Chapter 35: The Puppet Strings

“Eve?”

Gabriel’s voice was closer now—rough, heavy with sleep, but edged with suspicion.

I froze by the doorway, my hand still resting against the back door. The house felt too quiet. Too exposed.

“I—” My throat tightened. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Gabriel descended the stairs slowly, one hand on the railing, the other buried in his pocket. His white T-shirt clung to his shoulders, his eyes catching the faint glow of the kitchen light.

“You couldn’t sleep,” he repeated, his tone calm but flat—too calm. “So you decided to go outside?”

I forced a shaky smile. “I needed air. That’s all.”

He studied me, eyes sweeping from my robe to my bare feet to the faint tremor in my hand. “Air.” His gaze lingered on the door behind me. “At two in the morning.”

My pulse thundered. He wasn’t yelling. That was worse. Gabriel only got quiet when he was angry.

Or suspicious.

I stepped forward, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’re overreacting. I just needed to think. About everything.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Were you on the phone?”

“No.” Too quick. Too sharp.

His brow furrowed. “Then why did I see light outside? Like a screen?”

My stomach dropped. The text. Sebastian’s message.

I swallowed hard. “Maybe you imagined it.”

“Eve.” He took a step closer, the distance between us shrinking until I could feel the tension radiating off him. “Don’t lie to me.”

I looked away. “I’m not.”

His hand came up, tilting my chin toward him. “You’re shaking.”

“Because you’re scaring me.”

His eyes softened for a flicker of a moment—but the suspicion didn’t leave. “I just want to know what’s going on,” he said quietly. “You’ve been on edge for days. You don’t sleep. You flinch when the phone rings. If there’s something you’re not telling me…”

My breath hitched. If you only knew.

I wanted to tell him everything—that Sebastian was watching the house, that Emily had someone feeding her secrets, that maybe, just maybe, he himself was at the centre of it.

But I saw the strain in his face, the confusion that haunted him whenever memory tried to resurface.

And I couldn’t risk breaking him again.

I stepped back. “You want to know what’s wrong? It’s her. It’s always her. Emily won’t stop. She’s everywhere, Gabriel. She’s not just trying to destroy our marriage—she’s trying to destroy me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “Then let me handle it.”

“How? You don’t even remember what she’s capable of.”

“I’m remembering enough.”

Something in his tone made me freeze.

He looked up, meeting my gaze squarely. “She called me tonight.”

The air went still.

My voice was barely a whisper. “What?”

“She said she wanted to meet. Alone.”

My pulse stumbled. “And you’re telling me now?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you at all,” he admitted. “Because I didn’t want you to think…”

“That you still care?” I cut in bitterly.

He exhaled hard, eyes closing for a second. “I don’t care about her. I care about the truth. If she’s lying about the pregnancy, I need to know before it destroys us both.”

My chest tightened. Sebastian was right. He’s getting pulled back into her orbit.

“You can’t meet her,” I said firmly. “That’s what she wants.”

“And if it gets us the proof you want?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t trust her. And I don’t trust whoever’s helping her.”

Gabriel’s expression darkened. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t start a sentence you won’t finish.”

I turned away, gripping the edge of the counter until my knuckles went white. “It means she’s not working alone. That’s all I know.”

His eyes narrowed. “How would you know that?”

My stomach twisted. I’d said too much.

“Eve,” he pressed, stepping closer. “Who told you that?”

My mind raced. I can’t mention Sebastian. Not yet.

“No one,” I lied. “It’s just obvious, isn’t it? The timing, the leaks—she always knows too much.”

He stared at me for a long, painful moment.

Then: “You’re hiding something.”

“I’m protecting us!”

“By lying to me?”

The words hit like a slap.

We stood there, both breathing hard, the weight of everything unsaid choking the space between us.

Finally, Gabriel’s voice broke the silence. “If you don’t trust me, then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

My eyes widened. “You don’t mean that.”

He turned away, his hand raking through his hair. “I don’t even know what I mean anymore.”

My throat burnt. “She’s winning, Gabriel. Can’t you see that?”

He didn’t answer.

When I finally climbed the stairs alone, my heart felt like glass—shattered, glittering, impossible to piece together.

Downstairs, Gabriel stayed by the door, staring at the faint footprints I’d left in the dew.

—

Emily adjusted her posture in the leather chair, crossing her legs with precision. The morning light bled through the tall windows of her penthouse, painting soft gold over her coffee cup. She hadn’t slept—not really—but she didn’t need sleep when adrenaline tasted this sweet.

Because the cracks were showing.

She could feel it.

I and Gabriel were splintering again.

Her phone buzzed once on the marble table. She didn’t have to look at the name. She knew the pattern of that vibration by heart.

A slow smile curved her lips as she answered. “Well?”

The voice on the other end was low, male, and cautious. “You were right. They fought last night. He’s… not happy.”

Emily’s eyes gleamed. “Not happy with her, I hope.”

“That’s what it looked like. She went outside after midnight. He confronted her.”

Emily hummed, leaning back, swirling her spoon lazily through her coffee. “And?”

“She lied. Badly.”

That was all she needed to hear. Her smile widened into something dangerous. “Perfect.”

The man hesitated. “You really think this’ll work? Grayson doesn’t seem like—”

“Grayson is predictable,” she cut in. “He hates being lied to. I don’t need to turn him against her completely. I just need to make him doubt her. Once doubt starts, it never stops.”

Silence on the line. Then: “And what about me? I’m not getting dragged into—”

“You’ll get your money,” Emily interrupted smoothly, her voice sweet as honey, deadly as glass. “And when this is over, you’ll disappear, just like before.”

A pause. Then the line went dead.

Emily set the phone down carefully, staring at her reflection in the coffee’s surface.

It’s all falling into place.

Eve thought she could play defence, that she could hide behind her picture-perfect grief and quiet desperation. But Emily knew better. Women like Eve always cracked when pushed hard enough.

And she was going to push until there was nothing left but dust.

Her thoughts flickered to Gabriel—his voice, his hesitation on the phone when she’d called him last night.

He hadn’t agreed to meet. Yet.

But he hadn’t refused, either.

“Patience,” she whispered to herself. “He’ll come.”

She rose from the table, walking toward her bedroom mirror. Her reflection stared back: flawless hair, silk robe, and a faint blush that made her look softer than she felt. A practised illusion.

She touched her abdomen lightly, eyes darkening. The false pregnancy was her masterpiece—a fiction stitched so tightly it had begun to feel real. The documents were fake, yes, but the emotion behind them wasn’t. Gabriel should have been hers. If I hadn’t clung to him like a ghost, he would have been.

And now?

Now she was going to make sure no one—no wife, no man, no secret—ever stood between them again.

She turned toward her desk, where a stack of glossy photos waited in a neat envelope. I and Sebastian—caught in a blurred frame from last night. My hand on his arm, faces too close.

Emily’s smile was pure satisfaction.

Her source had been worth every dollar.

She pulled out her phone and snapped a clean picture of the photo spread. Added a caption before sending it to an anonymous account that specialised in scandal leaks:

“The devoted wife of billionaire Gabriel Grayson was caught meeting another man in secret. Sources say the affair began long before the memory loss…”

She hit send.

Her heart thrummed, wild and alive.

It would only take hours for it to spread—just long enough for Gabriel to see it before I could explain.

She could already imagine the look on my face when I realised I’d been outplayed again.

Emily brushed a strand of hair from her face and whispered to her reflection,

“Round three.”