All Chapters of Shattered promises: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The first time Alina met Nathan, the world seemed to pause for her. He had that rare kind of smile — soft, sure, practiced — the kind that promised safety to someone who didn’t realize how much she needed it.It was a rainy Thursday, and she had just spilled coffee over a stack of client files. He’d appeared beside her like a scene from a movie, offering a napkin and an easy joke that made her laugh despite herself. That’s how it began: with warmth, timing, and a little too much charm.Nathan was everything she thought she wanted — confident without being overbearing, successful but humble, attentive in a way that felt almost unreal. He listened when she spoke, remembered small details, texted her good morning before she even woke up. Her friends told her he was perfect. Her mother said she’d finally found a man who could love her the way she deserved.And for a while, Alina believed them all.She had always been the caretaker, the one who fixed everyone else’s problems. With Nathan,

For the next few days, Alina lived inside a performance.Every breath, every smile, every word she spoke was rehearsed — a role she played for survival. Nathan believed her. He always did. He mistook fear for devotion, silence for obedience.That was his weakness.Alina had learned that power didn’t always roar. Sometimes, it whispered. Sometimes, it waited.She spent her mornings the way he liked — cooking breakfast, listening to him talk about work, nodding at the right moments. He didn’t notice that her eyes no longer followed his hands, that her mind was somewhere else.When he left for the office, she moved fast.She took photos of the laptop screen with her phone, every file, every message. She printed copies at the library two streets over, hiding them beneath a loose tile in the bathroom there. She even began building a timeline — dates, patterns, places — proof that Nathan’s charm was his weapon, and his victims were not accidents.Each discovery was a knife in her chest. But

The hotel lobby hummed with quiet luxury — the steady rhythm of voices, the faint scent of coffee and polished wood. Alina sat at one of the tables near the window, her hands wrapped around a cup she hadn’t touched. Nathan was upstairs, getting ready for the final day of his conference, and she was trying not to think about the message she’d sent the day before.She hadn’t received a reply.Maybe it was too soon. Maybe the detective hadn’t seen it yet. Or maybe the evidence wasn’t enough.The uncertainty sat like a stone in her stomach.She checked her phone again — still nothing.“Waiting for someone?” a voice asked.She looked up to see a woman in her mid-forties, well-dressed but with the weary look of someone who’d seen too much. Her ID badge read Detective Elise Ward.Alina froze.The woman gave a small, knowing smile. “Relax. I’m here because of your message. You did the right thing contacting me.”Alina’s pulse quickened. “How did you find me?”“Anonymous emails aren’t as anony

The morning news spread across the city like wildfire.“Tech Executive Under Investigation for Misconduct.”Nathan’s face filled the screen — smiling, confident, the same expression he’d used to convince the world he was good.Alina sat at the small kitchen table in the safehouse, staring at the television. Her tea had gone cold hours ago.Detective Elise had warned her that the story would leak eventually. Still, seeing his name in print, hearing the anchors discuss “disturbing evidence” and “multiple victims,” made it real in a way she wasn’t ready for.She muted the volume. Silence filled the room again.By noon, her phone buzzed — a secure message from Elise.He’s denying everything. He’s using his PR team to paint you as unstable. Stay quiet for now. We’ll handle the legal side.Alina’s chest tightened. Unstable.The word burned. That was always Nathan’s favorite weapon — doubt.He’d told her she was overreacting, that her memory was bad, that she was too emotional to see the tru

The courthouse steps were crowded now.Cameras, journalists, onlookers — a wave of voices that rose every time a door opened.For days, the headlines had been relentless:“More Women Step Forward Against Nathan Clarke.”“Corporate Icon Faces Allegations of Abuse and Coercion.”Each name that surfaced chipped away at the illusion Nathan had built.Each testimony made the truth harder to bury.Alina stood just inside the courthouse doors, watching the chaos through the glass. She wasn’t alone anymore.Three other women waited with her — strangers once, now bound by something deeper than friendship: the shared wound of survival.One of them, a quiet brunette named Sophie, glanced at her nervously. “Do you ever stop shaking?”Alina smiled softly. “Eventually. The fear doesn’t disappear — it just becomes part of the armor.”Sophie nodded, gripping her notebook tighter. “I wish I’d come forward sooner.”“We all wish that,” Alina said. “But what matters is we’re here now.”Inside the courtro