CHAPTER 3: Uncovering Lies
472 Words
But instead of softening, Gavin’s eyes hardened again. His voice, once steady, turned sharp with resentment.
“You’re a better actress than I thought,” he said coldly.
Vanna flinched.
“What?”
He stepped forward again, not violent, but intense — the air between them charged with fury.
“Do you know how many women my father has charmed with the same lies?” he hissed. “Do you really expect me to believe that a woman as smart and powerful as you—someone who’s grown up around sharks—didn’t know she was swimming with one?”
Vanna opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
“You had every resource to dig into him. His history. His marriage. His patterns. But you chose to believe the fantasy.” His voice cracked, but his jaw remained clenched. “You wanted to be deceived.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Fair?” he scoffed, bitter. “Was it fair when my mother begged him to come home every night while he was out parading around with women who looked like they belonged in magazines?”
Was it fair when he made promises to me and left before my eighth birthday and never came back unless there were cameras around?”
Vanna swallowed hard. She hadn’t known. No one had told her how deep Gavin’s wounds ran.
“Gavin…” she tried gently, but he wasn’t finished.
“Don’t pretend you’re just another victim.” His voice was ice now.
“You walked into that resort, glowing, happy, wearing his initials like a crown. Don’t act like you were blind. You wanted to be the exception. You wanted to be the one he didn’t leave.”
His words sliced through her chest. She felt exposed, humiliated—but something inside her wouldn’t break. Not yet.
“You’re angry because you think I betrayed you,” she said quietly. “But the truth is, I didn’t even know you existed.”
His expression flickered—just for a second—but he didn’t respond.
“And I’m sorry,” she added, breathing hard, her voice shaking now not from fear, but fury of her own. “I’m sorry your father hurt you. I’m sorry your mother was left behind. But don’t you dare project his sins onto me.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re still protecting him.”
“No,” she snapped, eyes burning. “I’m protecting myself.”
The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful—it was tense, almost unbearable. Both of them stood there, breathing hard, a storm of unsaid things swirling in the air between them.
Then Gavin turned his back to her. For a long moment, he said nothing.
“You should leave,” he muttered finally.
“Before I say something I’ll regret.”
- Writer
