Semua Bab Burning Desire: A Tale of Love and Betrayal : Bab 41 - Bab 50

Jacqueline’s POV Allison and I had been sprawled on her couch for hours, pretending to care about the romantic book review playing on TV. The set was drenched in soft gold lighting, all pastel backdrops and floating petals in the corners of the screen. A poised host with hair so perfectly coiffed it looked like a helmet was dramatically reading out a passage about “the moment two souls recognized each other in the quiet of chaos,” while her co-host nodded with exaggerated solemnity, as if they’d both just witnessed a miracle. Allison, of course, was tearing into it with sarcastic commentary, pointing out that the “two souls” probably just needed therapy and a cup of coffee.I was halfway through rolling my eyes when my phone erupted with my blaring alarm tone, the one I set for the things I’d rather forget.Compulsory leave ends tomorrow.I groaned, silencing it like it had personally insulted me. My chest tightened, not because I hated my job, well, maybe a little right now, but b

Jacqueline’s POVIt was ten o’clock, and I was still tossing beneath the sheets, begging for sleep that refused to come. My phone chimed, the screen glowing in the dark.A message. From an unknown number.I opened it, my chest tightening with unease. It wasn’t words, it was a download. Against my better judgment, I clicked.The file appeared with bold, black letters stamped across the screen:“Calvin – Vintype Blog.”My breath caught.I stared at it, my mind racing, but before I could fully process, the file blinked out of existence. A one-time view. No proof. No second chance to look closer.Did I imagine it? Was someone playing games?I sat up, clutching the phone like it could explain itself. Vintype Blog. The very blog that had smeared my name, that knew too much, that kept feeding on my life like vultures.And Calvin’s name attached to it? No. Impossible. He was the one person who stood by me, who defended me when no one else did. My rock. My safe place.I shook my head. This had

Jacqueline’s POVThe media didn’t sleep. Neither did I.By morning, my name was splattered across every headline like blood on glass.Phoenix Accountant Caught in Judge’s Web.Affair or Ambition? The Jacqueline McCall Story.My hands trembled as I scrolled. They weren’t just attacking my work, they were dissecting my life, my choices, my worth. The blog was everywhere, feeding the fire, and though I hadn’t seen his face behind the words, his shadow loomed larger than ever.I wanted to scream, to fight, but my throat felt tight, as though the whole city was pressing down on it.“Breathe, Jacqueline,” I whispered to myself, but the words sounded foreign.I wasn’t sure how much longer I could.The doorbell rang.I froze. Reporters? Another delivery with some cruel headline attached? I wasn’t ready for more knives.But when I opened the door, it wasn’t the press. It was him.Blackwood.Still in his suit, still carrying that dark weight in his eyes, like he’d walked through fire to get her

Blackwood’s POVI hated silence. Not the courtroom kind, not the silence that bends under the weight of authority, that I controlled. This silence was different. It was Jacqueline’s silence.Every time I called, she let it ring out. Every message, left to read. Every attempt to catch her after work was met with that same wall of cool indifference. She wasn’t screaming at me, wasn’t crying, wasn’t even fighting me. She was just… gone.And somehow, that was worse.I’d seen that look in her eyes before she turned her back on me, that mixture of disappointment and steel. She thought she was protecting herself. But damn it, she didn’t understand that she was tearing me apart by shutting me out.So I did something I never thought I’d do.I called Allison.When she picked up, there was a long pause before she said, “Wow. The great Judge Blackwood dialed me personally. Should I be flattered or worried?”“Allison,” I said, running a hand over my jaw, “this isn’t about me. It’s about Jacqueline

Jacqueline’s POV The food Allison brought sat half-eaten between us, but at least it filled the silence. After she left, I thought I’d finally have a moment to breathe.I was wrong.My phone buzzed, Derek’s name flashing across the screen.I hesitated before answering. “Hello?”“Jacqueline.” His voice was clipped, not unkind, but too steady, like someone carefully walking a line. “We need to talk. In person.”Something in his tone made my stomach twist. But I agreed, if only because avoiding him would cause more suspicion.We met at one of Phoenix’s quiet project sites. Empty, save for a few late-night workers in the distance. Derek was waiting by the railing, his posture as rigid as steel, his smile too polished to reach his eyes.“You look tired,” he said, scanning me in the way he always did, like he was assessing a problem on-site, not a person.“I’ve had better weeks,” I replied, folding my arms.He nodded slowly, as if he already knew what I would say. Then he leaned forward, l