The Billionaire's Regret
“I… I don’t have an explanation that will make this look right. I swear, Alexander, I—”
“You swear,” he repeated, the words like stones dropping into a pool of tension. “Swear until your voice is hoarse. But the images…” He gestured toward the folder, which now sat ominously on the desk. “…they don’t lie.”
I closed my eyes briefly, fighting the urge to collapse. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to throw myself across the city skyline and disappear.
Instead, I forced a calm that felt like ice running through my veins. “They’re lies,” I said steadily, opening my eyes. “Twisted lies. Someone wants to make me look like… like something I’m not.”