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Too Late, Mr. Forbes: Watch Me Shine Novel Cover

Too Late, Mr. Forbes: Watch Me Shine

For seven years, Hayden Simmons lived in the sprawling Forbes Estate, trading her journalism dreams to pay for her younger sister's ICU bills. But her sacrifice meant nothing when billionaire August Forbes planned his engagement to Bridget Blake—the same cruel heiress who had maliciously crushed Hayden's mother's only keepsake under her heel while August defended her. When Hayden finally packed her battered suitcase to leave, August didn't apologize. Instead, he brutally froze the trust account funding her dying sister's life-saving cancer treatments. He cornered her, pinning her against the wall, and ordered his security to lock her inside the estate to force her submission. "You don't get to decide when we are done." He thought she would crawl back to him, crying and begging on her knees. He truly believed he could publicly marry another woman while keeping Hayden trapped in his shadow forever, assuming her desperation made her weak. Instead of begging, Hayden left his limitless black card and Cartier diamonds on the vanity. She walked out the iron gates, went straight to his biggest rival's media empire, and published a viral, front-page exposé tearing his pristine merger to shreds. This time, she wasn't going to hide. She was going to burn his world to the ground.
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Chapter 6

The ringing stopped.

Hayden shoved the phone back into her pocket. She pulled her thin coat tighter around her chest and walked down the subway stairs.

She rode the train back to the rundown motel. She unlocked the flimsy wooden door, kicked off her cheap heels, and collapsed onto the stiff mattress. Her muscles ached.

Before she could even close her eyes, the phone in her pocket buzzed again. A continuous, angry vibration.

She pulled it out. August Forbes.

She knew him. If she didn't answer, he would send his security team to tear the city apart looking for her.

She swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear. She didn't say a word.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" August's voice was a low, vibrating growl. The suppressed rage in his tone made the speaker crackle. "You think writing a pathetic little hit piece is going to get my attention? Get back to the estate. Now."

Hayden stared at the water stain on the motel ceiling. Her voice was as still as a frozen lake. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Forbes."

The line went dead silent. The formal title hit him like a physical blow. She could hear his breathing falter.

Before August could speak, a voice echoed in the background of his end of the call.

"August, darling, what do you think of this pink diamond?"

It was Bridget. Her voice was high, sweet, and perfectly manicured.

Then, another voice, smooth and professional. "It's a flawless cut, Mr. Forbes. This pink diamond comes from the exact same mine as the rare blue diamond you purchased from us three years ago. It's truly one of our finest pieces here at the Fifth Avenue flagship."

Hayden's fingers clamped around the phone. Her knuckles turned stark white. A high-pitched ringing started in her ears.

Cartier. Fifth Avenue. The VIP room.

Three years ago, August had rented out that exact room. He had slid a rare blue diamond onto her finger and told her she was the only future he wanted.

Now, he was standing in the exact same room, buying a ring for the woman who had ruined her life, while calling his ex to demand her obedience.

The sheer, suffocating absurdity of it bubbled up in Hayden's chest. A sound escaped her throat. She started to laugh. It was a low, dry, humorless sound.

"What is so funny?" August snapped, his voice suddenly laced with a frantic, unnameable panic.

Hayden stopped laughing. Her voice dropped to a whisper, sharp as a scalpel.

"I'm laughing because your taste in rings is as painfully unoriginal as your threats," Hayden said.

August sucked in a sharp breath. The silence on his end was heavy, thick with shock.

"Happy engagement, August," Hayden said.

She pulled the phone away from her ear and hit the red button.

She immediately went to her settings. She tapped his contact name, scrolled to the bottom, and hit Block Caller. Then, she held down the power button and swiped to turn the phone completely off.

The screen went black. She tossed the dead piece of metal onto the foot of the bed.

She walked into the tiny bathroom. She turned the shower dial all the way to cold. She stepped under the spray fully clothed. The freezing water hit her head, soaking her hair, plastering her shirt to her skin.

She stood there, shivering violently, letting the ice-cold water wash away the last, pathetic trace of love she had left for him.

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