2025-08-23 22:47:13
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Chapter 35: Final Withdrawal
Jessica had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head.Every version ended differently—sometimes she screamed, sometimes she wept, sometimes she struck Michael across the face until her palm went numb. But one thing never changed.He always left.She told herself that today would be no different. Today, it wasn’t a fantasy. Her hands were shaking a bit as she pushed the last suitcase over by the door. It wasn't even hers. It was his. That leather duffel of his, full with those shirts he'd tossed all over her bedroom floor, and the shoes that dragged mud right into her hallway with, cologne bottles that hit her throat hard every single time she smelled them.The apartment felt lighter with every item removed. And yet, her chest felt like it carried a stone too heavy to lift.The lock clicked. The door swung open. Michael’s voice carried in before his body did.“Jess?” He sounded relaxed, too relaxed, like he still owned the air in here. “You wouldn’t believe the stunt Benson’s
Chapter 34: Wired
Jessica's hands continued to tremble.Long after her office building emptied for the evening, Jessica remained in her office. The city was brightly lit, and the bright glass wall stood strong and impervious to the bustling city. The recorder lay idle on the desk, recording no sounds. The little light blinked like a heartbeat in the dark.Michael’s voice bled through her headphones again:“Adrian Cole won’t be a problem. If he resurfaces, he dies.”She stopped the playback. Yanked the headphones off. Pressed her palms against her face until her skin stung.It wasn’t just her anymore. Michael wasn’t only after her reputation, her company, her life—he wanted Adrian erased.And the thought of it hit something deep, raw. Adrian didn’t even know she was carrying his child. He didn’t know Michael had dug his claws this far.For a long minute, Jessica just sat there, her chest heaving. Then she forced her shaking hands onto the keyboard.She typed a short message to her father’s old legal con
Chapter 33: The Fallout
Jessica was sleepless.The apartment was dark. The blinds were closed. Each time she stood still, her eyes were pulled back to the small object on the table.The bug.Black. Smooth. The size of a coin, but heavy as a stone in her mind. Michael’s initials were scratched faintly at the back, like a sick signature. The tiny red light blinked when she first found it, soft and patient, as if it had been watching her for weeks.Her throat tightened again at the thought. He had been in the room without ever being there. Listening. Breathing down her neck without moving a muscle.The urge to crush the thing under her heel came in waves, violent and satisfying in her imagination, but her trembling hands wouldn’t let her. No—if she destroyed it, she’d lose proof. Proof was all she had.She sank into the couch, her hand pressing against her belly. A whisper broke from her lips, hoarse, cracked.“I’ll protect you. Even if it kills me.”The apartment didn’t answer. But her palm warmed against her
Chapter 32: The Last Recording
Jessica sat very still after Michael left.The office was too neat, too polished, too quiet. Her reflection in the glass wall looked like a ghost—eyes wide and glassy, her body stiff in the chair as though moving might shatter her into pieces.On the desk sat the recorder. Useless now.Her hand hovered over it but never touched. What was the point? Michael had pressed delete right in front of her, smiling as though he’d cut the strings that held her together.Her mother-in-law’s voice was gone.That soft tone—gentle even in pain, forgiving even in her warnings—it was gone. Deleted with one press of his finger.Jessica bit down hard on the inside of her cheek until blood filled her mouth. She had to taste something real. If she didn’t, she would collapse, maybe scream, maybe beg for it back, and she refused to give Michael that victory.Her hand shook anyway. Suddenly, she grabbed the recorder, holding it up tight against her chest, clutching it as if holding on tight would bring the v
Chapter 31: The Secret Donor
Jessica had lost track of the days. The calender on the wall in her office still showed last week's date, a bold red X chopping through Friday, as if it were taunting her. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday — they all blended together in the same gray haze of meetings, damage control, and whispered boardroom gossip. Her inbox piled higher. Her calls went unanswered. But through all of it, one constant remained. The doctor’s reminders. Prenatal visits. Blood tests. Nutrition plans. All tied to a bill she had no way of paying. Jessica sat in the clinic’s waiting room now, with her hand hovering above her abdomen, guarding a secret that no one else could see. With her other hand, she held an invoice folded more than a few times, with the total circled in red. Too high. Impossible. When Jessica heard the nurse calling her for her appointment, she got up, adjusted her blazer, and strutted down the hall like she owned the place. She began to follow the white sterile hall,
Chapter 30: The Slap
The ballroom sparkled beautifully—a golden aura draped, soft violin notes in the distance, champagne glasses clinking as servers skated through clusters of investors and C.E.O.s. But to Jessica, it felt suffocating.When she walked into the room, her heels clicked too loud against the marble floor, the hem of her black dress brushing past her ankles, she imagined every smile she put on felt fragile, and if she pressed too hard it might split, as all the rumors felt so heavy. She had carefully dressed for tonight—a simple dress, not extravagant or flashy, but still an elegant. A silk navy dress that molded her shape, she wore a silver chain around her neck. No rings, no flashy accessories. She wanted to project control, stability, power. But beneath the polish, her hands trembled when she reached for a glass of sparkling water.It wasn’t the investors that unnerved her. It was him.Michael was already here.She saw him across the room, tall and composed, the easy charmer in a tailo
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