8

Jayson:

My head snapped to the side from the force of the slap. For a few seconds, I stood there, stunned, before slowly raising my head to look at Eleanor.

Tears were streaming down her face, but there was something else in her eyes now. Disappointment. Deep, painful disappointment.

“She loved you more than she loved her own father,” Eleanor said, her voice trembling. “Do you want me to start telling everyone how many times she cried to me because of you? How many times she called me and told me your words had hurt her? You constantly made her feel like she wasn't good enough. You insulted her, pushed her away, and never once tried to know the woman you married. You called her a cheap woman simply because she married you, and now you're standing here telling me your baby was a mistake?”

My jaw tightened.

“What exactly do you expect me to say?” I asked, rubbing my cheek. “I'm being honest. Would you rather hear me lie and pretend I suddenly love her? The marriage lasted barely a year. It was a contract, Eleanor. A contract between our families. Nowhere in that agreement does it say I'm obligated to fall in love with her or spend my entire life trying to get to know her.”

Eleanor stared at me as though my answer had only made things worse.

I didn't care.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

“My son is right,” my mother suddenly said, stepping closer. “Even as a woman, I spoke to Betty. I told her to walk away from the marriage if she couldn't handle the situation, but she refused. She believed she could change his mind.”

Eleanor slowly shook her head.

“You really believe that makes what he did right?”

My mother remained silent.

“I don't understand why everyone is acting like I forced Betty to stay,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “She knew how I felt about Jewel before she agreed to this marriage.”

“Lia, he cheated on her,” George said, looking directly at my mother. “I don't care if it was a contract. They were married. He had no right to cheat.”

I scoffed. “Of course you'd say that.”

George's eyes narrowed.

“After all, you get to be with the woman you loved, right?” I asked. “Or did my father ever try to take her away from you? Or did your own father force you into a marriage you didn't want?”

The hallway went completely silent.

George's expression changed, but he didn't answer.

He stared at my mother.

That silence told me enough.

Marcus let out a bitter laugh.

“What was I even expecting from a boy whose mother got married again after leaving his father?”

My mother's face immediately hardened.

“Watch your tongue, Mr. Harrington,” she snapped. “Don't start saying things you know nothing about.”

I glared at Marcus. “Don't talk about my mother like that, I can tolerate anything but saying bullshit about my mother...”

“I'll say whatever I want when it concerns my daughter, let that sink in your skull.”

“And what exactly do you want me to do?” I asked, my voice rising. “Stand here and pretend I'm in love with Betty because she's lying unconscious in that room? Pretend I never loved Jewel? Pretend everything between Betty and me was real when it wasn't?”

Nobody answered.

I took a deep breath.

“No matter what any of you say, it won't change the fact that I don't love your daughter,” I said firmly. “I don't hate her either. I never wanted her to end up in a hospital, and I never wanted her to get hurt, but I can't force myself to feel something that isn't there.”

I didn't wait for anyone to respond.

I walked away and didn't want to know what Betty's family thought of me anymore.

Maybe they hated me.

Maybe they blamed me.

Maybe they would never forgive me.

I don't care anymore.

By the time I returned to the mansion, it was already late in the afternoon.

The house was strangely quiet.

This was the same mansion Betty and I had shared for the past year, but without her presence, it suddenly feels empty, I don't know.

I walked upstairs and entered our bedroom, immediately feeling the exhaustion from everything that had happened today settle heavily over my shoulders.

I took off my wristwatch and placed it on the drawer beside the bed before dropping my phone beside the lamp.

Slowly unbuttoned my shirt.

The moment I closed my eyes, Betty appeared in my mind again.

Her pale face.

The tubes attached to her body.

The way Eleanor had cried over her.

I exhaled sharply and rubbed my face.

Why was I even thinking about this?

I had made my choice.

I love Jewel and that was the only thing that should be important.

But then another thought came creeping in.

What if I was making a mistake?

I immediately pushed it away.

No.

I couldn't start questioning myself now.

I had spent months trying to convince Betty that our marriage wasn't real. I couldn't suddenly start feeling guilty because she was hurt.

Still, the image of her lying on that hospital bed refused to leave my mind.

A part of me felt like choosing Jewel was the right thing to do.

Another part of me wasn't so sure anymore.

And that uncertainty irritated me.

I headed into the bathroom and took a long shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the thoughts crowding my head. I finally came out, in my pajamas, to the bedroom.

I was exhausted and all I wanted was to sleep peacefully without reasoning anything.

I sat on the edge of the bed and suddenly realized how thirsty I was, so I drank a glass of water.

With a sigh I lay on the bed, covered myself with the duvet, and reached for my phone from the bedside table, intending to check a few things before sleeping.

Instead, I opened T****k, since I needed a distraction.

Maybe I'd find something funny enough to get my mind off everything.

The app loaded.

The first video that appeared made my entire body freeze.

It was a video of Betty and me.

Our wedding anniversary.

We were dancing together, smiling for the cameras, looking like the perfect billionaire couple everyone believed we were.

Someone edited a picture of Jewel over the video.

My eyebrows pulled together.

Then a man's voice began playing over the footage.

“It has come to light that the marriage between popular billionaire Jayson Blackwood and billionaire heiress Betty Harrington has officially come to an end. Sources claim the marriage collapsed after Jayson was caught cheating with his longtime lover, Jewel Smith.”

My stomach dropped. “What the fuck?”

I immediately sat upright.

I watched the video again.

Then again.

How the hell did this get out?

I opened the comment section.

Thousands of comments had already flooded the video.

One comment caught my attention first.

~“I'm not surprised. Jewel has been reposting his videos for months.”

I scrolled.

~“I heard their marriage was only a contract.”

Another appeared.

~“I've heard the whole story. Betty, Jay, and Jewel—it's a mess.”

Then another.

~“Why did Betty even marry him when she knew he wasn't interested? The man made it clear he didn't love her. Why marry someone like that?”

My eyes continued moving down the screen.

There were hundreds of comments.

Some were defending me.

Some were defending Jewel.

But most of them were attacking Betty.

They called her desperate.

They said she forced herself into a marriage with a man who didn't love her.

Some even claimed she had married me for money.

I clenched my jaw.

I expected the media to eventually discover something, but not this quickly.

I locked my phone and tossed it onto the bed.

Paris was ruthless when it came to gossip.

But this wasn't just gossip anymore.

Someone knew about the divorce.

Someone knew about Jewel.

Someone knew about the contract.

And somehow, the story had reached social media before either family had even released an official statement.

I picked up my phone again and stared at the screen.

Then another thought hit me.

If the media already knew about the divorce...

What else did they know?

My eyes drifted toward the closed bedroom door.

For the first time that day, a cold feeling settled in my chest.

Betty was still in that hospital.

Pregnant.

And now the entire city was talking about our marriage.

I stared at the screen for another few seconds before tossing my phone onto the bed again.

I didn't understand how this had happened so quickly.

Only a handful of people knew about the divorce. Our families knew. Betty knew. I knew. Jewel knew.

Unless...My eyes narrowed.

Someone talked and I picked up my phone again and opened the video, scrolling through the comments with a growing sense of irritation. The video had already accumulated thousands of views, and the number kept increasing every time I refreshed the page.

Then I saw something that made me stop.

~“Someone close to them definitely leaked this. How else would people know about the contract?”

I stared at the comment.

The contract wasn't something the public was supposed to know.

Our families had gone to great lengths to keep the arrangement private. Even most of our business associates believed Betty and I got married because we were genuinely in love.

So how did someone outside our circle know?