Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Substitute Bride's Revenge : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

ARIAI come to in pieces, like someone slowly putting together a broken puzzle.Random sensations filter through the fog in my brain and the sunlight stream through partially closed blinds creating patterns across a familiar ceiling. Golden bars that shift and dance with the gentle movement of tree branches outside my window.I realize I’m in my own apartment.How did I get here?Disorientation hits me first then fragmented memories of the previous night float through my mind. Xavier's cold smile as he handed me the champagne. The gradual numbness spreading through my limbs. The hotel room. The stranger that almost raped me. The mysterious rescuer in the dark hoodie.The familiar scent of my lavender linen spray provides momentary comfort before reality crashes back. I realize I'm still fully clothed in my now-rumpled outfit. However, someone has removed my shoes, placing them neatly at the foot of the bed.My mouth feels desert-dry, and tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.My hea

ARIAMy phone starts buzzing at 5:17 AM with text messages, email notifications, news alerts, and voicemails arriving in such rapid succession the device nearly vibrates off my nightstand.The intrusion jolts me from uneasy sleep with my hand fumbling in the darkness to silence the persistent noise.Fifteen missed calls. Twenty-seven text messages. Forty-three emails. Ninety-eight news alerts.Something has happened.The first text comes from Dave: "Call immediately. Media situation developing."The second from Felicia: "Don't check social media. Coming to your apartment. Don't speak to anyone."The third from Michael: "Stay indoors and away from social media.”My stomach drops as I open a news alert from the Business Chronicle: "Harrington Consolidated Executive Aria Harrington in Late-Night Hotel Scandal."The accompanying photo shows me entering The Luxes Suite with a man’s hand possessively placed on my lower back. The timestamp indicates it was taken the night I was drugged.My ex

ARIAThe words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.Around the table, some board members nod slightly, others stay silent.Xavier’s trap is set, and now it’s up to me to figure out how to dismantle it without blowing everything up in the process."This is ridiculous," I declare, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I've given 10 months of my life to this company. My division has increased profitability by thirty-eight percent. The innovation pipeline I built has created three patent-pending technologies. And now you're telling me I'm being suspended because of some fake photos?"Xavier shakes his head, putting on his usual show of fake sympathy. "This isn't about your work, Aria. It's about judgment and trust. Leadership requires both."From the corner of my eye, I catch Vivian shifting in her seat beside Xavier. Her manicured fingers tap the polished mahogany table, drawing attention the way she's been trained to do since childhood."If I may," Vivian interjects in a voice drippin

ARIAThe next morning brings another headline, and it’s a gut punch.I stare at my laptop screen, my stomach sinking lower with every word. The Main Street Journal headline screams in bold letters: "Harrington Executive Suspected of Corporate Espionage." My name is right there in the first paragraph.The article lays out emails allegedly sent from my company account to three major competitors, offering confidential information about Harrington’s expansion plans in exchange for future job opportunities.And right beneath the headlines is Harrington Consolidated’s official statement declaring they won’t pursue legal action against me for allegedly committing a criminal act against the company, citing my personal connection to their current CEO, Xavier Harrington. However, if I keep "damaging the company’s reputation," their leniency ends."This can’t be happening," I whisper into the empty silence of my apartment.My phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since the story broke two hours ago. Dave

ARIAFelicia's call jolts me awake this morning, cutting through the haze of the two hours of sleep I managed to grab.She's been away on a business trip and so has Dave. It feels too convenient, like someone orchestrated their absence to keep them from helping me.Felicia's tone is brisk but concerned. "I'm sending someone to assist with the investigation. He's one of the best, Aria. Trust him."My doorbell rings barely an hour later. The man standing there isn't what I expected.Samuel Hayes doesn't look like a private investigator from the movies. No rumpled trench coat, no cigarette dangling from his lips, no world-weary scowl. Instead, he's neatly dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and khakis, carrying a leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder.He looks more like a college professor than someone who digs up secrets for a living."Felicia speaks highly of you," he remarks, stepping inside with a firm handshake. His voice is calm, measured. "She mentioned your situation req