Chapter 19

Monday morning arrived with a vengeance.

I woke to my phone buzzing incessantly, notifications piling up so fast the device actually felt warm in my hand. Beside me, Christopher's phone was doing the same, both of us jolted from sleep by the sudden onslaught.

"What now?" I muttered, squinting at the screen through bleary eyes.

Then I saw the headline trending across every news site and social media platform, and my blood ran cold.

"Victoria Ashford Claims Christopher Zane's Marriage is a Sham to Cover Business Scandal."

My hands shook as I opened the article, Christopher sitting up beside me, his own phone in hand, his expression darkening with each word he read.

Victoria had given an exclusive interview to a tabloid, timed perfectly to air the day after ours. In it, she claimed to have "insider knowledge" that Christopher had married me to distract from alleged financial irregularities at Zane Enterprises. She suggested the timing of our marriage, right before a major merger, was suspicious. She implied I was either complicit in the scheme or a naive pawn being used.

"This is insane," I breathed, scrolling through the article. "She's accusing you of financial crimes with absolutely no evidence."

Christopher's jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. "She's desperate. The interview made her look petty and jealous, so now she's escalating."

My phone rang—Diana's name flashing on the screen.

"Tell me you're seeing this," Diana said the moment I answered, her voice tense.

"We're seeing it," I confirmed, putting her on speaker so Christopher could hear.

"Victoria's claims are baseless, but they're being taken seriously because she's positioning herself as a concerned whistleblower. The SEC is already getting inquiries about whether they should investigate Zane Enterprises." Diana's tone turned grim. "This is bad, you two. Really bad."

Christopher took the phone. "What's our move?"

"Complete transparency. We open our books to scrutiny, prove there's nothing to hide. We have our legal team draft a cease and desist for Victoria, threaten her with defamation charges if she continues making false accusations. And we prepare a statement categorically denying her claims with evidence to back it up." Diana paused. "This is going to dominate the news cycle for days, possibly weeks. Are you both prepared for that?"

"We don't have a choice," Christopher said flatly. "Do whatever needs to be done."

After hanging up, Christopher immediately started making calls—to his lawyers, his CFO, his board of directors. I listened to him explain the situation over and over, his voice controlled but with an underlying current of fury I'd rarely heard before.

Victoria had crossed a line. This wasn't just about us anymore—she was attacking his company, his reputation, everything he'd built.

I made coffee while Christopher paced the living room, phone pressed to his ear. When I brought him a cup, he mouthed "thank you" but didn't stop talking, already deep into crisis management mode.

My own phone buzzed with a call from Claire.

"Have you seen the news?" she asked without preamble.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Ana, there are reporters outside the bookstore again. Like, a lot of them. They're asking customers if they think you knew about the supposed financial crimes, whether the bookstore is a money laundering front." Claire sounded frantic. "This is getting out of control."

"Money laundering?" I repeated incredulously. "The bookstore barely turns a profit most months."

"I know that, but they're spinning everything into some grand conspiracy theory. I think you should stay away today. Let security handle the crowd until things calm down."

"I'm not going to hide," I said, even though the idea of facing reporters again made my stomach churn. "That just makes us look guilty."

"Ana—"

"I'll be there in an hour," I said firmly. "Thank you for handling things, Claire. I owe you."

After hanging up, I found Christopher ending his own call, his expression exhausted despite it being barely eight in the morning.

"Victoria's lawyers sent a statement," he said, showing me his phone. "She's doubling down, saying she has documents proving financial irregularities. She's threatening to release them if we sue her for defamation."

"Does she actually have documents?" I asked, anxiety spiking.

"No. Because there are no irregularities. She's bluffing, hoping we'll back down to avoid prolonged legal battles and negative press." Christopher's eyes were hard. "But I'm not backing down. Not this time."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm calling her bluff. My lawyers are preparing a lawsuit for defamation, and we're inviting an independent audit of Zane Enterprises to prove there's nothing to hide." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. "This is going to be expensive and time-consuming and completely unnecessary, but it's the only way to definitively shut down her accusations."

"I'm going to the bookstore," I said, making my own decision. "Claire says reporters are camped outside. I need to face this, show we're not running scared."

Christopher looked like he wanted to argue, then nodded slowly. "I'll have security follow you. And Anastasia? Don't engage with reporters. Just go inside and let security handle crowd control."

"I know the drill by now," I said wryly.

An hour later, I stood outside Chapter & Verse Books, staring at the crowd of reporters and cameras blocking the entrance. Security had already formed a barrier, but the journalists were shouting questions anyway, desperate for a comment.

"Anastasia, did you know about the financial crimes?"

"Is your marriage legitimate or a business arrangement?"

"How do you respond to Victoria Ashford's accusations?"

I kept my head down and pushed through, security clearing a path. Once inside, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, my heart racing.

Claire appeared immediately, pulling me into a hug. "You okay?"

