All Chapters of The Vows We Fake : Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

The moment I opened my phone that morning, I felt the air leave my lungs. The video was everywhere. On every news channel, every social media feed, every breaking news alert that blinked relentlessly from my screen. Zane was in it. Or at least, some version of him. A version meticulously crafted to destroy him. In the footage, he appeared cold, cruel, manipulative. Every glance, every movement, every word had been twisted. Edited. Recontextualized. It was a private moment, one that should have remained behind closed doors, but Leah had turned it into a weapon, and the public devoured it like vultures circling a carcass. I slammed the phone down on the table, my hands shaking, and turned to him. He was staring at the wall across the living room, rigid, jaw clenched, eyes dark pools of fury and pain. He was still dressed from yesterday, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, but he looked like a man trapped in a nightmare, a man who had just watched everything he had fough

The moment Zane left, I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. I pressed myself against the couch, my hands clutching the blanket over my lap, but it offered no comfort. The city lights outside blurred as my mind spun, imagining every scenario, every danger he could be walking into. Leah had escalated everything. She was no longer just a threat to our reputation. Now she had crossed the line. Minutes dragged. Hours felt like days. I tried to focus on my breathing, tried to picture Zane’s steady presence, his unwavering confidence. But the fear gnawed at me from the inside. Every second that passed without a word made my chest tighten. Finally, my phone buzzed. I picked it up, expecting a message from security, from Marcus, anyone. It was Zane. My stomach dropped. I tapped the screen and opened the message. Everything under control. Follow my lead. Nothing more. My heart raced. That was Zane. Always composed, never revealing his plan, always in control. I wanted

My fingers trembled as I swiped to open Sera’s message. Amara, please. Can we talk? I need to speak to Zane but he is not answering. Could you ask him to? I need him. I froze. My pulse spiked. Sera. After everything, after all the betrayal, here she was, sending me a message. I stared at the words, debating whether to respond, whether to throw the phone across the room and pretend I had not seen it. But curiosity and a desire to understand her, to measure what kind of person she had become won. I tapped the reply. I will call you. Wait. My hands shook as the line connected. I took a deep breath before speaking. “Sera. You… why are you calling me? After everything?” My voice was calmer than I felt. “I know,” she whispered immediately. Her tone was subdued, almost tentative. “I know I have no right to reach out. I know I hurt you. I… I just wanted to speak to Zane for weeks now but he has not responded. I thought… maybe if you asked him, he might consider it.” I closed my eyes for

The morning sunlight barely pierced the curtains as I sat on the edge of the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket. My phone buzzed incessantly, and I had learned not to trust its relentless interruptions. Each notification seemed to carry a new storm, a new reminder that Leah’s campaign was alive and vicious. Social media had erupted overnight. Threads and posts painted me as reckless, deceitful, and manipulative. Comments twisted every rumor, every half-truth into a weapon. Every headline screamed my failures, my sins, my alleged betrayals. I felt the walls of our apartment closing in from the weight of public judgment. Zane stood behind me, hands crossed over his chest, a dark presence against the pale morning light. I could feel his tension radiating toward me. He had spent the past twenty-four hours monitoring the fallout, coordinating our security, and ensuring no one could reach me physically, but even he could not control the chaos of the world outside. “Amara,” he said softly, c

The night air felt electric as I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. The lights of the event hall dazzled me, the flash of cameras already relentless, and my heart beat a careful rhythm, steady but fierce. I could hear the murmurs before I even saw her. Leah. She stood at the podium, glowing under the spotlight, her poise perfect, her smile sharp and predatory. The crowd surrounding her hung on every gesture, every flick of her hair. They wanted blood, and she was eager to deliver. I straightened my shoulders, adjusting my dress, feeling the weight of every eye on me. The whispers tried to cut through me, labeling me with words they thought would hurt. But I had learned a long time ago that surviving meant keeping your focus, keeping your fire under control until the right moment. I could feel Zane at the back of the hall, his eyes on me, his presence steady and grounding even from a distance. I drew a deep breath and let it settle my nerves. Leah’