The Rat In Shadows: His Downfall

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d into his office building, expecting to find him putting the finishing touches on a post-op r

e unusually subdued. "Said he had an urgent personal matte

omach. Urgent personal

pity and discomfort. Other colleagues in the bustling plastic surgery department seemed to avoid my ga

I opened Instagram. The first post on m

face. Leo, her son, stood between them, grinning, clutching Braden's free hand. All th

afternoon with my incredible boys! Family time i

for a scraped knee, then paraded around as Isabella's loving partner. My heart hammered against my ribs, a dull, aching throb. I

en, with a chilling calmness, I tapped the 'like' button. And added a comment: "So glad you all

favor. No more protecting his fragile image. He wante

rtment, my phone was buzzing incessantly. Missed calls fro

d vanished. Too late. Th

s usually impeccable hair was slightly dishevelled, his tie askew. "Why didn't

wn eyes cold and unw

opened his mouth, then closed it.

o demanding! He insisted on 'family pictures' at the park. It was all so innocent, just a bit of fun. And then he just grabbed your phone and posted it! Ki

response. "Isabella," I said, my

Braden, her hand reaching for his s

he took my hand, her grip surprisingly firm. "Clementine, dear! Don't be so stiff. Isabe

ely, pulled my hand free. I handed her the expensive bo

for my career had waned the moment our fertility struggles became public. Suddenly, my achievements meant nothing. All tha

that mattered to them was a child, a legacy. And if I couldn't provide it, they seemed perfe