"Define okay," I muttered.

We spent the morning trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, helping the few brave customers who ventured past the media circus. But it was impossible to focus with cameras pointed at the windows and reporters shouting questions every time someone entered or left.

Around noon, my phone rang with an unknown number. I almost didn't answer, but something made me pick up.

"Anastasia Reed?" An unfamiliar woman's voice.

"Speaking."

"My name is Jennifer Matthews. I'm a reporter with the Financial Times. I'd like to give you an opportunity to respond to Victoria Ashford's allegations."

"I'm not interested in giving interviews right now," I said, already preparing to hang up.

"Ms. Ashford is claiming she has evidence of financial wrongdoing at Zane Enterprises. She's suggesting your marriage was arranged to provide cover during a difficult merger. Don't you want to defend yourself?"

"My husband and I already gave an interview explaining our relationship," I said tightly. "Victoria Ashford is making baseless accusations because she can't accept that Christopher moved on. There's nothing else to say."

"So you're denying any knowledge of financial irregularities?"

"I'm saying there are no financial irregularities. Zane Enterprises is inviting an independent audit to prove exactly that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a business to run."

I hung up, my hands shaking with anger and frustration.

This was Victoria's strategy—create enough smoke that people assumed there must be fire. Keep the story alive with vague insinuations and promises of evidence that didn't exist. Force us to constantly defend ourselves against accusations that had no basis in reality.

It was effective, and it was exhausting.

By closing time, I was emotionally drained. The constant vigilance, the reporters, the stress of knowing every word I said could be twisted and used against us—it was taking its toll.

Christopher picked me up personally, his own day clearly having been equally brutal. We drove home in silence, both too tired to process everything that had happened.

"Diana called," Christopher said as we stepped into the apartment. "The independent audit is being arranged. It'll take a few weeks, but it will definitively prove Victoria is lying."

"A few weeks," I repeated hollowly. "We have to deal with this for weeks?"

"Probably longer. Even after the audit clears us, some people will still believe the accusations. Conspiracy theories have a way of persisting despite evidence." Christopher pulled me close, his embrace tight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you're going through this because of me."

"This isn't your fault," I said firmly, pulling back to look at him. "This is Victoria being vindictive and cruel. You're not responsible for her actions."

"But you're suffering the consequences anyway." His voice was rough with emotion. "You didn't sign up for this when you married me. You thought you were getting a private arrangement, not a media circus and false accusations."

"I signed up for you," I corrected. "Whatever comes with that, we handle together. Remember?"

Christopher's expression softened, and he kissed my forehead gently. "I don't deserve you."

"You're stuck with me anyway," I said, trying for levity.

We ordered dinner but barely ate, both of us too stressed to have much appetite. I tried to watch TV but couldn't focus, my mind constantly circling back to Victoria's accusations and the looming weeks of scrutiny ahead.

Around nine, Eleanor called.

"I just saw the news," she said without preamble. "That woman is out of control."

"Hello to you too, Grandma," I said, managing a weak smile despite everything.

"Victoria Ashford is making a mockery of my family and our name," Eleanor continued, anger sharpening her usually warm tone. "I'm calling in some favors. She won't be welcomed at any society events after this. She'll be persona non grata in every circle that matters."

"Eleanor, you don't have to do that," I protested, though part of me was grateful.

"Yes, I do. She's attacking my grandson and my granddaughter-in-law with lies. There are consequences for that behavior, and she's about to learn what they are." Eleanor's voice softened. "How are you holding up, dear?"

"I've been better," I admitted. "It's hard, knowing people think we're criminals or con artists or whatever else Victoria is implying."

"People who matter know the truth. Everyone else is just gossip and noise." Eleanor paused. "Christopher is lucky to have you. You're stronger than Victoria ever was, even if she'll never admit it."

After we hung up, I felt marginally better. Eleanor's fierce protectiveness reminded me that we weren't alone in this fight.

Christopher appeared with two glasses of wine, handing me one before sitting beside me on the couch.

"To surviving another day," he said, raising his glass.

"To many more days of survival," I countered, clinking my glass against his.

We drank in silence, the city lights twinkling beyond our windows, and I let myself lean against Christopher's solid warmth.

"We're going to get through this," I said, more to convince myself than him.

"We are," Christopher agreed, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. "And when we do, Victoria is going to regret ever starting this war."

There was steel in his voice, a determination that reminded me Christopher Zane didn't become one of the most powerful CEOs in New York by being soft or forgiving.

Victoria had pushed too far, and now she was going to face the consequences.

I just hoped we could survive the fallout in the meantime.

That night, as I lay in bed unable to sleep, Christopher held me close and whispered promises into the darkness.

That we'd prove Victoria wrong.

That our reputation would recover.

That everything would be okay.

And even though I wasn't sure I believed him, I held onto those promises like a lifeline.

Because sometimes hope was all you had when the world was trying to tear you apart.