Chapter 13
1190 Words
Three days passed.
Three painfully quiet, high-stakes days since Calla met with Celeste.
The media storm over the “pregnancy” was only growing. Calla stayed off social media. Damian doubled security. And despite their closeness that night in the guest room, an invisible wall had returned between them.
Not cold.
But cautious.
As if they both knew the moment of vulnerability was too fragile to hold forever.
Calla tried to focus on her charity work—scheduling fundraisers, reviewing proposals—but even her assistant could tell she was distracted.
“Bad sleep?” Marisol asked.
Calla sighed. “Bad everything.”
“Try lavender oil and kicking your ex’s new ex in the throat.”
She laughed. Barely.
By the time Damian got home that night, Calla had poured herself two glasses of wine. One untouched.
“You’re late,” she said again.
His tie was loose. His sleeves rolled up. He looked exhausted.
“I met with the board.”
She waited.
Then, slowly, he added, “Celeste’s threatening to leak something.”
Calla stiffened. “What?”
“She got her hands on the prenup.”
Her stomach dropped.
The prenup—meticulously drawn to look like a real marriage, but laced with clauses: how long they had to pretend, what happened if one fell in love, what happened if one cheated.
And the biggest clause of all:
If either party backs out before one year is complete, Vale Industries suffers a hostile takeover.
If the press saw that…
They were finished.
All of it—fake vows, their public story, even her rising reputation—would collapse.
Calla whispered, “How did she get it?”
“We don’t know.” Damian poured a glass and downed it. “But she’s not bluffing. She wants you gone.”
Calla stared at him. “And what do you want?”
He hesitated.
Then placed his glass down, walked to her, and gently cupped her face.
“You.”
She blinked.
He leaned closer.
“Not because of the contract. Not because of the threat. Because every time you look at me like I’m not a monster, I forget I ever was one.”
Her breath hitched.
She kissed him first.
Soft, slow, but filled with emotion that had no words.
When they parted, he whispered, “We need to fight back.”
She nodded. “Then let’s destroy her.”
The plan was dangerous.
Illegal, even.
But desperate times made enemies out of innocents.
Calla met with Liam Vale—Damian’s estranged cousin and tech prodigy turned security genius. He’d been exiled from the family after exposing a scandal five years ago, and now he only answered Damian’s calls with one-word responses.
This time, Liam said: “You’re screwed.”
“Nice to see you too,” Calla muttered.
He smirked. “You want me to dig into Celeste’s files. Find out how she got the prenup. Trace the leak.”
“Yes.”
“It’s encrypted.”
“Can you do it?”
He grinned like a shark. “Give me two hours and a dirty martini.”
While he worked, Calla paced Damian’s private office.
Her phone buzzed again.
Another anonymous message.
You’re only wearing the ring because he owes you.
He wore it with me first.
She deleted it.
But her hand shook.
Two hours later, Liam called.
“I got in.”
Calla snatched the phone. “And?”
“She didn’t leak the prenup. Yet. She sent a copy to a journalist under a fake name, but it’s scheduled to go public tomorrow morning.”
“Can you stop it?”
“No. But I can replace it.”
She blinked. “Replace it?”
“With a fake version. One that makes your marriage look airtight. In love, unbreakable, scandal-free. I can even add a fake baby clause if you want to keep that going.”
Her stomach twisted. “Will it hold up?”
“Long enough to make Celeste look like the liar.”
Calla hesitated.
Then said: “Do it.”
The next morning, the leak hit the headlines.
EXCLUSIVE: Inside the Private Vows of Damian and Calla Vale
Love in Legal Lines: The Prenup That’s Actually a Love Letter
Celeste Ainsworth Caught Fabricating Legal Documents — Slander Lawsuit Incoming?
The fake prenup had worked.
The media turned.
And Celeste’s silence spoke volumes.
Calla watched the news in disbelief.
“I can’t believe we pulled it off,” she whispered.
Damian kissed the top of her head. “You did.”
But her victory was short-lived.
Because that night, a package arrived at the penthouse.
No return address.
Just her name.
Calla opened it slowly.
Inside was a flash drive.
And a note.
“You’re playing checkers in a game of chess.
I’m still ten steps ahead.
Plug it in if you dare.”
—C
Damian snatched it from her hands. “Don’t touch that.”
“I have to know.”
“No, Calla. If she’s threatening again, it means she’s found something else.”
She stared at him.
Then quietly said: “Is there something else to find?”
He hesitated.
Longer than he should have.
Her voice dropped. “Damian?”
He swallowed.
“There’s something you don’t know. Something I never told you.”
Calla stepped back. “Tell me now.”
He looked her in the eye.
And everything shifted.
“I didn’t marry you just for the deal. I married you because Celeste threatened to hurt someone.”
She froze. “Who?”
He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight.
“Your father.”
Her entire body went cold.
“What?”
“She found out about his debt. His medical bills. She knew you were paying them off secretly. She used that as leverage. If I didn’t marry you and ruin the deal with the rival firm… she would’ve leaked your father’s records. Cost him his insurance. His care.”
Calla was shaking.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I couldn’t. You wouldn’t have agreed.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes.
“So you used me.”
“No.” He grabbed her hand. “I chose you. Even when it cost me everything. I just couldn’t risk your family. I couldn’t risk you.”
She yanked her hand away.
“You let me fall in love with you, and the whole time you were playing god with my life.”
“Calla—”
“No,” she said, voice rising. “I need air.”
She stormed out before he could stop her.
Outside, the night air was cold.
Calla wandered the city for hours. No driver. No guards. Just her heels clacking against the pavement, heart shattering with every step.
How much of this had been real?
How much had she imagined?
And now that she finally saw the whole board… did she even want to keep playing?
Her phone buzzed.
Blocked Number.
“He chose you, Calla.
But I’ll make sure he regrets it.”
She deleted it.
And kept walking.
Alone.
- Writer
