Seven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Truth

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.

kept going, each snap of the camera a

the session, the room emptied, leaving only Ivy and me. She

turned to me, her voice light, almost

she said, her words laced

06:50

Love, Seven

68.1%

Chapter 4

hard you try, you’ll never

nails dug into

grew heavy, my body trembling as white

And then-

*Slap.*

sharp sting exploded across my cheek, leaving a burning trail in its

shaking off the impact, before looking

never expected you get married with Atlas after you were

closer, her voice dropping

clear,” she said, her breath warm against my ear. “Atlas belongs to me.

my ears ringing with her words.

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

her own face.

from her lips as she staggered backward, letting herself crumple

cradled her cheek, looking up at

ask if you could try a different angle for me. If you don’t want to, that’s fine… there’s no need to get so angry.”

door creaked open. A ceramic cup slipped from Atlas’s fingers, shattering against

shock, quickly darkening into fury. In two long strides, he reached Ivy’s side, shoving me aside

knelt