The frustration and desperation festering within Nicole had finally erupted like a volcano. She'd exhausted every avenue in her entanglement with Jarrod, unable to sway him and inadvertently endangering Roscoe in the process. Now, she felt trapped in a hopeless situation, utterly lost.

As Jarrod's fingers tenderly grazed her wound, a shadow flickered in his eyes, hinting at a deeper darkness within. "I've realized that love, or the lack of it, doesn't really matter to me anymore."

His new creed was possession, to hold the one he yearned for captive by his side. Everything else, even love, was merely an illusion, an elaborate charade.

“Nicole, you have three days to make your decision," Jarrod proclaimed, ascending leisurely to his full height, exuding an aura of collected calm. "Whatever path you choose, it shall be final."

And just like that, Jarrod pivoted on his heel and strode away, not once casting a glance over his shoulder.

Nicole's pillow bore the marks of her tears as she lay curled up beneath her sheets.

Jarrod's words reverberated in Nicole's mind like a haunting prophecy.

Someone with Vicki's malice was not rare. It was a harbinger of what awaited others. Even if she had foreseen the need to synchronize the evidence, it would have been futile against the privilege of those heirs. They held the means to vanish abroad, evading the storm of scandal until it subsided.

Nicole had witnessed such schemes unfold before, familiar with the bitter reality that loomed ahead.

Disillusioned and weary, Nicole succumbed to sleep, a sense of resignation weighing heavily upon her heart.

Weary from the storm of emotions that had battered her the day before, Nicole's body remained heavy with exhaustion.

Today's emotional whirlwind had drained her. As she stirred from her slumber, the enticing aroma of food filled the air.

A thoughtful maid had arrived, carrying a tray adorned with an array of wholesome, nourishing dishes.

Despite the maid's attentive care, Nicole couldn't shake off the unease that lingered in her presence. “You can go," she said. “I'll be fine on my own."

With a bow filled with grace, the maid accepted Nicole's polite dismissal. As the maid set down the spoon with precision, she spoke in a tone of genuine concern. "Miss, you must eat more. Mr. Schultz personally commissioned these costly nutritional dishes. His concern for your well-being is evident.”

With that, the maid silently exited the room.

A bittersweet smile tugged at Nicole's Lips. While her physical well-being could be tended to with nutritional food, the question lingered. What salve existed for a shattered heart?

Despite her stomach's protests and the absence of hunger pangs, Nicole compelled herself to consume the meal before her. She understood that preserving her health was paramount. Hunger strikes were for petulant children. The weak, she knew, couldn't think clearly or devise effective plans.

Nicole nibbled delicately, savoring each morsel just enough to stave off hunger, but far from what would appease a ravenous appetite.

As the maid tidied up the scarcely touched dishes, Jarrod's eyes lingered on them. “She didn't fancy this today. Adjust the menu accordingly," he directed.