Chapter 28 Some doors close at the altar
THIRD PERSON’S POV.
Before shutting the door Trisha looked both ways down the corridor,making sure no one was close enough to overhear.
Satisfied, she turned the knob, locked the door, and crossed the room briskly to where Serena stood.
“I think you are going to want to sit down for this.” Trisha said, guiding Serena to the bed.
“Trish, enough with the theatrics,”Serena replied, brushing her off.“Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Okay remember when you told me this morning that Damian's position as CEO is being threatened?”
Serena nodded.
“Well… a friend of mine happens to be close to one of the board members at Damian’s company.”
Another nod. Impatient now.
“I met with him this morning,” Trisha continued, her voice measured. “And I told him there was a way to force Damian out.”
Serena’s brow furrowed. Trisha paused, watching her closely, then went on.
“Damian’s line of work relies heavily on public opinion. So if we really want to hurt him, if we want to shake his foundation we have to destroy how the public sees him.”
Serena shot to her feet. “Trisha,” she said sharply, “what did you do?”
Trisha didn’t flinch. She spoke slowly, deliberately, as if weighing each word for maximum impact.
“Tomorrow morning, the Monterra times magazine is going to release an exclusive interview of a woman accusing Damian of rape.”
“Tomorrow morning, the Monterra Times is releasing an exclusive interview. A woman accusing Damian of rape.”
The room seemed to tilt.
A high-pitched ringing filled Serena’s ears as she staggered back a step. “Trisha…” Her voice broke. “Did Damian actually rape this woman?”
“No.”
“Then why…” Serena’s chest burned. “Why the hell would she accuse him of something so vile?”
“Because I paid her to,” Trisha said plainly.
Seeing the fury rise in Serena’s eyes, she added quickly, “It’s the only way to make him vulnerable enough to put him in your debt.”
Serena forced herself to breathe. Trisha had always protected her,had never once acted against her interests.
“How,” Serena asked carefully, “does a false rape accusation put him in my debt?”
Trisha smiled. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
She leaned forward slightly. “When the story breaks, he’ll panic. He’ll look for a way to contain it, to erase it. And eventually, he’ll realize the only shield strong enough is you.”
Serena frowned. “Meaning?”
“He’ll come to you,” Trisha said softly, “with a marriage proposal.”
Serena began pacing the room. “That’s a stretch. Yes, we’ve gotten closer but not close enough for marriage.”
“That’s where you come in,” Trisha replied, rising from the bed. “You plant the idea. You make him believe you’re his only way out.”
“I’m not begging a man to propose to me.”
“You’re not begging,” Trisha said calmly. “You’re presenting him with a reality. One where every other option fails.”
Serena inhaled deeply. “If this is going to work, we’ll need Oscar. Damian trusts him. He’ll know how to steer him.”
Trisha’s lips curved. “That part’s easy. Oscar and I… know each other well.”
Serena blinked. “You and Oscar are sleeping together? How did I not know this?”
“It’s nothing serious,” Trisha shrugged. “He's great in bed but terrible for my reputation.”
Despite everything, Serena let out a small, breathless laugh.
She sobered quickly. “So the article drops. You call Oscar. You get inside his head, and he gets inside Damian’s. I can’t suggest the proposal myself, it would raise suspicion. Hopefully everything will work out as planned.”
“It will.” Trisha said without hesitation.
“We should go back downstairs,” Serena added. “Before they start wondering where we disappeared to.”
They had reached the door when Serena suddenly stopped.
“Trisha,” she said quietly. “No one can ever know about this. If Damian finds out… he’ll never forgive me.”
“I know,” Trisha replied.
She unlocked the door.
Before they stepped out, Serena’s phone buzzed.
Her heart sank.
She didn’t need to look to know who it was from, her tipster. The one who always knew too much.
Still, she forced herself to read it.
BY THIS TIME TOMORROW,IT WILL BE TOO LATE.
SOME DOORS CLOSE AT THE ALTAR.
Two lines.
It was the longest message the tipster had ever sent.
Serena read it again. And again. Each word felt deliberate, weighted, as though it had been chosen to wound.
Trisha took the phone from her hand and read the message aloud, slowly.
One word lingered.
ALTAR.
Their eyes met.
“Jonathan and Clara are getting married tomorrow.” They said in unison.
Suddenly the room felt quiet. The noise from downstairs faded out, the people partying below them didn’t matter anymore.
All that mattered now was this message, this revelation. And the ticking clock it had started.
“What are we going to do?” Trisha asked, her confidence from earlier completely shattered.
Serena didn’t respond immediately.
She looked at the screen one last time, then lifted her gaze to Trisha,determination set in her eyes.
“Call your editor at the Times,” Serena said. “Tell him there’s been a change of plans. He has to release the article right now.”
Trisha straightened. “Tonight?”
“Yes.As for Oscar, you have to call him first thing in the morning.”
“And what about you?” Trisha asked.
Serena’s lips curved faintly. “I’ll be downstairs,” she said. “In the right place, at the right time. Ready to offer Damian a shoulder to cry on when the world turns on him.”
Trisha nodded, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Sounds like a plan.”
She stepped back, already pulling out her phone. “I’ll make the call. I’ll see you downstairs.”
They shared a brief hug.
Then Serena slipped back into the party, seamless and composed, as if she had never left at all.
The party carried on like normal.
Glasses clinked. Laughter rose and fell.The pianist shifted into something lighter but Serena moved through it all like a ghost.
She positioned herself carefully,close enough to observe, far enough not to draw attention. From where she stood, she could see Damian across the room, he seemed relaxed with a drink in his hand, unaware that the ground beneath him had begun to crack.
Shortly after, her phone vibrated in her palm.
MONTERA TIMES;BREAKING NEWS.
She didn’t open it.
Around her, a few phones began to light up. Subtle at first. A few furrowed brows. A pause in conversation. Someone turning their screen away instinctively, as if the words might be contagious. A group leaning in to read the words shining through a brightly lit phone screen.
Then the murmurs started, low, startled, spreading in uneven ripples through the room.
Damian felt the energy shift.
He glanced around, sensing the change, the way conversations stalled when he drew near. People stared at him in confusion, or was it doubt?
His phone buzzed.
Once.
Then again.
He frowned and finally looked down.
Serena watched his face change.
The color drained slowly, as if someone was gradually dimming the lights behind his eyes. His jaw tightened. He read the headline once, then again, scrolling with a stillness that frightened even her.
Across the room, Clara gasped loudly, intentionally. Jonathan was beside her and they both turned to look at Damian accusingly.
Serena exhaled.
This was it.
Her first move on the chessboard.
She stepped forward just as Damian lowered his phone, his composure cracking just a little.
Their eyes met.
And in that moment Serena saw it, he wasn’t the powerful CEO. He wasn’t the untouchable man.
Just someone whose world had begun to fall apart.
She crossed the space between them.
“Damian,” she said softly, her voice steady, warm. “Let’s go get some air”
Before he could respond, she slipped her hand through his arm and guided him toward the exit, moving quickly, decisively.
Her steps never faltered
But inside, her stomach churned.
How did you look a man in the eye and comfort him…
when you were the reason his world was falling apart?
The door closed behind them.
And the lie walked out with her.