Chapter 160: Hundred and Sixty

The first time I heard it, I almost convinced myself it was in my head.

Two women from HR, standing by the copy machine, voices pitched just low enough to feel like secrets.

“…you know that’s his kid, right? Look at the timing. Look at the eyes.”

“…and her? Please. She’s been playing this game since day one. Single mom, tragic story, catches the heir. Classic.”

“Did you know they were together when he was her professor in college? Well, at least her career is looking up for the rest of her life.”

I hugged the folder tighter against my chest and walked past them, eyes locked on the floor tiles, my cheeks burning. I wanted to stop, to say something, but what would I even say? That they were wrong? That it wasn’t like that? Because it was exactly like that. Except not in the way they meant, maybe. But anyone on the outside would think this. And the papers were not doing much to dissipate the mud being slung at me.

By the time I reached my office, my hands were trembling so badly I nearly dropped the papers. I told myself to breathe, told myself it didn’t matter. People gossip. People always gossip.

But by lunchtime, it wasn’t whispers anymore.

An anonymous message came through the company chat: “Does her husband know he’s raising another man’s child?”

“Lol they broke up.” Was someone else’s reply.

I slammed my laptop shut so hard the screen rattled. My stomach turned violently, like I might be sick right there at my desk.

It was happening again.

History repeating. The shame, the whispers, the quiet judgment that followed me after I left Declan all those years ago, they were back, sharper this time, because now they weren’t just about me. They were about Noah.

That video. Mara. That sick feeling in my stomach all those years ago, it was back.

And oh, my son. My sweet, innocent little boy, who had no idea that his life, his very existence, was office gossip.

I pressed my palms hard against my eyes, fighting the tears. I couldn’t let anyone see me cry. I couldn’t let them win, I couldn’t let anyone know this was getting to me.

But of course, Declan noticed. He always noticed.

“Willow.” His voice was low, steady, as he walked into my office. I opened my eyes to see him closing the door behind him, his tall frame filling the room. Arms crossed. Eyes sharp. “What happened?”

I forced my voice into something neutral. “Nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”

I turned away, fiddling with a pen. “Drop it.”

“Not a chance,” he said flatly. “You look like you’re gonna cry. Talk to me.”

My throat burned. I wanted to keep it in, to swallow it down and pretend I was fine, but the words broke free anyway.

“They’re talking about us,” I whispered. “About me. About Noah. They’re calling me a gold-digger, Declan. They’re saying you’re a fool and I’m,” I sighed, “I can’t do this again. I can’t survive being the ruin of your name.”

His face changed. The easy calm vanished, replaced by something harder, protective. He crossed the room in three strides, crouching down beside me.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

I shook my head, staring down at my trembling hands.

“Willow.” His hand found mine, warm and steady. “Look at me.”

I lifted my eyes, and the look on his face undid me. Fierce. Steadfast.

“You are not ruining me,” he said firmly. “You’ve never ruined me. You saved me. You are the reason I get out of bed in the morning, the reason I fight. You and Noah, you’re everything to me.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. “But your reputation, Declan, your career. I’m so sorry it has come to be like this.”

“Do you think I give a damn about reputation?” His voice sharpened, but not at me. God, never at me. At the world, at the rumours, at anyone who dared make me feel this small. Then he softened again. “I care about you. About Noah. About us. Let them talk. Let them gossip. It doesn’t matter.

“I can’t…” My chest heaved. “I can’t let you lose everything because of me.”

“Lose everything?” He leaned closer, his hand sliding up to my cheek, thumb brushing away a tear. “Willow, you are everything. Don’t you get it yet? Without you, all of this…” he gestured vaguely toward the office, the building, the world outside, “means nothing.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to drown in that certainty. But the fear coiled tighter in my chest. “It’ll spread. It always spreads. And then your mother…”

“Stop.” His voice low and unyielding, was firm. “My mother doesn’t control me. The board doesn’t control me. Gossip doesn’t control me. I decide who I love, who I build a life with. And it’s you, Willow. It’s always been you.”

I leaned forward until my forehead pressed to his shoulder, breathing him in, trying to believe it, trying to let myself feel safe in his arms. His familiar scent. Wood. The ocean. Him.

But the whispers didn’t stop. If anything, they got louder over the next few days. Stares in the hallway. Smirks when Declan and I passed each other. A junior analyst actually had the nerve to whisper “gold-digger” under his breath as I walked past.

I didn’t tell Declan. I couldn’t. He had enough to worry about.

By Friday, it boiled over.

I was on my way to the breakroom, needing coffee desperately, when I heard it again.

“…can you imagine? Clinging onto him because of a kid. Honestly, it’s pathetic.”

Laughter.

I froze in the doorway.

Before I could decide whether to turn and run, Declan was suddenly behind me. He must’ve heard it too, because his entire body went rigid. I could practically feel the fury radiating off him.

For a heartbeat, I thought he might explode.

Instead, he strode into the breakroom.

The room went silent.

Declan didn’t have to raise his voice. He didn’t even have to look angry. He just was. Every inch of him radiated power, the kind of presence that silenced a room without effort.

He looked around, his gaze sweeping over the cluster of staff, landing on each of them in turn.

“I don’t know what you think gives you the right to talk about my family,” he said, his voice calm but deadly. “But it ends now.”

No one moved. No one breathed.

“Willow is not your gossip. Noah is not your punchline. They are my family. And if anyone in this office thinks they can treat them otherwise, they’ll find themselves looking for another job by tomorrow morning.”

A murmur rippled through the group. Someone muttered an apology. Another shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze.

Declan’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want apologies. I want respect. If you can’t manage that, you all know, what I can do to your careers.”

Silence.

Finally, his eyes found mine. The hardness melted instantly, replaced by something softer, protective. “Willow. Come on.”

He held out his hand.

For a second, I froze. Everyone was watching. Taking his hand meant declaring myself in front of them, meant no more hiding.

Then I took it.

His fingers closed around mine, warm and sure, and he walked me out of the breakroom like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We didn’t speak until we were back in my office, the door closed behind us.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“Yes, I did.” His eyes blazed with certainty. “Because you were about to run. I saw it in your eyes.”

I looked away, my throat thick. He wasn’t wrong.

“I told you before, Willow,” he said, softer now, almost pleading. “I’m not letting you go. Not this time. Not ever.”

“Its not even your company for you to threaten them like this…”

He chuckled, “Yeah…about that.”