Chapter Three — Betrayal uncovered
1614 Words
“Damn it!” Dianne cursed under her breath as she slammed her laptop shut. The whispers at the office were getting unbearable. Every conversation stopped when she walked in; every pair of eyes seemed to judge her.
She could hear them — the murmurs, the fake sympathy.
“That’s her, right? The runaway bride who slept with someone else?”
“Such a shame. She looked so perfect.”
Her chest tightened. The constant stares clawed at her confidence until all she wanted was to disappear. She was strong — she’d always been strong — but this, this was breaking her piece by piece.
By lunch, she couldn’t take it anymore. She gathered her things and muttered, “I need air,” before walking out. Her heels clicked furiously on the pavement as she called for a cab.
Maybe… just maybe, Damian would finally talk to her. Maybe she could fix what was left of the ruins between them.
She dialed his number again. No answer. Her throat tightened, but she refused to cry. Not here. Not now.
When she reached the house they once shared plans for, she exhaled shakily and pushed open the door with the spare key. The silence hit her first — heavy, still, suffocating. She took a deep breath, whispering to herself, “You can do this, Dianne. You just have to make him listen.”
Then came the sound.
A moan.
Her blood froze.
Her hand trembled as she pushed open the bedroom door — and her world crashed all over again.
There, tangled in the sheets that were supposed to be theirs, was Damian — and Chloe.
Her best friend.
“Damian?” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
They froze. Chloe turned first, completely unbothered, her lips curved into a smirk. “Oh. You’re here.”
Dianne stood rooted, her body numb, her mind refusing to process what her eyes were seeing.
“W—what is this?” she stammered. “You… and Chloe?”
Chloe scoffed and sat up, wrapping the sheet around her casually. “Oh, come on, Dianne. Don’t act surprised. You lost him the moment you started parading your scandal around the internet.”
Dianne’s lips parted in disbelief. “Chloe, I— you’re supposed to be my friend!”
Chloe laughed, cruel and sharp. “Friend? You were always the saint, weren’t you? The perfect Dianne. The perfect bride. But guess what? Damian deserves someone who isn’t a cheap slut who sleeps with strangers before her wedding.”
The words sliced through Dianne like a knife. Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned to Damian — the man she’d once planned her forever with.
“Damian… please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like. Please, say something.”
Damian’s face was unreadable — blank, cold, distant. Then he hissed, “What are you doing here, Dianne? Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Get out.”
Her breath hitched. “I just wanted to talk—”
“Leave,” he snapped, rising from the bed. “And don’t ever show your face here again.”
Her lips quivered. “Damian, please…”
“Get. Out.”
The finality in his tone shattered her.
She stumbled back, her tears blurring her sight as Chloe gave a smug smirk. “You heard him, darling. Leave us alone. You’ve done enough damage already.”
Dianne turned and ran out before her knees could give way. The cold air outside hit her like knives. She pressed her hand against her chest, but the pain only deepened.
By the time she reached her apartment, she was shaking. She locked the door and slid down against it, her sobs echoing through the empty space.
“How could he?” she whispered. “How could they?”
She screamed into her palms, the heartbreak ripping through her chest. Her strong, independent front had crumbled completely. All she had left was pain.
Her phone buzzed on the floor — messages, missed calls, headlines still screaming her shame. She ignored them all. Nothing mattered anymore.
Across town, in a sleek penthouse overlooking Nottin Hill’s skyline, Roy sat with his best friend, Aaron. The tension between them was thick.
Aaron tossed a newspaper onto the table. Dianne’s name was printed across the headline — again.
“Roy, you’ve really done it this time,” Aaron sighed. “You need to find her. Apologize. Make it right before she decides to ruin you too.”
Roy scoffed, leaning back. “I told you, I mistook her for a s*x worker. It was a damn misunderstanding. Why would she ruin me?”
