His Political Lie, My Shattered Love

ce

charged myself against the doctor's recommendations. My first stop wasn't

out. Of

e clerk, my voice steady, though my hands

w more keys, then looked up at me, a puzzled expression on her face. "I

d. "What are you

certificate. He'd even shown me the official-looking documents, signed and sealed. He'

'd provided, "it's a forgery. A very good one, but a forge

from the croissant returned, but this time, it was purely metaphorical. He hadn't

didn't need a divorce. There was nothing to divorce. He had played me, yes, but in his cruelt

cate clutched in my hand, a flimsy testament to his mon

race! You shouldn't have left the hospital so soon. You're still recovering.

id, my voice fla

"My father is hosting a charity auction. All the prominent families wi

most said no, but then I remembered my own pla

plied, my voice sweet as p

er in designer clothes, greeted me with a thin-lipped smile. And there she was, Kiara Gonzales, draped in emeralds,

ce. I told her the story of your grandmother. She insisted on wearing it tonigh

y legacy. Given to his mistress. I

ntique vase. "For my beautiful wife," he announced, loud enough for the entire room to hear. A collec

pine. This felt wrong. Too

ensued, Cole and Kiara driving the price higher and higher. The crowd was ent

g the vase for a staggering sum. "A small token for the woman who m

ng smile, he whispered, "I'll be right back. Just need to finalize a few detai

a grim expression on her face. "Madam, we nee

it," I said, trying to proje

stated, her voice tight. "And he explicitly instructed

ght to voicemail. Again and again. My personal accounts. I checked

continued, her voice hardening. "You owe us over two million dollars.

pped bare. I tried to offer my grandmother's pendant as collateral, but Kiara, ever so sweetly, interjected, "Oh

nes would be brutal. Grace Miller, the disgraced journa

s and flashing cameras, felt like walking through fire. My skin crawle