All Chapters of When Love Turns into Betrayal : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Victoria's publicist had released a follow-up statement. I almost didn't read it.Mrs. Brooks would like to clarify that her comments about Ms. Carter came from a place of concern and love. She hopes for reconciliation and healing for all parties involved.Reconciliation. Like this was some family squabble. Like Layla hadn't destroyed my marriage and Victoria hadn't just tried to destroy my reputation on national television.I deleted the notification.But I couldn't delete the damage. It was already out there, spreading, mutating, becoming its own truth in the court of public opinion.And somewhere, Victoria was probably smiling.Certain she'd won this round.The pen felt heavy in my hand, heavier than it should have been for something made of plastic and ink.Marcus slid the papers across his desk, seven months of legal warfare condensed into forty-three pages. Settlement agreement. Asset division. The official dissolution of a marriage that had died long before the paperwork caught

Liam called the meeting for eight o'clock on a Tuesday morning, formal and professional in a way that made my stomach twist."Knight Ventures conference room," his assistant had said. "Mr. Knight requests your presence for a business proposal."Mr. Knight. Not Liam. Not the man who'd held me while I cried over my divorce papers. The CEO with a proposition.I showed up in my best suit, armor firmly in place.The conference room was all glass and steel, overlooking Manhattan like we owned it. Liam stood at the head of the table in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my first car, and for a second I didn't recognize him. This wasn't the man who brought me coffee. This was the billionaire venture capitalist who'd built an empire before thirty-five."Violet." He gestured to a chair. "Thank you for coming."So formal. So careful.I sat down, crossed my legs, kept my expression neutral. "Your assistant said you had a proposal.""I do." He slid a leather portfolio across the table. E

The truth always comes from the people you've already forgotten exist.I'm staring at my laptop screen, re-reading the anonymous email for the hundredth time this week, when my office door opens without a knock. I don't look up. Harper's the only one who does that."You need to eat something," she says. "You look like hell.""Thanks." I keep my eyes on the screen. The words blur together. Get out while you still can. "Really boosting my confidence here.""Violet." Her voice shifts, gets that edge that means she's about to say something I won't like. "It's been three days. You can't just sit here obsessing over some cryptic email from a stranger.""What if it's not a stranger?" I finally look at her. She's holding a paper bag from the deli downstairs, probably a sandwich I won't eat. "What if whoever sent this actually knows something we need?"Harper sets the bag on my desk, moves a stack of contracts to sit on the edge. "Then they should've said it instead of playing mystery messenge

I want to say yes. Want to know every detail, want to catch Layla in a lie, want proof that she's as manipulative as I think she is.But something stops me."No." The word surprises me as much as it does them. "No, let it go.""Violet’s ...""I mean it." I look at both of them. "If Layla lost a baby, whether by choice or by chance, that's her business. And if she's lying about it, if this is all some elaborate sympathy play, then she's even more pathetic than I thought. Either way, I'm not doing this.""Doing what?" Harper asks carefully."Becoming someone who investigates someone else's pregnancy loss to use it against them." I feel something shift in my chest, something that's been wound tight for months starting to loosen. "I'm not that person. I won't be that person. Not even for Ethan. Not even for this."Jordan and Harper exchange a look I can't quite read."You sure?" Jordan asks. "Because if this is part of a bigger play, if they're trying to manipulate the trial or public opi

Harper shows up at my door Sunday morning with coffee and bagels and a hickey on her neck she's trying very badly to hide with a scarf."Nice scarf," I say, letting her in. "It's seventy degrees outside.""Shut up." But she's smiling, and I haven't seen her smile like that in months. Maybe years. "I brought sustenance. You need to eat something before tomorrow.""I need to know who gave you that hickey more than I need food." I take the coffee anyway, follow her to my living room. "Spill. Now."She sits on my couch, pulls off the scarf with a dramatic sigh. The mark is right there on her collarbone, dark purple and definitely fresh."It's nothing. It's stupid. It's probably a terrible idea and I shouldn't even be telling you the day before you testify because you need to focus and this is so not important compared to...""Harper." I cut her off. "You're babbling. You never babble. Who is it?"She looks at me, and her face does this thing. This soft, vulnerable thing I've never seen be