9

Jayson:

I continued scrolling until I found another comment.

~“Apparently Betty has been miserable since the wedding. Her husband never loved her.”

My chest tightened slightly.

I hated that comment.

Not because it was entirely false.

But because it made Betty sound pathetic.

I locked my phone again.

“She knew what she was getting into,” I muttered to myself. “Yet she married me and stayed.”

I looked around the silent room.

For the first time, I noticed how empty it felt.

Betty's perfume was still faintly lingering in the room. Her side of the wardrobe was still filled with clothes. There were a few of her books on the nightstand, and a picture frame sat on the dresser.

I got down from the bed to pick it up without thinking.

It was a photograph from our wedding.

Betty was smiling at the camera while I stood beside her with my arm around her waist.

We looked happy.

Perfect, even.

I stared at her face.

She had always smiled so brightly whenever people were watching.

Had she been pretending the entire time?

I dropped the frame back onto the dresser.

My phone suddenly rang and I checked.

Jewel calling.

I stared at her name.

Normally, seeing her call would have made me smile.

Tonight, it only made me feel scared.

I answered. “Hello.”

“Jayson?” Her voice sounded soft. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

There was a brief silence.

“How is Betty?”

My brows furrowed. “How did you hear about that?”

“I saw the news.”

“You already saw it?”

“Everyone has, you don't have to hide it from me.”

“I'm sorry babe.” I said, rubbing my forehead.

“What are they saying?” she asked.

“That I cheated on my wife with you.”

Jewel went silent.

“Jewel?”

“I…I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“I never wanted things to get this bad.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don't know, Jayson. I just feel like everything is happening because of me.”

I leaned back against the headboard.“This isn't your fault, so don’t blame yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Another silence.

Then she spoke again.

“Did you see the comments?”

“Yes.”

“They're saying Betty is pregnant.”

My fingers tightened around the phone. “They're saying a lot of things.”

“But is it true?”

I didn't answer immediately.

Jewel's voice became quieter. “Jayson?”

“Yes,” I finally said.

She inhaled sharply. “She's really pregnant?”

“Yes.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than before.

“Is the baby yours?”

My jaw tightened.“Yeah, but babe I will explain everything…Jewel.”

“I need to go.” she didn’t let me finish.

“What? Jewel please hear me out…”

“I'll talk to you later.” She cut me off and ended the call.

I stare at my phone, her reaction bothered me. She must be heartbroken that I got someone else pregnant.

I tossed the phone onto the mattress and stood up.

I needed air.

I walked toward the balcony and opened the glass doors. The cool Parisian air immediately hit my face.

Below me, the city was still alive.

Cars moved along the streets. Lights illuminated the buildings. People walked around, completely unaware that my entire life had just become entertainment for strangers online.

I leaned against the railing.

For months, I believed I could control everything.

My marriage.

My relationship with Jewel.

The contract between our families.

But now none of it belonged to me anymore.

Everyone had an opinion.

Everyone knew something.

And the worst part was that Betty couldn't defend herself.

My phone rang again, I went to pick up the call, it was my assistant.

I answered.

“What's wrong?”

“Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you this late, but we've got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” another thing to worry about.

“The media has started contacting the company.”

I straightened. “About the divorce?”

“Yes. Several reporters are asking whether the rumors are true. Some are also asking about Miss Harrington's pregnancy.”

I closed my eyes. “Don't confirm anything.”

“We haven't.”

“Good.”

“There is something else.”

“What?”

“They're asking whether the marriage was contractual.”

My expression hardened. “How did they have the idea of a question like that?”

“We don't know, sir.”

“Find out who leaked it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell the PR team not to release anything without my approval.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended.

I stood there for a moment before pressing my phone to see that the T****k video had already passed another hundred thousand views.

I stared at it.

Then I saw a new notification.

Someone tagged me in another video.

I opened it.

This time, it wasn't about the divorce.

It was about Betty.

A picture of her leaving our mansion had been taken several days earlier. She was carrying a small suitcase while wearing a long coat.

The caption read:

“BETTY HARRINGTON LEFT HER HUSBAND'S HOME HOURS BEFORE HER HOSPITALIZATION.”

My heart skipped as I watched the video.

There were several photographs of Betty leaving the mansion, entering her car, standing alone outside a hotel.

And then the final picture.

Betty sitting on a bench, her face buried in her hands.

I stared at the image.

I have never seen that photograph before.

The comments were worse.

~“She must have been devastated.”

~“Imagine being pregnant and discovering your husband is cheating.”

~“She looks so broken.”

I swallowed.

Then I noticed something else.

The picture had been taken the same night she left.

That means someone followed her.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Who? Who has been watching her?

I clicked on the account that uploaded the video.

It was a new account.

No profile picture.

No personal information.

Only three posts.

All three were about Betty.

I opened the second video.

My blood ran cold.

It showed Betty entering the hospital.

The caption read: “The Harrington heiress may have lost more than her marriage tonight.”

I stopped breathing for a moment.

Someone had been there.

Someone had watched Betty collapse.

Someone had followed her all the way to the hospital.

And now they were posting everything online.

I immediately called my assistant.

“Find this account, I don't care how you do it. Find out who is behind it.”

“Yes, sir.”

I ended the call.

My mind was racing.

This wasn't normal gossip anymore.

Someone was deliberately documenting Betty's life.

Someone has information that only a person close to her could have known.

I looked at the photograph again.

Betty's face was hidden behind her hands.

She looked completely alone.

My chest tightened.

I quickly looked away.

“This isn't my problem anymore,” I whispered.

But the words didn't sound convincing.

I turned off my phone and placed it on the nightstand.

I climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over myself.

I closed my eyes.

But sleep refused to come.

Every time I tried, I saw Betty lying unconscious in the hospital.

I saw Marcus grabbing my collar.

I heard Eleanor asking how I could call her grandchild a mistake and then I heard her words again.

“You made her believe she wasn't worth loving.”

I opened my eyes, stared at the ceiling.

I wondered what Betty had been thinking when she left this house, had she wanted me to stop her?