Project Nightingale: Her Silent Vengeance

y stolen masterpiece, "Project Nightingale." I was

I was pregnant. But to him, our baby wasn't a blessin

eam of his lies, confronted me in a

es. He wasn't mourning our child; he was worried about th

t he had just unleashed the wom

my lawyer. "It's time," I said, "

pte

Rhode

practiced smile plastered across his face. He held up a thick binder, its cover gleaming under the lights. "Project Nightingale," he boomed, his voice echoing with perfectly modulated conviction, "wi

king urban renewal plan, the culmination of years of my life, was his property now. His platform. His ticket to th

age, her own smile matching Brody's, a secret, possessive flicker in her eyes as she looked at hi

ing hands, flashing that dazzling smile. He moved with a practiced ease, a predator in a perfectly tailored suit. I tried to catch his e

public, a casual claiming. Brody laughed, a rich, warm sound that never quite reached his eyes when

towards the back exit, past the lingering supporters, past the murmuring journalists. My phone buzzed in my

e ash. "I... I don't know, Mom. He

me, the judging whispers, the pity. This wasn't the first time I'd been publicly sidelined

felt the familiar prickle of humiliation. When I had confronted him later, he' d dismissed it as "campaign bonding." He told me I was being "overly sensitive," "paranoi

ng glint in his eyes when he pushed me to the edge. It was a game to h

elings weren't real, of my contributions being erased, suddenly felt unbearable. The humiliatio

just drive until I couldn' t see the city lights anymore. But as I reached my car, my phone rang aga

was that stunt about? Leaving

e phone to my ear. "Stunt? Br

a to smooth things over. She had to tell everyone you were feeling unwell

tched. "You

on't be ridiculous. Get back here. Now. We have an image to

my own sense of self. He had perfected the art of control. My body felt weak, suddenly, a dull ache beginning in my

feeling well." The words were true,

on't think for a second I'm falling for that, Finley. You're

, radiated through my belly. I gasped.

oming back here. Or I'll make sure you regret it." He paused, his voice chil

he car door, trying to stand upright, but my legs felt like jelly. I could hear Brody's voic

e you liste

slid to the ground, the rough asphalt digging into my palms. My phone clatte