Forbidden Christmas With The Bellamys

#4

Chapter 4

~ Hailey ~

The door burst open with enough force to rattle the frame, I was also rattled.

Trice stormed in, her silk robe barely tied, face blotchy with tears and rage. She didn't look at me. Didn't say a word. Just marched straight to her suitcase and started throwing clothes inside.

"Trice?" I sat up in bed, my heart lurching. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving." Her voice was raw, stripped of its usual warmth. "I'm getting the hell out of this house."

"Wait, just... calm down for a second…"

"Calm down?" She whirled on me, eyes blazing. "You want me to calm down? Hailey, I just f****d a man I thought was someone else! Do you understand how humiliating that is?"

I flinched at the venom in her voice. "I know, but…"

"No, you don't know!" She grabbed her makeup bag and shoved it into the suitcase. "I threw myself at him. I put on lingerie. I went to his room like some desperate i***t, and the entire time…" Her voice cracked. "The entire time, he knew. He knew I thought he was Navine, and he didn't say a word."

"Trice, it's late. It's almost midnight…"

"I don't care." She yanked the zipper closed. "I'll get an Uber. I'll walk if I have to. I'm not spending another second in this house."

"Please, just wait until morning…"

"Why?" She finally looked at me, and the devastation in her eyes made my chest ache. "So I can run into Nathaniel at breakfast? So I can watch him smirk at me like I'm just another conquest? So I can feel like an even bigger slut than I already do?"

"You're not a slut," I said firmly, getting out of bed. "He used you. He's the asshole here, not you."

"It doesn't matter who's the asshole, Hailey. It matters that I feel like shit." She grabbed her suitcase handle. "Every second I stay here, I'm going to remember what I did. How stupid I was. How easy I made it for him." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't. I just can't."

I reached for her arm. "Trice…"

She pulled away. "I'm leaving. Don't try to stop me."

I followed her out of the room, still pleading. "At least wait until you're not this upset. You're making decisions out of anger…"

"Good." She didn't slow down. "I should've been angry the second he kissed me in that pool."

We reached the top of the grand staircase. Trice was already halfway down when I saw them.

One of the twins and Yvonne, pressed against the wall near the landing. His hands tangled in her hair, her leg wrapped around his waist, mouths locked together in a kiss that was anything but innocent.

I froze.

Trice stopped mid-step, her suitcase clattering against the floor.

They broke apart at the sound, startled. Yvonne's face went sheet white. The twin, dressed in different clothes than I'd seen either of them wear tonight, took a casual step back, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh my God." Trice's voice was hollow. "Oh my f*****g God."

"Trice…" Yvonne started.

"Is that Navine or Nathaniel?" Trice's laugh was brittle, verging on hysterical. "Because I honestly can't tell anymore, and clearly it doesn't f*****g matter in this house!"

The twin said nothing. Just looked at Yvonne with an unreadable expression before turning and walking away, disappearing down the hall without a backward glance.

"This is insane." Trice descended the rest of the stairs quickly, her suitcase banging against each step. "You people are insane. Your sister is engaged to their father and she's making out with one of his sons? What kind of f****d up…" She shook her head violently. "I'm done. I'm so done."

"Trice, wait!" I called after her.

But she was already at the front door, yanking it open. "Have fun with your crazy-ass family, Hailey. I hope it's worth it."

The door slammed shut behind her.

I stood on the stairs, unable to move. Unable to process what I'd just seen. Yvonne and one of the twins. Kissing. Here. In Jackson's house. While wearing his engagement ring.

"Hailey." Yvonne's voice was small, pleading. She started up the stairs toward me. "Please, it's not what you think..."

"Not what I think?" I finally found my voice, and it came out sharp. "What else could it possibly be, Yvonne? You were kissing him!"

"It's complicated...."

"Complicated?" A bitter laugh escaped me. "You're engaged to Jackson. You're supposed to be getting married. And you're in his house, kissing his son. Which one was it? Navine? Nathaniel?"

Yvonne's eyes widened. "Wait... how do you know about Nathaniel?" Her voice pitched higher. "Is Nathaniel back?"

The shift in her tone caught me off guard. "Yes, he's back," I said slowly, watching her face. "And he slept with Trice tonight. She thought he was Navine."

For a moment, Yvonne just stared at me. Then she burst out laughing.

The sound echoed through the empty foyer — bright, cruel, utterly delighted. She doubled over slightly, one hand pressed to her stomach as the laughter kept coming.

