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Chapter 13 — A Question Asked Right
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2025-12-14 13:33:03
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Until You Chapter 16 — The Quiet Heiress
Layla's Point of ViewThe kettle clicked off behind me, the sound too loud in the quiet. I stared at the steam curling upward, thinking how easily heat disappeared when left alone too long.Two days after the video storm, I'd convinced myself the worst was over. The internet had moved on to a new scandal or newer heartbreak, and the silence felt almost merciful. I made tea, opened the curtains, and let the morning light spill across the kitchen floor. For a minute, I believed I could breathe again.I'd grown used to seeing my name in headlines I didn't recognise, paired with photographs I didn't remember being taken. But this one stopped me cold.The words glared up from my phone screen, black on white, bold enough to punch the breath from my lungs. It wasn't the headline itself; it was the finality of it. Someone, somewhere, had decided to tell the story I'd buried. And now it belonged to everyone.
Until You Chapter 15 — The Internet Dig
Rider's Point of ViewThe first ripple came through my phone at dawn, waking me.Most mornings started the same way now. Quiet, steady, a ritual of order before the world demanded noise. I'd wake thinking of her before my feet hit the floor, a reflex I'd stopped trying to hide from myself.I still wasn't used to the word fiancée. Not because it scared me, but because it felt like it belonged to a different kind of man. A man who hadn't spent years turning everything into strategy. Layla had changed that. She'd changed me.The house still smelled faintly of her shampoo, jasmine, clean and warm, from when she'd stayed over two nights earlier. It made the quiet feel less empty, more like waiting.And so, this morning had started like any other, quiet, deliberate, the house still wrapped in dawn—the smell of coffee, the low hum of the espresso machine.I'd been ha
Until You Chapter 14 — Headline Hearts
Layla's Point of ViewIt started with a single photograph.We'd gone for a walk along the harbour the day after I said yes. The sun was low, painting the water in streaks of copper and gold, the ring still strange and new on my finger. Rider reached for my hand as we paused by the rail, a quiet, unremarkable gesture.The camera shutter snapped from somewhere behind us. I hadn't even noticed.By morning, the photo was everywhere.I didn't breathe at first. Just sat there in bed with the screen glowing against my knees, the image of us repeating on every site like a reflection I couldn't escape. The photo was almost gentle with Rider's hand around mine, and the sunlight on the water. The captions turned it into a theatre.My phone kept buzzing on the nightstand. Someone tagged me in a post, then another. The comment sections bled together.He's tra
Until You Chapter 13 — A Question Asked Right
Rider's Point of ViewSome moments don't need an audience.I'd built an empire on spectacle with press releases, galas, and launches. I'd asked my ex-wife to marry me under a chandelier, with cameras. The champagne had cost more than my first car. She'd smiled for the photographers before she'd smiled at me.Back then, I thought love needed proof. Now, I knew better. Love didn't need an audience, only presence. The right question asked in quiet meant more than any diamond paraded before a crowd.I used to mistake admiration for affection. Julia had loved the way I fit into her world. I was polished, predictable, and profitable.We'd looked perfect on paper. Two careers, two smiles, one headline-worthy marriage. But behind closed doors, our conversations were measured in transactions; in who hosted what, who impressed whom, and who was owed for each sacrifice.With Layla, s
Until You Chapter 12 — The Soft Pursuit — Building Back a Spine
Rider's Point of ViewBusiness had always been about strategy. Timing, precision, patience. Push too hard, and you risk losing the deal; wait too long, and the opportunity will slip away.It turned out the same was true with people. With Layla.It had been nearly three weeks since that night at her kitchen table. Enough time for the bruises beneath her calm to fade from purple to pale.According to the members of my security department whom I had assigned to watch Layla, she'd returned to work, answered calls, and even smiled in meetings. It wasn't genuine; instead, it was the kind of smile people wear when they're learning how to just be again.I told myself it was precautionary. Mason called it due diligence; I called it peace of mind.It had taken a feat of mental gymnastics to persuade Layla to accept a bodyguard or three, following her everywhere she went.
Until You Chapter 11 — Love, Measured in Receipts
🌿 Dan's Point of ViewMoney has a way of sharpening every conversation.It wasn't love, Lillie and I were counting on anymore. It was receipts.Rent. Groceries. Utilities. She insisted on buying the bottle of cheap wine twice a week because she couldn't live without "a little luxury." Every slip of paper became an accusation, every total a reminder of how far I'd fallen.I started keeping them all in a drawer, maybe out of habit, perhaps punishment. Thin white ghosts of my decisions. Sometimes, late at night, I'd pull them out and line them up by date, watching the numbers shrink. Not just my account balance, but what I was worth in her eyes.Lillie never looked at them twice. To her, money was oxygen. You didn't thank it; you just expected it to be there.I used to come home to a house where bills were paid on time and the fridge was full because Layla had thought ahead, planned, and cared. The house was immaculate, even though Layla was working. I'd taken it for granted. So much so
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