THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 114: Master Caius, She Has Found Out!

Chapter 114: Master Caius, She Has Found Out!

Heather sat at Caius’s desk, staring at the computer screen. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly in shock.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The video played again and again, like a nightmare she couldn’t escape from.

There she was, on the screen, a boy was dancing on her, too close, and he was laughing like he knew her. Her face was flushed, her eyes glassy.

It was obvious she had been drinking. Then, just moments later, the scene shifted.

The boy lay on the floor. He wasn’t moving. His body twisted awkwardly... he was lifeless!

Heather’s heart pounded in her chest. Her palms felt clammy.

She watched the next part of the footage, her own figure slumped against the couch, her wrists handcuffed—maybe by him.

She could see it clearly now. He had handcuffed her. And somehow... he ended up dead. But there were other voices in the video.

So, how could she possibly explain that. She could hear female voices. Not any she was familiar with, though.

Heather’s hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the keyboard.

Is this real?

Her heart pounded so loudly it muffled the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Would I...? Could I actually...?

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "No," she whispered to herself. "I didn’t... I wouldn’t..."

But the evidence was right there. The video didn’t lie—or did it? Could this be AI? Could someone have edited this to frame her? Her thoughts were spiraling now, tangled with fear and disbelief.

She wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not even close. Her whole life, she’d never so much as killed a bug.

And now, here she was, watching herself at the center of something far worse.

The door creaked open, pulling her from her thoughts.

Heather’s head jerked up. Her eyes locked on the doorway.

Adams stood at the entrance, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, the usual calm expression on his face faltering for a second when he realized where she was sitting.

Heather’s heart stuttered in her chest. For a second, they both just stared at each other, caught off guard.

Heather straightened her posture, schooling her face into something neutral. She knew what he was going to ask, so she answered it for him.

"I’m his wife," she said quickly, masking the panic in her voice. "I can be here."

Adams didn’t argue. Instead, he walked slowly into the room, his shoes silent against the floor. He stopped beside her, eyes drifting to the glowing screen.

His tall frame leaned in just slightly, his long neck stretching as he tried to catch a glimpse of what she was doing.

Heather quickly moved her hand to minimize the video window, blocking his view.

"What are you doing?" she asked, casually sliding her hand over the mouse, trying to block the screen.

Adams gave a faint, polite smile. "Master Caius doesn’t like people snooping around in his study," he said. His voice was calm, but there was a warning hidden underneath. "You know that."

"I’ll leave as soon as I’m done with what I’m doing," Heather replied, standing her ground.

Adams nodded, but he didn’t move. His eyes lingered too long, hovering near the screen. She could see how badly he wanted to know what she was looking at. His curiosity was obvious.

"You are excused," Heather added firmly, her voice sharper this time.

For a second, Adams didn’t move. He finally nodded again, stepping back, but the look in his eyes made it clear—he was still curious.

Heather waited until he was almost at the door. Her eyes drifted back to the screen. The boy. The lifeless body. The cuffs.

Her throat tightened.

"Wait," she called out, her voice lower now, careful.

Adams turned quickly, almost eager, stepping closer. "Yes?" he asked.

Heather hesitated for a breath, then pointed to the screen.

"I want you to look at something for me. Tell me if it looks real."

Adams’s eyes flicked to the screen as she turned it toward him. She clicked the play button.

The moment the dead boy appeared on the screen, Adams’s face changed. His eyes widened slightly, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Heather watched him carefully. "Does this look real to you?" she asked, already sensing the answer.

Adams hesitated. "It depends on how you define real," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

Heather exhaled sharply. Her stomach twisted. She could tell by his reaction. She didn’t even need the words.

"Just tell me," she insisted, her voice cracking slightly. "Tell me if that looks like a real dead body."

Adams finally looked away from the screen, his face tightening with discomfort.

"I... I can’t do that, Mrs Thorne." He said apologetically. "Is there anything else you want me do to for you?"

Heather’s breath caught. She couldn’t run from this. She couldn’t deny what was happening.

Somehow, someway—she had killed someone. And Lauren... Lauren knew.

Her hands trembled.

"Get me a new phone," Heather muttered weakly.

Adams nodded and left the room.

She stared blankly at the screen for a long moment, her mind numb, her body frozen. Her whole chest felt heavy, like someone had dropped a weight on her ribs.

Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Adams pulled out his phone. His fingers moved fast as he typed.

Master Caius, she has found out!

He hit send without hesitation.

Caius had found her that night—alone, cuffed, and unconscious. He’d been dealing with the fallout ever since.

But Heather was never supposed to know. It was supposed to be buried and gone.

Now it wasn’t.

A while later, Heather unwrapped the new phone Adams had delivered. Her hands fumbled as she set it up, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Her eyes were puffy and red from hours of crying, but her face was hard now.

Before leaving the study, she made sure to log out of her email from Caius’s computer. She wasn’t about to leave any more loose ends behind.

It didn’t take long for Lauren’s reply to come through. Her message was short, to the point:

Call me.

Heather dialed, her heart pounding against her ribcage as the line rang.

Lauren picked up on the first ring. "Heather, darling," her voice dripped with mock concern, "how are you holding up? That video must be haunting your pretty little head."

Heather pressed her lips together, forcing back the lump in her throat. "I want to know more about him. The boy... Why was he even there? How old is he?"

"Oh, poor Heather," Lauren sighed dramatically. "I’m afraid he was just a seventeen-year-old. A child, really. Working to help his sick mother and twin sister... It’s tragic."

Heather’s chest tightened, her breath catching painfully. Her hand flew to her mouth, nails biting into her lips as she chewed nervously.

"Of course," Lauren continued sweetly, "this little story could easily find its way to the press. The world knowing Heather Remington killed an underaged boy? Your career and your reputation... ruined forever."

Heather closed her eyes, breathing through the panic building in her chest. "Don’t tell anyone," she whispered.

She didn’t believe for a second that Lauren had any compassion left, but she hoped, even prayed, that maybe—just maybe—there was some shred of humanity buried under all that cruelty.

Lauren let out a soft laugh. "Oh, sweetheart, you’re adorable when you beg."

Heather’s jaw clenched.

"I’m going shopping now," Lauren added lightly, "and you’re coming with me as my personal shopper."

Lauren wanted her to be a slave to her. This was all fun because she had some leverage over her. Heather’s brows tightened. "Why would I do that?"

"Because," Lauren’s voice turned sharp, "if you don’t, I’ll upload the footage. And let’s be honest, do you really think Caius or Alex would want to be associated with a murderer?"

Her heart twisted at the mention of Alex. Her son and her entire world.

Lauren wasn’t finished. "I wonder how Alex will react when he finds out his mother kills underaged boys... pays for them to strip for her... What an image that paints."

Heather squeezed her eyes shut, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. She wanted to fight back, scream, but she couldn’t risk losing Alex.

She couldn’t.

Lauren held all the cards, and Heather knew it. But she also knew this wouldn’t end here. Lauren wouldn’t stop until she had Heather exactly where she wanted her—broken, submissive, and humiliated.

Heather’s plan was already forming. She’d play along for now. But one way or another, she’d get that footage and end this.

Finally, she exhaled, voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

"What’s the location?"