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Chapter 46
Rose point of view
I stared at my phone screen until the words blurred, reading the same headline for the twentieth time. "ROSE LEWIS: THE PRIVATE LIFE SHE DIDN'T WANT YOU TO SEE” Beneath it, that grainy photo of me How? How had anyone found this? I'd been so careful.
My boutique office, normally my sanctuary, felt suffocating now. Outside, I could hear my staff whispering, their usual respectful silence replaced by urgent murmurs. They'd seen the stories. Everyone had.
Three major fashion sites had dropped my spring collection Five influencers had canceled promotional contracts. Two department stores had "postponed" their orders. All within twenty- four hours.
My empire, built so carefully brick by brick, was crumbling beneath my feet.
The phone on my desk rang again. My publicity team, no doubt, with another useless strategy. I'd already released three statements, first denying everything, then suggesting the photos were manipulated, final I ignored the call, returning to my social media feeds. The comments cut like knives.
"Always knew she was fake."
"Poor Camille, no wonder she drove into that river."
"#RoseThoms is right beautiful but toxic!"
Tears stung my eyes. Not from shame, I'd never felt shame for taking what I wanted, but from rage. I'd spent years crafting the perfect image. The talented designer. The grieving sister. The devoted fiancée. All stolen moment captured on film.
The office door banged open. Stefan stood there, still wearing his work suit, face thunderous. He held his phone in a white-
knuckled grip.
"When were you going to tell me?" His voice was dangerously quiet.
I stood, smoothing my skirt, forcing my face into concerned lines. "Stefan, darling. I've been
trying to reach you all day. These rumors are....”
"Not rumors." He stepped inside, slamming the door behind him. "Facts. With photographic evidence."
"It was years ago. Before us. Before..."
“Before us?” He laughed, a harsh sound I'd never heard from him. "According to the date on this photo, you were sleeping with your mentor's husband three weeks after I married your sister."
Ice slid down my spine. I hadn't noticed the timestamp. Hadn't thought anyone would look that closely.
"It wasn't serious," I tried, moving toward him. "A mistake One night that meant nothing."
touch. "And the others? Lord Hartley?
knew about Anton too?
I demanded,
destroy what we have?"
fix it. "What exactly do we have, Rose? A relationship built on our manipulation of Camille? A future "I never lied to you," I insisted. "I just didn't share every detail of
He stared at me like he'd never
were during your 'year in Paris'? Because according to these new photos, you spent six months on
raced, calculating damage, planning counterattacks. Who was doing
what it looks like," I said, falling back on the most
voice had gone flat. "Nothing's ever what it looks like. Not your
from London just when our marriage was struggling.
I hissed, genuine anger flaring.
"Because keep remembering your face that night. When they told us her car went off that bridge. You didn't look surprised,
absurd. Grief affects people
Stefan said slowly, "is that I'm beginning to wonder
opened again before I could respond.
eyes red- rimmed,
voice, usually
cold. "We need to
office now, the walls closing in. I'd faced criticism before, weathered
you can see.
said, desperation leaking into my voice. "I'm
while you were studying? Is that what you call lying about where you were during your 'fashi laugh
you were
eyes cut deeper than my parents' disappointment. He truly had been waiting for me, just as I'd planned. But now be knew I hadn't been
and you were on some Russian's yacht? In some lord worst husband imaginable to your sister while you were
the office thinking about you, missing bed?" His voice broke
having fun?"
strongest advocate, always taken my side against Camille, against anyone who challenged me.
who would
photos are being taken out of
phone, cach swipe revealing another damning image. Me with Jonathan at a private dinner. Me with Lord
drawing myself up. "Cholces men make
Paris while lounging on criminal yachts,"
while claiming to be
united front stunned me. My parents had never confronted me this way,
mother's question sliced through my shock. "Because the daughter we thought we knew
blood! The daughter you let get away with everything because she was so special, so tal My voice had risen to a shout, years of resentment fueling my words. Yes,
"My reputation?" I grabbed a vase from my desk, hurling it against the wall. Water and flowers sprayed across my design sketches, ruining weeks of work. "My entire career is being dismantled by these stories, Stefan moved between me and my
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