Page 84 of Selfish Desires

“Indebted?” I echoed, my voice thin.

Stephen nodded. “Yes, indebted.” Then he walked to a small wooden table in the corner of the room and picked up two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“Would either of you care for a drink? Wendy, how about you? For old-time’s sake. Have a drink with me.” Stephen tipped the glass to me.

“No, thank you.” I averted my gaze from crazy Stephen, someone who I thought was my friend when I awoke this morning, never imagining he was the enemy.

“Why?” Stephen poured two glasses.

“I’m not in the mood,” I said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t believe you.” A smirk spread across Stephen’s face as he sauntered, holding out a half-filled tumbler, the amber liquid sloshing against the glass. “What’s the real reason? Don’t start to spew lies during your last moments. We should be honest here. Everyone should. Even me.” Stephen’s eyes shifted from me to Vincent. “So? Why won’t you have a drink?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The room fell silent as if the air had been vacuumed out in one swift movement. Stephen's smile froze in place, the glass of whiskey dangling from his grip. I caught the shock ripple over his face before he turned it into a mask of nonchalance.

“Oh,” Stephen murmured. His gaze, still cool and calculating, flicked over to Vincent. “Well. Congratulations. Shitty timing, but still, congrats.” Stephen slammed back his drink before shattering the empty glass onto the floor.

Vincent's face remained stone-cold as he looked to me for answers, but now wasn’t the time to explain anything to him. The news did not bring him joy or surprise; instead, his eyes brimmed with a newfound determination and defiance.

“You won't lay a finger on her,” Vincent warned, his tone dripping with ice. “If you so much as harm a hair on her head...” His voice trailed off into a low growl, his tone leaving no room for interpretations about the consequences.

“Vincent, just stop,” I warned and then swallowed. “Stephen,” I forced his name through my lips. “Can you please tell us why you’re doing this?”

Stephen grinned, eyes flicking back and forth between Vincent and me. “Oh, Wendy. I thought you, of all people, would understand. It’s about settling past debts,” he drawled, pacing the room like a predator circling its prey.

“What debts?” Vincent snarled, his steel-blue eyes never leaving Stephen.

Stephen stopped pacing and turned toward Vincent, tilting his head and studying him. “Emotional debt. A debt that can never be repaid. One that you suffer and carry with you for life.”

“What is he talking about, Vincent?” My voice cracked as my heart dropped into my stomach. We were really in trouble.

“I have no clue.” Vincent’s eyes shot in my direction, begging me to believe him, and I did.

“Of course you wouldn't,” Stephen sneered at Vincent. “You don’t care about people. You definitely don’t care about Wendy.” Stephen pointed straight at my forehead. “You thought Lawrence was the one going after you. It was always me. You ruined us.”

Vincent squinted, trying to understand, but I knew the puzzled look blanketing his face. Once again, he was lost. I wouldn’t dare say a thing. For now, it was best to listen as my heart rate exploded in my chest, threatening to shatter my bones.

“Lawrence, his wife Cindy, and I were together,” Stephen admitted as pools of sadness flooded his eyes. “We had a great life until you and Zachary fucked everything up. But I don’t blame Zachary for what happened to us.” Stephen stepped forward, the overhead lights casting sharp shadows across his face. “I blame you. You broke us. You had to take everything from Lawrence, but that wasn’t enough. Cindy was already pissed at Lawrence for losing the business. Most of our money. Everything. You just had to take everything.”

“Look, just tell me what you want?” Vincent’s voice crossed a desperate line as his hands flexed and sweat beaded his forehead.

“You had to fuck Cindy. You just had to do that. Why? I thought you were all about the money. Going in for that kind of kill. Why did you have to go after Cindy?” Stephen’s voice cracked, emotion running thick. “And be honest, for once in your fucking life, you snake.”

Vincent was silent. His eyes darkened as the room grew colder. I could tell he was going through every memory and encounter, trying to find the hidden truth in Stephen's words. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence had never been heavier.

“I slept with her to spite Lawrence. He was so slow in paying his debt. Drove us crazy. Drove me crazy. I was reckless and heartless back then...I didn’t know the damage I caused, and I’m sorry.” A simple confession hung in the air like a bad odor.

“Well, after you fucked her, Cindy changed.” Stephen threw his arms in the air. “She came home to us that night, and we knew something was off. We thought it was about Lawrence losing the business and how she wouldn’t look at him. But she wouldn’t look at me either, and I hadn’t done what he did.” Stephen looked down, running a hand through his messed hair. A ragged sigh echoed through the deadly silent room. “She wouldn't look at either of us. She was there physically, but her mind and heart had withdrawn into an unreachable shell. It was as if she was haunted by a ghost.”

“Stephen, I had no idea I caused all of this. I am so sorry.” Vincent’s voice held a hint of disbelief but was laced with profound remorse. His hands fisted at his sides, and he leaned forward slightly, almost begging Stephen to see the truth.

“I don’t just blame you—I hold you responsible.” Stephen's words were cold, but his eyes burned with an intensity that made me shiver. “She left us after a few weeks, said she needed some ‘space.’ But we knew better—she never returned. Whatever you did to her. Showed her.” Stephen grimaced. “You made her think we weren’t good enough.”

Vincent’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he sighed heavily. “I didn’t know...” he started, but Stephen cut him off.

“Of course, you wouldn't know,” Stephen spat contemptuously. “You were happy when you'd crushed Lawrence's life. You didn’t spare a second's thought for Cindy or me. And once she was gone, I tried to prove to Lawrence that we were enough. He and I could survive this and continue as a couple together. But Cindy was his wife first. She came before me.” Stephen shrugged weakly. “And in the end, I wasn’t enough. Lawrence chose to leave. And then I was alone. Shit, he even threw me out.” Stephen kicked the leg of Vincent’s feeble chair, causing us to jolt. “Oh, and thanks for taking care of Lawrence for me before I had to.”

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