Chapter 252
I and Marissa, the vice president of marketing, have formed a new habit of meeting for lunch. It started as casual, a convenience thing-we both needed a break from the relentless grind at Illusionaire. Now, it’s become a ritual. I’m still unsure if this qualifies as friendship, mainly because I don’t know what friendship actually looks like. But Marissa talks a lot, and I love to listen. Her stories have this wild, messy charm, like someone spilling glitter across a chaotic art project.
We’re at a cozy little café a few blocks from work, the kind of place that tries too hard to be trendy with its mismatched furniture and aggressively minimalist menu. Marissa is mid-rant about her current boyfriend and her dog, gesturing with a fork that’s dangerously close to flinging her salad across the room.
“I swear, Nathan only comes over to spend time with Chubbs.”
I choke on my sip of iced tea. “Chubbs?”
She nods. “My French bulldog. He’s-how do I put this-larger than life. And I mean larger. The vet politely called him ‘robust,’ but we both know he meant obese. The little chunk wobbles when he walks.”
I laugh, picturing a French bulldog teetering like a bowling pin about to fall over. “So, Nathan has bonded with your dog. I’m guessing that’s a good thing?”
Marissa leans back in her chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It would be if he didn’t act like Chubbs was his dog. Do you know he feeds Chubbs by hand? Organic turkey slices. Like he’s preparing him for some Michelin-star meal. Last weekend, he bought Chubbs a sweater. A cashmere sweater. Said it was ‘necessary for his comfort. I didn’t even know they made cashmere for dogs!”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh too loudly. This is a welcome change from the guilt I’ve been feeling all morning. “I mean, it’s kind of sweet. Shows he cares.”
“Sweet?” She leans forward. “Julie, the man told me ‘he understands Chubbs on a spiritual level. I kid you not. They have this whole… thing. Like Chubbs will sit there, giving him side-eye-he does this thing with his little tongue sticking out-and Nathan will be like, ‘Ah, I see. You’re upset I didn’t bring the turkey slices today.’ And I’m standing there like, ‘What the hell are you two even talking about?””
I burst out laughing, earning a few glances from the other patrons. “Okay, but now I need to know-does Nathan have a spiritual connection with you, or is it just Chubbs?”
“Oh, we have a connection. But it’s not spiritual. It’s more… physical, more submission and handcuffs. You know what I mean.”
I groan, covering my face with my hands. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“What?” She shrugs. “I’m just saying. The man might be in love with my dog, but he’s not bad at showing me some attention
too.”
“Sounds like you’re competing with Chubbs for his affection.”
“I am! I’m not denying that. I feel like he might be the one, though. I’d rather have a guy who’s sweet to my dog than one who ignores him. Chubbs is basically my child. And Nathan… he’s good with Chubbs. He’s good with me. For now, that’s enough.”
I nod, swirling my straw in my glass. “Sounds like you’ve got a good thing going.”
“I do. But that’s an old story. Tell me about you, Julie.”
“Me?” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms and staring at Marissa.
1/3
“Yes, you. It’s like I know nothing about you. How are you holding up after the divorce?”
A soft laugh escapes me, and I shake my head. “It’s been months, Marissa. I’m happily engaged and pregnant. The wedding’s in three weeks.”
“So what? Your ex-husband’s been all over the news. I don’t know about you, but I’d be mad if the evidence of my ex’s infidelity went viral.”
I shrug, letting a smile curve my lips, though it barely touches the edges of my eyes. “Doesn’t bother me a bit.”
“You’re a better person than me then.”
“Not exactly. It’s called acceptance.”
“Grief 101?” Marissa leans forward, lowering her voice. “You know, the CEO’s secretary was gossiping about Illusionaire acquiring Paragon Jewels. Apparently, they’re keeping it super hush-hush.”
I take a moment to process her words. “Adeline O’Brien sold the company?”
She nods, leaning back and sipping her iced tea. “I mean, it’s not hard to see why. Did he really do all those things? Force Emily into a relationship? I feel sad every time she talks about the torment she endured.”
