As Melissa Shaw ran up the stairs of the penthouse, she could hear the sound of a vase crashing in one of the rooms upstairs. The sound was, no doubt, from Dahlia's room and Melissa already knew that.
Which was why she was racing up the stairs like her life depended on it. She had received a call from one of their maids that Dahlia had suddenly started breaking things after reading a news article.
Melissa's mind raced as she pondered on what Dahlia could've read to lose her mind so much. Her feet thudded on every stair until she finally got to Dahlia's room.
The sight before Melissa shook her. Dahlia was on the floor, sitting among the mess she'd created. Broken vase pieces on the rug covered the floor, the closet open wide with her clothes scantily milling around the room. Melissa's heart thumped in a slow, lurching beat as her eyes fell on Dahlia who was trying to catch her breath.
Her face was tear streaked and her mascara and red lipstick had smudged. Dahlia rose to her feet again and reaching for her bed, she bent to grip the frame and, with a loud roar, she lifted it with all her strength, but failed to overturn the mattress and the sturdy wooden frame.
She then moved to her desk and, with one swipe, cleared the top. Catching her laptop before it hit the floor, she spun where she stood and hurled it onto the wall.
Melissa's heart jumped as she heard it shatter. Her sister was out of hand. She took a step closer to Dahlia, but Dahlia shook her head, raising her hand to ward Melissa off.
But Melissa kept moving towards her.
"No! Don't come near me! This is all your fault!" Dahlia rasped, trying to move out of Melissa's way. "Keith wouldn't have withdrawn from me if you and your husband weren't being so greed!!"
Melissa dropped to the floor near Dahlia. She was trying to understand what Dahlia meant by Keith withdrawing from her.
"I don't understand you, Dahlia." Melissa said, frustrated.
But Dahlia continued to move further away from Melissa until she ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. The head maid, Chantelle, who had been working in the penthouse for more than a decade, walked into the room, holding a tablet in her hand.
"Mr Shaw, I think this was the article Miss Dahlia read." Chantelle said, handing the tablet to Melissa.
Melissa took a seat on the edge of Dahlia's bed before she registered the words on the tablet screen. "Keith Jordan sighted with an unknown woman at a hotel. Could they be the real thing?" Melissa read out the headline and her blood ran cold.
Then her eyes moved to register the picture on the screen. The picture of Keith with his arm wrapped around a woman and their faces almost touching. She could only see the side view, but a dreadful realization sank into her already tensed body.
This woman in the picture looked a lot like someone she knew. Or used to know, it didn't matter because, right now, the haunting memories were starting to replay in Melissa's memory. Harriet Prescott.
Melissa's gaze stuck glued to the image and no matter how much she commanded her eyes to move away, they refused. She dragged in a much-needed breath. The woman in the picture looked a lot like Harriet. And it was only a matter of time before the press figured it out.
How was this possible? Harriet was dead, Melissa had made sure of it. Got rid of Harriet to secure a future with Damien.
"What the heck happened in here?" Damien's voice swept across the room as he walked in.
He was home to pick up some important papers for his clients and he hadn't expected to come home to such a big mess.
Melissa raised her head to look at Damien, then handed the tablet over to him. Damien's eyes swept through the screen before he cursed under his breath. "Son of a dog! I've always known that bastard was seeing another woman.!"
Melissa sighed in exasperation as she rose to her feet. "Look at the woman in the picture, Damien!" She snapped.
Damien shrugged before he finally paid mind to it. He stared at the screen for five seconds and no words seemed to come out of his mouth. His breath had caught in his throat. He blinked twice to be sure he was seeing right but, indeed, the lady in question looked like Harriet, his dead ex-wife.
It wasn't just looked, it was her. It was Harriet. One part of Damien knew, another part didn't want to accept it. Harriet was dead, gone. She had died in an explosion five years ago.
Or maybe she wasn't dead, because now, Damien knew without no doubt that this lady was Harriet. The curly strawberry blonde hair. It was too impeccable to be a coincidence.
A chill of unease ran down Damien's spine and fear pumped dark wine through his veins, sharpening his senses. Harriet was alive. She had been alive for five whole years.
For years, Damien had blamed himself for Harriet's death. He had beaten himself up, loathed himself. Even though he hated that Harriet cheated on him and even got pregnant with another man's child, he still blamed himself for abandoning her and letting that misfortune befall her. But all these years, she had been the one deceiving him?
"I thought Harriet was dead?" Melissa yelled as she paced the room.
Damien placed his hand on his forehead in frustration. "Apparently, she isn't. How is any of this even possible? Could this lady be a doppelgänger?"
"Oh please, Damien!" Melissa spat. "There is no such thing as coincidences. This woman is Harriet, and she's out to get us!"
Damien took a seat on a nearby chair across the room and exhaled sharply. One of them needed to stay sane and even though Damien's mind was a confused havoc right now, he couldn't let it show.
"You're overreacting, Melissa. Even if this woman is Harriet, we have nothing to be afraid of." Damien said.
"Nothing to be afraid of?" Melissa scoffed loudly. "She stole my sister's fiancé!"
"Stole is a little bit far-fetched, don't you think? If Keith really loved Dahlia, it would've been impossible to steal him." Damien added.
"You're taking Harriet's side again as usual!" Melissa yelled as she grabbed the last standing vase that was seated on the dresser, then tossed it across the room. Unfortunately, it only made a clacking sound since it was metallic. It only seemed to fuel her frustration. "After five years, she still has an impact on you!"
"Taking Harriet's side? When have I ever done that? Everything I've ever done has been for you and Larry, Melissa." Damien countered, trying but failing to keep his voice from rising.
"Don't give me that, Damien." Melissa pulled out her phone from the pocket of her slacks as she said, "Heck, I need to call Keith. He really can't do this to Dahlia!"
Melissa stormed out of the room, and Damien continued to sit in the middle of the mess. Heck, what was he supposed to do? How could someone that was dead suddenly become undead? How did Harriet manage to stay hidden for five years while the guilt about him being responsible for her death ate him up?
Damien took a deep breath and rose to his feet. Whether this person was or wasn't Harriet, didn't concern him. He had moved on and had lived a peaceful life without Harriet for five whole years.
Harriet's return was never going to change anything!