Hardin’s POV
What kind of stunt is this girl trying to pull?
I gripped both sides of the wooden podium, my knuckles turning white as I tried to keep myself steady on my feet. My side was still burning from the fresh stitches, but I couldn't afford to look weak up here.
“Wait, you actually have proof of this?” one of the reporters yelled, swinging his mic toward the back of the room.
Vivian strutted down the middle aisle in her heels, two of her family guards trailing right behind her. She had that annoying, smug look on her face as she took a seat right in the front row, crossing her legs like she was the main event.
“Yes, I do,” she said, speaking loud enough for every camera to pick it up. “Because I know Hardin is standing up there ready to lie through his teeth and deny everything