I shift my gaze to the window, watching cars pass by and pedestrians scurry across the street. The movement is oddly soothing, a chaotic rhythm that keeps my thoughts from spiraling too far.
“What?” Marissa says.
I snap back to the present, blinking at her. “Sorry?”
“You had a funny look just now.”
“Well, I… I was wondering if I should say it.”
“Say what?”
“Emily’s lying. Ryan might be a lot of things, but he didn’t do all that. She’s just trying to ruin him.”
Marissa’s jaw drops. “But there was that footage of him-”
I cut her off. “She lied to him about being pregnant with his child. Turns out, she was using that for monetary gain. In the video, he’d just found out. We were married for seven years, Marissa. Seven. Countless tests. Spent a small fortune on fertility treatments. The doctors couldn’t explain why they didn’t work. We were both healthy. It was like the universe decided we weren’t meant to have kids. So when Emily got pregnant, I thought maybe I was the problem. Maybe there was some condition the doctors missed.” I pause, my throat tightening as I push the words out. “Then I got pregnant. And Emily’s child wasn’t Ryan’s. And…well, it’s a feeling you won’t understand until you’ve felt it. The possibility that you were the problem all along. He was wrong for how he reacted. But Emily deserves as much heat as he’s getting.”
Marissa leans forward, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait a damn minute. How did he figure out the baby wasn’t his?”
“I told him.”
“You told him? You knew?”
I hesitate, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms. “I caught her cheating, and she confessed. I recorded it. I even blackmailed her to get evidence for the divorce trial.”
Marissa sets her tea down. “You had this all along and let that bitch climb to the stars as the media queen?”
2/3
***** Ww sevenge spirit”
have a headphone out of her bag. Der fingers tying across the screen.
www
Me
te pudo costuma tha is going to be bigge And with the pre-trial by 8 pm.? Imagine the key wice a
week cheering for her. I will empoy my bank account to see that.”
High
waxa box and ingin my there you sure about this?”
von
vetem bust og der bag bogbone. “Oh, my cousin’s already responded. He’s excited. Now send MALAN Ke
beto page tee the take as 13 the only thing andkorting me.
toket mer that is a wondwind probing out the threads of the last few hours, wondering if some cosmic
ex
A LOOK MANNE
since last night, unable to shake the feeling that I’m evil
fox baring de exere’s a tally taking the problem out of my hands.
Just thank G
She rews her eres sets the eyes sending the evidence or not?”
Ferdale Yake me mons. I have to edit some things
something
Nergis Chedive her the your time. But not too much rilee Wee got a bitch to burn.”
Despite myself, I laugh. Maybe just maybe, this is the med detition of ponce a chronic end to an existing chaos.
Chapter 253
The door creaks open, and Ben Wallace, his lawyer and longtime friend, looks up from the table. He waves Ryan over.
“Afternoon, Ryan. You look like shit,” Ben says in greeting.
“Thank you. Got anything?” Ryan’s voice is low, strained.
Ben leans back in his chair, tapping a pen against the legal pad in front of him. “I’ve got a few leads we can work with, and I’ve tried to line up some witnesses. But to be honest, most are too afraid of the media fallout. My advice? Let’s try to settle this with Emily before it goes any further.”
Ryan’s jaw tightens. “I’m not giving that bitch a dime.”
“You might not have much of a choice. You shouldn’t have started anything with her. Or get caught on camera pinning her against a wall.”
“That’s because she deceived me.” Ryan’s words are clipped.
“Deceived you? Like she held a gun to your head and forced you to start a relationship with her? Come on, man. Nobody believes that.”
Ryan leans forward, his voice a low growl. “Do you?”
Ben hesitates, the pause dragging just long enough to sting. “I’m your lawyer. I’ll believe whatever you want me to believe.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, it’s the one you’re getting.”
Ryan scowls, running his hand through his hair for what feels like the hundredth time. “This whole thing is a setup.”
