The Scandal

**Caspian's point of view**

On the screen, in vivid, unmistakable detail, was footage from that night at the hotel. The night someone had broken in and shot me.

But this wasn't security camera footage.

It looked like it had been recorded from a body cam.

The video showed me and Isla in bed, half naked, tangled together in the sheets. The angle captured everything. Our faces. The intimacy. The unmistakable reality of what we were doing. Then came the moment the masked figure burst in, gun raised, demanding I sign papers I hadn't even read.

My mind immediately went to the person who attacked us that night. The intruder who'd forced me to sign those documents at gunpoint.

This footage came from them. From their perspective. From a camera they must have been wearing.

Which meant they'd planned this. All of it.

The sound of camera shutters going off pulled me violently back to the present. Phones were raised everywhere now, dozens of them, all pointed at me or at the screen behind me. Flashes went off and whispers that had started moments ago grew into a dull roar of voices, all talking over each other.

I looked back at the audience, my stomach twisting into knots.

Everyone was staring. Some looked shocked, jaws hanging open like they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Others wore expressions of pure disgust, their eyes narrowing as they looked at me like I was something filthy they'd stepped in.

A few of the older investors, men I'd worked with for years, were already standing up and heading for the exits without a word. Their wives followed behind them, heads held high, refusing to even glance in my direction.

The disappointed faces were the worst. People who had trusted me, who had invested their money and their reputations into my company, now looking at me like I'd personally betrayed every single one of them.

I felt like absolute shit.

I grabbed the microphone with both hands and yelled into it. "Turn off the fucking screen! Now! Someone turn it off!"

Sarah finally snapped into action. She ran towards the back of the room, frantically gesturing at someone I couldn't see. A few seconds later, the screen went black.

But the damage was already done.

The whispers turned into full conversations. Phones were still recording. I could already imagine the headlines that would be plastered across every news site and social media platform within the hour.

"Caspian Blackwell caught in affair."

"CEO cheats on wife with her cousin."

"Blackwell Industries scandal exposed."

I stood there on the stage, frozen, the microphone still clutched in my hands. My mind was racing but also completely blank at the same time, like it couldn't process what had just happened.

Then, without another word, I turned and walked off the stage.

Sarah tried to stop me as I passed her. "Mr. Blackwell, wait, we need to address this, we need to make a statement..."

I brushed past her without responding. I couldn't deal with this right now. I couldn't deal with any of it.

I pushed through the side door and into the hallway, ignoring the voices calling after me. My hands were shaking. My chest felt tight.

I made it to my car in the parking garage and slid into the driver's seat and just sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel so hard.

My mind was starting to put things together now.

The masked intruder. The papers I'd been forced to sign. And now this video, released publicly on the most important day of my career.

This wasn't random. This wasn't a random act of violence.

Someone had planned this. Orchestrated every single piece of it.

And there was only one person who had anything to gain from destroying me like this.

Nia.

But that didn't make sense. Nia was timid and quiet. She barely stood up for herself in normal conversations, let alone something like this. There was no way she could have pulled off something this brutal.

Unless I never really knew her at all.

I started the car and pulled out of the parking garage.

The papers. What the hell had I signed that night?

My grip tightened on the wheel.

I needed answers. And there was only one person who might have them.

Jenny.

Nia's only real friend. Her divorce lawyer.

I drove across the city faster than I probably should have, running two red lights and nearly clipping another car as I swerved into the law firm's parking lot.

I parked haphazardly, not even bothering to straighten the car, and got out. My leg was throbbing again, the injury from the gunshot protesting every step, but I ignored it.

I walked through the glass doors of the firm and headed straight for the elevators. The receptionist called out something behind me, probably asking if I had an appointment, but I didn't stop.

Jenny's office was on the third floor. I'd been here once before, months ago, when Nia had asked me to pick her up after a lunch meeting.

The elevator ride felt like it took forever. When the doors finally opened, I stepped out, scanning the nameplates on each door until I found hers.

I didn't knock.

I turned the handle and shoved the door open, hard enough that it slammed against the wall.

Jenny was inside, but she wasn't alone.

She was in the arms of another man, a tall guy in an expensive suit with his hands on her waist. They were kissing, completely oblivious to the world around them until I barged in.

They broke apart immediately. Jenny's eyes went wide, and she let out a string of curses under her breath.

"What the fuck, Caspian?!" she snapped, her face flushing red. She turned to the man beside her, who looked just as startled as she did. "Can you excuse us for a minute? Please?"

The man nodded, straightening his tie and giving me a wary look before slipping past me and out the door. He closed it behind him with a soft click.

Jenny crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at me. "You can't just barge into my office like that. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I didn't have time for pleasantries. "Where the hell is Nia?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. Then she sighed and rolled her eyes, walking over to her desk and leaning against it.

"Seriously? That's what you came here for? To ask me where your wife is?"

"Yes. Where is she?"

"I don't know, Caspian. And honestly, I don't think it's any of your business anymore."

"She's my wife," I shot back, stepping closer. "It's absolutely my business."

Jenny laughed, but there was no humor in it. It was cold. "Your wife? Really? That's rich coming from the guy who's been screwing her cousin for God knows how long."

I clenched my jaw. "Just tell me where she is."

"Why should I? So you can go grovel and beg for forgiveness? So you can manipulate her into staying with you again?"

"I just need to talk to her."

"Well, she doesn't want to talk to you. So leave her alone."

I took another step forward, my voice rising. "You're her only friend, Jenny. You have to know where she is. Just tell me."

Jenny studied my face for a long moment, her expression shifting from annoyance to something else. Suspicion, maybe. Or concern.

"Why are you so desperate to find her all of a sudden?" she asked slowly. "What happened?"

I hesitated, my mind racing. Should I tell her? Would she even help me if I did?

But I didn't have a choice. I needed answers.

"Something happened today," I started, my voice rough. "At the company event. Someone released a video. Footage of me and Isla at the hotel. The night I got shot."

Jenny's eyebrows shot up. "A video?"

"Yes. And before that, I was forced to sign papers. I didn't read them. I couldn't. Someone had a gun to my head and I just signed whatever they put in front of me."

Jenny's expression changed completely. The suspicion melted away, replaced by something that looked almost like realization. Her eyes widened slightly, and she straightened up from where she'd been leaning against the desk.

"Oh," she murmured, more to herself than to me.

"What?" I demanded. "What is it?"

She looked at me, and for the first time since I'd walked in, there was no anger in her eyes, just surprise.

Then she asked, in a voice that was far too calm, "Didn't Nia leave the divorce papers like she planned?”