Chapter 73
Lena's POV
"If we sue, it becomes a story. We'd have to prove damages, provide discovery, sit through depositions where they get to ask about every detail of my personal life." I shook my head. "That's exactly what they want—to keep this alive, make it about whether I'm a good person instead of whether I'm a good lawyer."
"Then what?" Diana asked. "We just let them win?"
"We wait," I said. "And we document everything. If they keep pushing, we'll have enough evidence to bury them. But right now, we don't engage."
It was the right strategy. I knew it was.
But watching my professional reputation get shredded in real-time, unable to defend myself—it felt like drowning in slow motion.
---
At eight PM, I was still at the office when my phone lit up with notifications. Dozens of them.
I opened Twitter first.
The top trending topic in Silverton: #LenaGrant
My stomach clenched. Then I saw the next tweet in my feed.
It was from Reynolds Industries' official account.
Statement from Rowan Reynolds, CEO of Reynolds Industries:
It has come to my attention that malicious and false allegations are being spread regarding Ms. Lena Grant's character and professional conduct. I want to state, clearly and for the record:
1) Ms. Grant and I were married for two years in a formal arrangement acknowledged by both families. During that time, she conducted herself with complete integrity and professionalism.
2) The insinuations that Ms. Grant engaged in infidelity or used our marriage for professional gain are categorically false. Her success as an attorney is based entirely on her exceptional skill and dedication to her clients.
3) I have never had a romantic relationship with Ms. Nora Kane. Any suggestion otherwise is incorrect.
4) These coordinated attacks on Ms. Grant's reputation are defamatory and appear designed to damage her growing legal practice. Reynolds Industries stands behind Ms. Grant's professional reputation and will support any legal action she chooses to take against those responsible.
5) Ms. Grant is one of the most capable and ethical attorneys I have worked with. Anyone questioning her integrity based on anonymous internet posts is making a serious error in judgment.
I read it three times.
The statement was posted from both the company account and Rowan's personal profile. Within minutes, it had hundreds of shares.
My phone rang. Diana.
"Are you seeing this?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Reynolds just nuked his own reputation to defend yours. The comments are going crazy—half are calling him a white knight, half are asking why he's so defensive if there's nothing between you."
I couldn't process it. The clinical precision of the statement. The way he'd dismantled every allegation point by point. The reference to Nora—a public rejection that would make headlines.
He'd made himself the story. Deliberately.
"Lena?" Diana's voice. "You still there?"
"I'm here."
"The posts are already getting taken down. Sterling PR is distancing themselves from the campaign. Someone must have threatened them with serious legal action."
Of course they had. Rowan wouldn't have just issued a statement—he would have sent lawyers, leveraged business relationships, made it clear there would be consequences.
Another text from Emily: HOLY SHIT. Did you know he was going to do this???
I didn't answer.
Instead, I sat in my dark office, staring at Rowan's statement on my screen, and felt something dangerous stir in my chest.
He'd protected me. Publicly. Aggressively.
At what cost? What did he want in return?
Nothing, a traitorous voice whispered. Maybe he wanted nothing. Maybe he just—
I shut the thought down. Two years of marriage had taught me that Rowan Reynolds never acted without calculation. This was strategy. Reputation management. Protecting a business interest.
It had to be.
Because if it wasn't—if there was any chance this was personal—
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:
Check your email. —R
My hands were steady as I opened my inbox. New message from Rowan's personal address, sent to me and bcc'd to what looked like twenty major legal publications and news outlets.
The subject line: Retraction Demand and Legal Notice
The email detailed Reynolds Industries' legal team's findings—proof that Sterling PR had been hired to run a defamation campaign, evidence of the offshore payment, even screenshots of internal communications about "damage to Grant's credibility."
At the bottom, a single line in Rowan's typical terse style:
They'll print retractions by morning. The rest is up to you.
I sat back in my chair, pulse thudding in my ears.
He'd done it. Actually done it. Dismantled the entire attack in less than twelve hours.
Rachel appeared at my door, practically bouncing. "Three clients just called back. They saw the statement. They want to confirm we're still on for next week's meetings."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
After Rachel left, I looked at Rowan's statement one more time. Read between the lines of that careful, controlled language:
She conducted herself with complete integrity.
One of the most capable and ethical attorneys I have worked with.
Anyone questioning her integrity is making a serious error in judgment.
Not "my ex-wife." Not "a business associate."
He'd defended me like I was still his.
Like I'd ever been his.
I closed the laptop before I could read it again. Before I could let myself believe it meant anything more than professional courtesy or guilt or whatever logical explanation made sense.
But as I gathered my things to leave, I caught my reflection in the dark window—and for the first time in days, I looked less like I was holding myself together by force of will alone.
I hated that Rowan had done this.
Hated that it worked.
Hated most of all that some part of me—small, stubborn, impossible to silence—was grateful.