“Maybe. But that’s not going to fly in court. You’re a public figure, Ryan. The jury’s going to see a rich guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants, not some innocent victim of a conspiracy.”
Before Ryan can respond, the door opens. Emily strides in. She’s dressed to kill, her tailored blazer and pencil skirt screaming confidence and control.
Her lawyer, a sharp-looking man with steel-gray hair, follows close behind, his demeanor as polished as his expensive watch.
Emily’s smug smile is the first thing Ryan notices, and it makes his blood boil.
“Good afternoon, Ryan,” she says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
Ryan doesn’t reply.
Emily’s lawyer steps forward, extending a hand to Ben. “Robert Lang. A pleasure.”
Ben shakes his hand briefly, his expression unreadable.
Emily slides into the chair across from Ryan, crossing her legs. “So,” she says, “are we ready to talk about how you’re going to make this right?”
Ryan leans forward, fists clenched on the table. “The only thing I’m ready to talk about is how quickly you can drop this nonsense and move on with your life.”
“Oh, Ryan. Still delusional, I see. This ‘nonsense’ you’re referring to is my life. You dragged me into it, remember?”
215
Ben places a hand on Ryan’s arm, a silent plea for restraint.
Robert clears his throat. “Let’s keep this professional, shall we? We’re here to discuss terms, not trade insults.”
Ryan glares at him. “There are no terms. I’m not paying her a cent.”
“Then I guess we’ll see you in court,” Emily says.
Ben leans closer to Ryan, his voice low but firm. “You’re not helping yourself here.”
Ryan ignores him, his focus locked on Emily. “You’re not going to win.”
She smiles. “Oh, I will. And I’ll enjoy every moment of it.”
Ryan can feel his pulse pounding, his control slipping with every passing second. Before he can respond, a phone pings. Heads swivel toward the sound. Emily’s lawyer glances down at his phone-obviously the culprit. His brows knit together in confusion. Then he leans toward Emily, whispering something inaudible. Her smirk falters, replaced by a look of shock as she snatches the phone from his hand.
Emily’s entire attention falls on that screen, and with each passing second, her expression darkens. She suddenly stands, her chair scraping against the floor. Without a word, she storms out of the room.
“Emily,” Robert calls, standing and scrambling to stop her. He calls her name all the way out.
“What just happened?” Ryan says, turning toward Ben, who is now staring at his own phone, thumbs flying across the screen The privacy filter on the screen blocks Ryan from seeing anything, but Ben’s expression shifts-first confusion, then amusement, and finally outright laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Ryan asks.
Ben doesn’t look up. “It seems Emily won’t be able to afford her lawyer anymore. The internet is on fire, Ryan. And for once, it’s in your favor.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ben sets his phone down, a grin stretching across his face. “A video just dropped. Emily, your precious Emily, was caught on an office desk with one of your employees. A guy named James, ring a bell?”
Ryan’s brain struggles to process the words. “Who the hell is James?”
“It gets better.” Ben leans back, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Right after that, an audio clip was posted. A conversation between Emily, James, and your ex-wife, Julie.”
Ryan’s heart skips a beat at the mention of Julie. “What kind of conversation?”
“The kind where James admits the baby isn’t yours. Apparently, it’s his kid. Emily tried to pull a smart one on you, hoping to climb to the top by giving you what you so desperately wanted. A baby. She called it… what was the phrase? Oh yeah, ‘hustling.”” Ben’s grin turns wolfish. “And now ‘hustling’ is the top trending hashtag on X.”
For a moment, Ryan says nothing. The information crashes over him in waves-betrayal, relief, disbelief. And then, like a dam breaking, he laughs. It’s loud, bitter, and uncontrollable.
He almost doesn’t hear Ben asking, “Do you think Julie’s behind the leak?”
Ryan’s laughter fades, replaced by a contemplative silence. His thoughts drift to Julie, her calm strength, her knack for, always being three steps ahead. Oh, of course she leaked it. She’s such a sweetheart. He barely notices when the court clerk walks in, her voice a distant hum as she and Ben exchange legal jargon.
