2025-09-10 04:44:57
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Chapter 43: Empty Apartment
The echo of slammed doors still rang in Jessica’s ears.She hadn’t even packed half her things when the locks clicked behind her. The Benson mansion—the fortress that had once been her sanctuary, her throne—had spit her out like rotten fruit.Her aunt’s voice still clung to her skin, cruel and cold:“You’ll bring nothing but scandal with that bastard child. We won’t let you drag this family name into the dirt any further.”Her uncle’s was worse, almost bored in its dismissal:“Take your shame somewhere else, Jessica. The company can’t afford to be associated with you now.”They hadn’t even looked her in the eye when they ordered the staff to throw her suitcases to the curb. She had stood there on the grand steps, her hands trembling around the handle of one half-zipped bag, the press’s flashes already bursting from across the gate. The family hadn’t cared.She wasn’t Jessica Benson, heiress anymore. She was Jessica Benson, disgraced, pregnant, disposable.––By the time the taxi drop
Chapter 42: Her First Defiance
The cameras blinded her first. Not the questions. Not the whispers. The lights—harsh, snapping, too close—flashed like knives in the air. Jessica lifted her hand against them, but it was useless. A wall of paparazzi surged forward the moment she stepped through the hospital doors, her secret had leaked and the world smelled blood.“Jessica Benson! Is it true?”“Whose child is it?”“Are you pregnant by Michael Kane or—”Her name spat like ammunition.She froze on the top step. Cold air cut her face. Every part of her wanted to run back inside, bury herself in the white corridors where silence, at least, still existed. But behind her, the doors were already closing. The glass reflected her image back at her: pale, eyes too wide, hand instinctively resting against her stomach.Eight weeks.It was real now.One reporter pushed closer, microphone jabbing like a spear. “Jessica! The Bensons haven’t made a statement. Did your family disown you?”Her chest tightened. That word—family.They
Chapter 41: Shadows Of Life
The lights in the clinic’s hallway buzzed. Too bright. Too clean. The kind of place where truth was spoken without care for what it could do to a person’s chest. Jessica sat on the edge of the chair, palms damp against her knees.The nurse’s voice had already been soft, but soft didn’t blunt the words. Eight weeks. Healthy. A strong heartbeat.Jessica hadn’t responded. Not even a nod. Just the press of her lips, tight until they went white. Her stomach twisted like something had clawed through it. She knows. Somewhere in the sleepless nights, the late sickness, the strange ache in her chest—But hearing it again, accepting it. Having it pinned down in words she couldn’t shake?That broke her.She signed the discharge papers with a shaking hand, eyes blurring over the black ink. The nurse said something else—gentle, professional, meaningless. Jessica didn’t catch it. The walls hummed louder.When she stepped outside, night hit her in the face. The wind was sharp, autumn biting into
Chapter 40: Broken, Not Bitter
Jessica just sat there in all that quiet longer than she could even track. Time kind of leaked away through the old cracks in the restored house. It only brought along the sound of her own breaths. Shallow ones. The journal stayed open right there on her lap. Its pages sort of whispered under the faint weight of some life that wasn't even hers. But she had helped wound it, all the same.Her hands trembled as she traced the writing slanted, hurried, worn with grief. Adrian’s mother’s words weren’t polished confessions. They were jagged scars pressed into paper. Regret. Hope. Fear. A desperate plea to shield her son from more hurt.Every line pulled at Jessica’s chest like a hook.And then…..boots on the path outside.She froze. The sound was deliberate, steady, unhurried. Her breath caught when the key turned in the lock.The door opened.Adrian stepped inside.––He looked different under the yellow wash of the lamp. His suit jacket hung over one arm, his shirt sleeves rolled up,
Chapter 39: The Journal
Jessica stood still as she had been when she first heard the system's words echoing in her mind like an unshakable heartbeat: [This is a test of presence.] The walls surrounding her in Adrian's restored home were closing in on her, pleading with her to confess or succumb to the weight of months of pain she had carried unacknowledged. Moving slowly, she itched to touch something, anything to convince herself what she was experiencing was real and not some horrible dream or trickery of some kindShe moved room by room, each time rubbing her fingers along shelving, collecting dust on her fingertips. The living room had drawn back curtains and sunshine spilling onto an old couch. Sitting on the coffee table was a mug, empty but stained slightly at the rim.. Someone had sat here. Recently.Jessica whispered, almost to herself.“Adrian…”No answer. Just the hum of silence pressing back.She nearly turned back—she should’ve—but her eyes caught on the hallway that led deeper in. A narrow do
Chapter 38: Crashing Silence
Jessica had stopped answering calls. The phone kept ringing. Board members wanted explanations right away. Reporters were after any little scrap they could get. Lawyers kept pushing for meetings. But she just let it buzz until it went quiet every single time. Even the notifications popping up on her screen, they felt like knives now, stabbing at her with all these reminders of what was slipping right through her fingers. The Benson Group was her legacy. It was her shield, her prison in a way. It was all unraveling way faster than she could even try to hold it togetherMichael had vanished after the recordings went public. Vanished as though the city had swallowed him whole. No smug texts. No drunken rants. Not even the cruel satisfaction she expected him to flaunt when the media turned its eye on her instead.Silence.And silence was worse than his voice. For the first time in months. Jessica was alone. No enemy staring her down. No sharp words to throw back at. Just her own face star
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