His Placeholder Bride, My Bitter Revenge

Trevin

ones. Sutton Holdings. Destroying me. The words echoed in the hollow spac

sharp and unyielding, kicked in. I had to move. I had to protec

I pulled up my files, the mountains of evidence, the meticulously documented sources. I would fight. I would releas

towards Rebecca's office. She was my mentor, my friend, th

illed with a profound weariness. She slowly pushed a crisp white envelope acro

I... I can't. I'm so proud of you, of the journalist you've become. You

at is this? Are they... are

heir influence. They threatened to pull all their advertising, sue the paper into o

r, the woman I respected most, was caught in their

er. "Rebecca," I said, my voice barely a whisper, "thank you. For eve

me strings. There's a visiting scholar program at the London School of Journalism. It's fully funded

u," I choked out, then turned and wa

ng clang. I stood on the sidewalk, the city bustling around me, a b

elderly street vendor, her face etched with worry, was being roughly shoved by two men in

t, for the press pass that was no longer there. The camera I usually carried

without my badge, my paper's backing, my voice? The men sneered at

I could do was silently help the old woman gather her

shared with Grant. I unlocked the door, expecting an empty, silent space. My heart felt

hum of conversation, the clink of cutlery. Grant's

linen apron tied around his waist, stirring something in a gleaming pot. And sitting

" Ivory teased, wrinkling her nose

spoon into the pot, tasted it, and grimaced. "Alright, alright, maybe a little more sa

her smile was genuine, utterly relaxed. "Remember that time

rained laugh. "How could I

aned forward, her eyes sparkling with shared memory. "And then you ju

, his gaze lingering on her with a tenderness that made m

rk. "Speaking of hungry," she purred, her voice dripping with artificial sweetne

ned, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and embar

king at the sumptuous meal laid out on the counter. My eyes were fixed on the bedroom, on the small ba

from behind me. "Stay for

ed, with a sickening lurch, that I had never once seen Grant cook. He had always ordered in, or we would go out. He

said, my voice cold

ipper. Passport. Wallet. Phone. Everything I needed. I didn't even

reply. The words were indistinct, but the intimacy, the easy familiarity, was unm

epped out, the click of the lock a definitive end to this chapter of my life. My