Chapter 118
She paused. “Then do it. Prove it. Until then… stay out of the house. Stay out of our lives. Stay where you are.”
My chest felt like someone had carved a hole through it. Stay away? From my family? From my son? But I didn’t argue. I didn’t yell. I just nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.
“Okay,” I said, voice tight. “I’ll prove it. And when I do… you’ll believe me. I swear, Love. I swear.”
I hung up and poured another drink. Not because I wanted it, but because I needed to feel something other than the hollow ache of betrayal.
The next week was hell. I barely slept. I worked through hangovers, arguments with Marcus, and endless threads of surveillance footage. Every day, I was closer to the truth, but the closer I got, the more I realized how deeply someone had planned this.
Someone knew Zia. Knew her instincts. Knew exactly what would break her. And they weren’t done.
I was determined. Not for my pride. Not for my reputation. But for Alexander. And for Zia. I would crawl through fire, swim through blood, and topple anyone in my way. And when I finally had the evidence, when I could walk back into that mansion, Alexander in my arms, Zia’s eyes meeting mine.
I would fix this.
And whoever had tried to tear my family apart… they were going to regret ever thinking I was powerless.
Zia
I didn’t kick him out because I wanted to. That’s the part everyone keeps missing.
I sent Xander away because if I didn’t, I was going to break something. Maybe him. Maybe me. Maybe our whole damn life.
The house felt wrong without him. Too quiet in some places, too loud in others. Alexander didn’t care, obviously. He was busy trying to eat a wooden block and yelling at the dog. Babies live in the now. Adults drown in the what-ifs. I was drowning.
Everywhere I went, I felt eyes on me. Staff moving softer than usual. My mother hovering but pretending not to. Arthur was pacing like a ghost who didn’t know where to land. The whole place felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for me to explode or fall apart.
I did both. Just not where anyone could see. I trusted Xander with my life. With my body. With my past. With my son.
So yeah, when the rumors hit, they didn’t just sting. They ripped something open.
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. But belief is easy when things are calm. Belief gets tested when your whole world is already cracked.
I always believed danger came loud. Guns. Threats. Enemies you could see coming a mile away. I was wrong. Real danger comes quietly. Smiling. Holding a tablet. Asking if you want coffee. Her name was Elise. And yeah, I remembered her.
That hit me like a punch to the chest when Marcus pulled up the old files. High school records. Yearbooks. Old photos scanned and cleaned up. Same eyes. Same smile. Different face. Different body. Different from everything else.
“She changed a lot,” Marcus said carefully. I let out a dry laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
Back in high school, she was the girl who hovered. Always nearby. Always laughing too hard at my jokes. Always finding excuses to sit next to me. I’d been popular, rich, and already marked for bigger things. She’d been invisible. Or at least I’d thought she was.
Guess invisibility turns into obsession if you let it sit long enough.
“She followed your career,” Marcus went on. “College. Europe. The mergers. The marriage. The baby. She tracked everything. Applied for the assistant role under a new name. New records. Clean. Perfect.” My stomach twisted.
“So this wasn’t random,” I muttered. “She planned this long ago.”
Marcus nodded. “She wanted proximity. Access. And when she saw Madam… I guess she snapped.”
I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my face. “She wanted my life.”
“Yeah,” Marcus said. “She wanted to be Mrs. Thorne.”
That part hurt in a way I didn’t expect. Not because I cared about her. I didn’t. But because she thought she could replace Zia. Like Zia was just a role. A chair she could slide into if she pushed hard enough. I stood up fast, pacing. “Show me everything. All of it.”
Screens lit up. Messages she’d sent to herself. Fake pregnancy tests. Edited photos. Emails she forged using my schedule and tone. Voice notes clipped together. She even copied how I texted. Short. Direct. Casual. She studied me. That made my skin crawl.
“She planted the rumors,” Marcus said. “Fed them to staff. To outside contacts. Made sure Zia would hear it from more than one source. She wanted it to feel real.”
I clenched my jaw. “She wanted my wife to break.”
“And she wanted you isolated,” Marcus added. “Which worked.”
I thought about Zia’s eyes when she told me to leave. The way her voice shook even when she tried to sound cold. The way she hugged Alexander tighter, like she was already bracing for impact.
Rage rolled through me.
“She used my past against me,” I said quietly. “And my silence.”
I grabbed my jacket. “Where is she?”
Marcus didn’t hesitate. “At the office. She thinks you’re still drowning.”
Good. Walking into the office felt surreal. Same hallways I’d ruled for years. Same people nodding, respecting me. And her at the desk. Hair sleek. Clothes are perfect. Soft smile.
“Xander,” she said, standing up too fast. “I wasn’t sure you’d come in today.”
I smiled back. That’s what scared her.
“Walk with me,” I said casually. “We need to talk.” Her eyes lit up. Hope. Actual hope.
She followed me into the conference room. Glass walls. Cameras rolling. Marcus was watching from the other side. She sat across from me, folding her hands. “I’m so sorry about everything. I can’t imagine how hard this must be. Mrs. Thorne… she’s being unfair,” she said.
There it was. I leaned forward. “You think so?” She nodded eagerly. “I know you. You’d never cheat. You’re loyal. You’re misunderstood,” she said.
I almost laughed. “You’ve always been loyal,” she went on softly. “Even back then,” she said quietly.
I froze. “Back when.” Her smile slipped for half a second. Just enough.
“In school,” she said. “You protected people. You stood up for me once. You probably don’t remember.” She said
I remembered now. Some guy had been an asshole. I’d told him to back off. That was it. One moment. And she’d built a whole fantasy off it.
“Elise,” I said calmly. “How long have you wanted my life?”
She stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered.
I tapped the tablet on the table. Photos. Logs. Messages. Proof stacked so high it crushed the air out of the room. Her face drained.
“You framed me,” I said. “You lied about my marriage. You tried to break my family. And you dragged my son into it.”
Her lips trembled. “I did it for us,” she whispered. That was it.
“For us?” I repeated, voice flat.