Chapter 4

I barely touched my breakfast, and now my stomach churned violently on the way to the shoot.

By the time we arrived, nausea clawed at my throat. I stumbled out of the car, leaning against it, gulping in fresh air in an attempt to settle the sickness.

Meanwhile, Atlas was carefully lifting the hem of Ivy’s gown, his head slightly bowed as he guided her into the

studio with the utmost care.

I watched in silence.

The man who once promised to cherish me–who used to hold my hand so protectively–was now treating another woman as though she were the most precious thing in the world.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, swallowing back the bitter taste in my mouth.

“Celeste,” Atlas called out to me, his voice laced with frustration. “The shoot is about to start. Be nice–just do your job. This is important for both Ivy and Whitmore Industries.”

Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. I stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.

Pain flared up my arm, but Atlas had already turned away, his attention elsewhere, as if I were nothing more than a reluctant participant in his carefully orchestrated world.

It had been five years since I last held a camera. Now, as I raised it, my hands trembled.

Fear gripped me, a cold and suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. But I forced myself to push through it.

Click

With each shutter press, I fought against the flood of emotions threatening to drown me.

Grief.

Rage.

Betrayal.

camera a desperate attempt to hold

She scrolled through the

her voice

Celeste,” she said, her words laced with venom. “Pathetic. A failure. No matter

06:50

of Love, Seven

68.1%

Chapter 4

try, you’ll never be

nails dug into my

body trembling as white

And then-

*Slap.*

cheek, leaving

wrist, shaking off the impact, before looking down at me

never expected you get married with Atlas after you were discarded by your fiancé. Do you really

voice dropping

breath warm against my ear. “Atlas belongs to me. Just like your

my cheek throbbing, my ears ringing with

before I could react, Ivy suddenly grabbed my wrist–and in one swift motion, she slammed

her own face.

she staggered backward, letting herself crumple onto the

as she cradled her cheek,

your photography,” she said, her voice shaking with false innocence. “I just wanted to ask if you could try a different angle for me. If you

A ceramic cup slipped from Atlas’s fingers, shattering

into fury. In two long strides, he reached Ivy’s side,

he knelt beside her.

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