Chapter 77

Chapter 77:
Inside the Walsh Villa, Haley stared at Marc’s hollow expression, torn between heartbreak and frustration.
“Get out,” Marc muttered, waving her off like a bothersome fly. But Haley wasn’t giving up so easily. She rushed forward, grabbing onto his arm again. “Marc, I know things are rough right now with Walsh Group, but I can help you! If you work with my family, we can get through this. I promise!”
At the mention of help, Marc finally blinked, a flicker of interest returning to his dull eyes.
Sensing she had his attention, Haley lit up with renewed confidence. “Marc, the company needs you! You have to pull yourself together. I’m here. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what.”
Marc looked at her, his voice low and raw. “And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”
“It’s easy,” she said, beaming. “My family’s got massive influence in Achury. You just need a few projects, right? I’ll talk to my dad. He’ll back you.”
To Haley, this was nothing.
A simple favor. One she’d been saving for the right moment.
Now that Marc was at rock bottom, she believed her timing was perfect—he’d be desperate, dependent. And once he owed her, he’d be hers completely.
Marc didn’t reply, but he didn’t tell her to leave either.
That silence gave Haley hope. Encouraged, she went on, “But if my dad’s going to help you, you’ll have to marry me. Be his son-in-law. Don’t worry about Stella—she’s long gone. A woman like her, always chasing some thrill… who knows which random guy she ran off with?”
That was it. Marc’s fingers twitched.
Then, without warning, he snapped—grabbing Haley by the throat.
“Ahh!” she shrieked, eyes wide in terror.
She struggled against him, but his grip was relentless.
“Marc! What are you doing?! Let me go!” Her voice cracked with panic, but his eyes blazed with fury—cold, violent, unrecognizable.
She didn’t get it. Everything she said was true, so why was he losing it?
Marc glared at Haley, suddenly realizing something he had missed. Stella used to trust him.
Blinded. Completely. So when had that changed? When had she stopped believing in him?
Unless… someone had told her. There was no other way she could have found out.
His gaze darkened as he stared at Haley. Of course. She had told her.
“Give me your phone,” he growled, his grip tightening.
Haley didn’t know why he wanted her phone, but she didn’t dare resist, fearing he might snap her neck if she said no.
“I—it’s in my bag… Marc, please… just let me go, I can’t breathe…”
Still holding her with one hand, he dug through her bag with the other. The second he unlocked her phone and opened the messages, his jaw clenched.
She hadn’t even bothered to delete the evidence. She was truly stupid. The chat logs with Stella were all there.
Messages laced with provocation, manipulation, and photos. Enough to turn a mild suspicion into cold certainty.
He threw the phone down, his grip tightening even further.
Haley was losing air, her face turning purple.
“Didn’t I warn you? I told you never to tell Stella about us. How did you promise me back then, huh?” His voice dropped to a whisper, lethal and full of menace. “If you think your life’s running too long, I can end it for you right now.”
Haley thrashed wildly, eyes bulging, face flushed and contorted. Her nails scraped at his arms.
She was slipping fast.
Just when she was on the verge of passing out, Marc shoved her away like garbage. She hit the floor hard, coughing violently, gasping for breath with tears streaming down her face.
She looked pitiful—makeup smeared, hair tangled, pride in shreds.
“Marc… why? Why do you treat me like this?” she sobbed. “Is Stella really that important to you?”
Marc stared down at her, eyes blazing. “Yes.”
Haley, let me make this very clear—” His voice was ice. “You could multiply yourself a thousand times and you still wouldn’t be worth a single strand of Stella’s hair. The mistress of the Walsh family can only be Stella. Never you. You were nothing but a distraction. Did you really think I loved you?”
Haley broke down completely, sobbing into her hands as Marc walked away without a second glance.
He didn’t accept the Smith family’s help. He didn’t need them. He had his own ways of dealing with the company. Right now, none of that mattered—not stock prices, not contracts, not damage control. The only thing that mattered was finding Stella.
Later, in his study, Marc sat in front of the camera. He hit record and began to speak.
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