"Oh my God," she gasped between giggles. "Oh, that's perfect. That's so..." Another peal of laughter. "I knew it. I knew Navine wouldn't be interested in someone like Trice."

The words hit me like ice water.

Someone like Trice.

"So it was Navine." The realization settled over me, cold and sickening. "You were just kissing Navine."

Yvonne's laughter cut off abruptly. Her face shifted, the amusement draining away as she realized what she'd just revealed.

"I..." She straightened, smoothing down her dress. "Hailey, don't..."

"Don't what?" My voice was hollow. "Don't be such a hypocrite? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes, actually." Her tone changed completely....no more pleading, no more desperate explanations. Just cold practicality, as if she were tired of pretending. "Don't be such a hypocrite, Hailey. Just pretend you didn't see anything."

I stared at her in awe

"Jackson is calling the priest tomorrow," she continued, her voice matter-of-fact. "We're doing a small ceremony for New Year's Eve. A starter wedding before the big one." She took a step closer, her eyes hardening. "So whatever moral outrage you're feeling right now? Swallow it. Don't you dare snitch on me."

"Yvonne..."

"What's going on here?"

We both spun around.

Jackson stood at the top of the stairs, white hair slightly mussed, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt. His eyes moved between us, concerned and confused.

"Why are you both awake? It's barely two in the morning."

My mouth opened, rage coiling in my chest, words ready to spill out—everything I'd just witnessed, everything Yvonne had just admitted.

But then I caught Yvonne's look. That warning glare, that silent threat.

And I said nothing.

Jackson descended the stairs slowly. "I have CCTV in the main areas of the house. I saw Trice leaving with her suitcase." His gaze landed on me. "What happened? Is she alright?"

Yvonne didn't miss a beat. "Oh, her mother called. She's sick — something with her heart, I think. Trice felt terrible about leaving so suddenly, but you know how it is with family emergencies." She shook her head sympathetically. "She asked us to tell you how sorry she was for the abrupt departure."

The lie came out so smoothly, so naturally, that for a moment even I almost believed it.

Jackson's face softened with concern. "That's terrible. I hope her mother will be alright. Should we have offered to drive her? It's late..."

"She insisted on calling an Uber," Yvonne said quickly. "You know how independent she is."

I stood there, frozen, watching Yvonne weave her story like she'd been born doing it. And maybe she had been.

The memories crashed over me. I had spent sixteen years of watching Yvonne lie with that same easy grace.

We'd been twelve and fifteen when the accident happened. The car crash that took both our parents in one terrible night.

Yvonne’s mother had married my father and barely a year after their marriage, before the accident happened.

Yvonne’s mother died on impact. My father held on just long enough to speak to us one last time.

I could still see him in that hospital bed, tubes and machines surrounding him, his voice weak but insistent.

"Take care of each other," he'd whispered, his eyes moving between us. "You're sisters now. All you have is each other."

He'd looked at Yvonne specifically. "You've always been so good to Hailey. Promise me you'll keep looking after her."

And I'd said nothing. Said nothing about how Yvonne had never been good to me. About how she'd tormented me since the day our parents married. About how I'd learned to fake gratitude, to pretend her cruelty was kindness, just to keep the peace.

I'd let him die believing Yvonne was someone she wasn't.

The lawyer had been there too. I remembered him reading the will of how my father had left his modest assets to both of us, to be accessed when Yvonne turned eighteen.

Three years later, when Yvonne finally came of age, she'd sat me down with tears in her eyes.

"The lawyers disappeared," she'd said, her voice breaking. "They took everything, Hailey. All of Dad's money. There's nothing left."

I'd known she was lying. Known it in my bones. But I had no proof. No way to verify. I'd searched, made calls, tried to track down the law firm. But I'd been fifteen and clueless.

The money had simply vanished. And Yvonne had stopped pretending to care.

"Hailey?"

Jackson's voice pulled me back to the present. He was looking at me with those kind blue eyes, concerned. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"I'm fine," I managed. "Just worried about Trice."

"Of course." He moved closer, his hand landing gently on my shoulder. "Try to get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow — Christmas breakfast, presents, the whole works." He smiled. "I want you to feel at home here, Hailey."

My phone rang, cutting through the moment.

I pulled it from my pocket, grateful for the interruption. Derek's name flashed on the screen.

"I should take this," I said quickly, glancing at my buzzing phone. "It's a work call."

Jackson frowned, his brows drawing together. "At two in the morning?"

I offered a weak smile, just as surprised as he was that Derek thought calling this early on Christmas Day was okay. "Yeah… I’m sorry. Just... excuse me for a moment."