scalding water beat down on me. I scrubbed my skin over and over until it was red and raw, as if I could wash away the memory of his touch, of the entire night.
In the mirror, I saw the dark, ugly bruises on my neck and collarbone. The tears I'd been holding back finally broke free.
I sank to the tiled floor and sobbed, for my lost innocence, for my trampled dignity.
As I cried, a memory flashed in my mind: last night, just before I lost consciousness, the strange, triumphant smile on my stepsister Rita Kowalski's face as she handed me that glass of champagne.
A jolt went through me, sharp and clarifying. The drink! The problem was in the drink!
I remembered the sudden, intense heat that had spread through my body after I drank it, the dizzying loss of control.
I was drugged. Rita drugged me.
Rage and hatred erupted like a volcano. It was her again! Six months ago, she was the one who took advantage of Nolan Sullivan's car accident and his resulting amnesia, lying and claiming to be his girlfriend, stealing him from me.
I had thought it was just a tragic accident, that Nolan had simply forgotten me. Now, I saw it all. It was all part of Rita's meticulous plan.
Stealing my love wasn't enough. Now she had to resort to this disgusting method to ruin my reputation completely.
I shot to my feet, turning off the water. I dried myself with a towel, my eyes turning cold and hard.
I couldn't be weak anymore. I wouldn't let her win.
I dressed, then picked up my clutch from the floor, checking its contents. Phone, wallet... everything was there.
My eyes fell on the black card I had thrown away.
I hesitated for a moment, then walked over and bent down to pick it up.
I didn't know how this man, Shane, fit into Rita's scheme, but he had to be a part of it.
I had to figure this out.
I composed myself, applying makeup with a steady hand, covering the exhaustion on my face and the marks on my neck.
The girl in the mirror was no longer frightened and helpless. Her eyes were filled with the fire of revenge.
I walked out of the hotel room. The sunlight was blinding. I squinted, adjusting.
I pulled out my phone. A dozen missed calls from my father.
I took a deep breath, ignored them, and called an Uber.
Sheila Hayes, you can't be a sacrificial lamb anymore. From this day on, you will make everyone who hurt you pay.
The car headed toward the familiar Hayes residence, but I knew what awaited me wasn't a safe harbor. It was a cage of predators. And I had to find a weapon before I was devoured.
