My Marriage License, His Public Fall

ace Bentley, hiding in the shadows because he swore it

ala by my hair, breaking my ribs while the crowd jee

ing a cigarette, and watched

m in that jail cell, until I f

ement with a soci

nd for their f

him, he didn't b

lau

your back, the roof over your head,

t he had

t a disposable pawn

he one thing that could destroy h

nd engagement announc

ok the microphone, and intr

ks, and I'm Chace

pte

elyn

pain blooming where the security guard' s thick fingers dug into my flesh. One moment, I was standing on the periphery of the Bentley annu

against the roar of the crowd. It was a futile pro

rowing murmur of the horrified (or entertained) onlookers. My head throbbed, a dull ache spreading from my temples to the base

ose face I knew better than my own. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes, as if I were a piece of trash to be disposed of. How could

me. Chace' s wife. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth, metallic and acrid. I was

spered, close enough for

just whispers anymore. The words cascaded around me, a torrent of judgment and scorn. "Look at her, trying t

dle, pricking at the flimsy shield I' d built around my heart over the past five years. Fi

the alternative was to simply let them drag me away, confirming every hateful word the crowd was spitting. My desi

t. His jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular, certainly not on me. His face was a mask of calculated indifference. His eyes, usually so vibrant and ful

is side. I saw his lips move. He didn' t even glance my way. Just a low, murmuring instruction, then another indifferent drag. My heart, already bruised a

the shouts of reporters an unbearable din. My name, Gracelyn Weeks, was screamed, twisted into something ugly and contemptible. T

police cruiser. The doors slammed shut, muffling the chaos outside, but not the deafening silence

life I was supposed to be a part of, the life Chace and I were supposed to build. But it was all a lie

d, a drumbeat of pain echoing the emptiness in my chest. They took my fingerprints, my mugshot. The officer behind the desk seemed to enjoy her job a little

my voice barely a whisper. My

all?" she scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Your 'husband'?" She made air q

e Bentley," I said, my voice gaining a despera

ey, Chace Bentley is currently at a gala with his fiancée, C

ys Celina. My stomach churned. "Fiancée?" I repeated, the

our delusional ramblings for one night. He has a restraining order against you. You're going

of being Chace' s hidden wife, the woman he swore he loved, the woman he swore he was protecting from his ruthless f

f the Bentley empire, was a man who saw marriage as a business merger. Anyone who threatened the family legacy would be eliminated. Chace had made me believe

g the curve of my jaw, his eyes full of what I thought was genuine love.

saw beyond my past, someone who promised me a future. I had endured the online bullying, the whispers, the

talker" narrative with her knowing glances and carefully worded statements. I knew she knew about me. She enjoyed th

me, a life he had sworn was ours. All those years, all those sacrifices, all the pain I had swallow

pair. I curled into a ball, my body aching, my heart a hollow space in my chest. The image of Chace, cool

. Everythin