Aaron raised a brow. “Because she’s hurt, humiliated, and the whole world knows you were the man in that room. The press already has your picture. You need to protect your name, Roy. Find her. Bring a gift or something. Smooth it over before she talks.”
Roy clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply. “Fine. I’ll find her. Not because I care, but because I don’t want her ruining my reputation.”
A few hours later, Roy and Aaron were at Dianne’s apartment. He knocked twice, impatient.
When she opened the door, her eyes were swollen and red, her face pale. She froze the moment she saw him — the man who unknowingly destroyed her life.
“You’ve got some nerve showing up here,” she said, her voice low and venomous.
Roy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Look, I came to—”
“Leave.” Her tone cut him off sharply.
Aaron stepped forward gently. “Miss Dianne, we just wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding—”
“I said leave!” Her voice rose, trembling with rage and pain. “You ruined me! You both ruined me! Now get the hell out!”
Roy flinched, surprised by the raw emotion in her voice. Before he could respond, she slammed the door shut — hard.
The sound echoed down the hallway.
Inside, Dianne slid to the floor, her chest heaving. Her tears returned, uncontrollable. She curled up on the cold tiles, whispering brokenly, “I’ve lost everything…”
Outside, Roy exhaled and muttered, “She’s fierce.”
Aaron shot him a look. “You deserve her fury, mate. But something tells me this isn’t the last time you’ll see her.”
Roy glanced back at the closed door — and for a fleeting second, curiosity replaced his arrogance.
The city lights streaked past the tinted windows as Roy leaned back in the leather seat, fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel. Silence hung heavy for a few moments, broken only by the faint hum of the engine.
Aaron glanced over, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well… you handled that like a gentleman,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Knocking on her door after making her life a living hell. Smooth move, Romeo.”
Roy didn’t reply immediately. His jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road as though Dianne’s image was etched onto the asphalt in front of him.
“She’s… different,” he finally muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. “She stirred something in me. Something I haven’t felt with any other woman. In all my dealings… in all my so-called conquests… she’s the first to make me feel… this.”
Aaron’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Roy flustered. “Oh, really? The Dianne Blake effect? The saintly, scandal-magnet runaway bride has actually made Roy Sinclair feel… emotions?”
Roy shot him a sharp glare. “Don’t mock me. I’m serious.”
Aaron laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m mocking, all right. And you’re falling for it too fast. Trust me, mate, she’s dangerous. And you… you’re practically drooling over her already.”
Roy’s grip on the wheel tightened. “I’m not… it’s not like that. I just… she’s not like any woman I’ve ever met. There’s fire in her. She’s strong. Independent. And she doesn’t give a damn about my name or money. She fights back. She refuses to be intimidated. And I—”
Aaron leaned back, shaking his head in amusement. “You? Interested in someone who fights you? Who actually makes you think twice before speaking? Oh, this is rich. Roy Sinclair, the unflappable, unstoppable… love-me-or-hate-me billionaire, has met his match. I’m taking bets now. Who’s going to break first — you or her?”
Roy said nothing. His jaw tightened as he exhaled slowly, the muscles in his face taut. For the first time in years, he felt off-balance — and it scared him.
Aaron chuckled again, the sound echoing in the car. “I have to say, mate… this is entertaining. You usually control everything. Every business, every woman, every deal. And now, here comes Dianne Blake, turning your whole world upside down before you even realized she existed.”
Roy’s gaze shifted slightly from the road to the passenger seat, his expression unreadable. “She’s not just anyone,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “And if anyone tries to hurt her… or humiliate her… I won’t just watch. I won’t let it happen.”
Aaron whistled softly. “Well, that’s a first. Roy Sinclair caring about someone’s feelings. You really are hooked, mate. I’m… impressed. And terrified for you.”
Roy didn’t respond. He simply drove on, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face. For the first time, he felt a dangerous pull — the kind that didn’t involve power, money, or conquest. It involved Dianne Blake. And that realization alone made his pulse quicken.
- Writer
