Through my phone, I watched the scene unfold in the apartment via surveillance footage.
I felt nothing. With a dismissive tap, I shut off the remote surveillance, cutting them from my sight.
Then I turned to Shelly and gently picked her up.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”
Back at the hospital, the footage of Johnson Lachelle attacking Chadwick Gabriel had gone viral–landing squarely at the
top of the trending topics.
Steven Wilson, with an almost gleeful curiosity, had a field day recounting every detail to me.
“Your ex and your brother–what’s going on with them?”
“You leaving should’ve made things easier for them, right? Now they can love Vivian openly, no guilt, no secrets.”
I smiled, shaking my head.
“Maybe I left too suddenly. They just couldn’t process it fast enough.”
Soon, headlines began spinning in a new direction.
Chadwick Gabriel forces mistress to abort child.
Vivian wept on camera, sobbing hysterically about being discarded, abandoned, how unfair it all was.
But Chadwick didn’t flinch. He even went public about the night he was drunk–explaining how Vivian had bribed the hotel staff, timing everything perfectly to seduce him.
Vivian Ayla’s reputation crumbled overnight.
The internet exploded:
“Vivian almost pulled off the perfect replacement act.”
“Disgusting. She’s vile, and he’s no better–drunk? Please.”
“Throw the whole couple out of Canada.”
The scandal rocked the Gabriel Group. Stocks plummeted. Brand trust eroded.
But Chadwick didn’t seem to care.
He spent a fortune building a case that landed Vivian behind bars.
With the evidence of premeditated assault and fraud, she got a sentence that would keep her locked up for years–if not a decade.
After it was all over, Chadwick held a press conference.
“Jess,” he said in front of reporters, “I won’t make the same mistake again.”
“I won’t pressure you. If you need space, I’ll give it to you.”
Chapter 8
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Another six months passed.
Steven and I had settled in a peaceful coastal town with Shelly.
She was a quiet, thoughtful little girl–so sweet it made you feel sympathy toward her.
The three of us lived a calm, gentle life.
One afternoon, I was out in the garden, watering the flowers.
And that’s when I saw them–Chadwick and Johnson–standing outside the white picket fence.
Their eyes were ravenous and longing.
The sea breeze tousled Chadwick’s hair, once so arrogantly styled. Now his face was drawn, shadows of grief and obsession etched into every line.
Johnson had changed too.
One look and I could tell he’d lost too much weight.
His suit hung loose, like it belonged to someone else.
The warm, reassuring smile he always had when looking at me… was gone. His eyes were dulled with remorse.
Our eyes met. His lips trembled. But no words came out.
“You’re here,” I said evenly.
I sounded as calm as if I were greeting two strangers.
Chadwick struggled to speak, his voice rough.
“Jess… come home with us.”
“No.”
I didn’t look up. Just kept watering the flowers.
My indifference hit Chadwick like a blade, slicing straight through his chest. Panicked, he stepped forward.
“Jess, let’s start over, please. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again.”
1 laughed–but with a plastered–on smile.
“Mr. Gabriel, we’re long past that.”
Johnson finally found his voice, hoarse and tight.
“Jess… come back with your brother. Let me make things right. Please.”
I cut him off.
“It’s over. I have a new life here.”
The day Johnson allowed Vivian to replace me… I lost my brother.
At that moment, Steven walked out of the house with Shelly in his arms. Chapter 8
He wrapped an arm around me casually, protectively, and looked at the two men outside the fence.
“So… these two are?”
I looked up at him and smiled. Then turned to face Chadwick and Johnson, looping my arm around Steven’s.
“This is my husband, Steven Wilson,” I said clearly. “And this is our daughter.”
My words struck them like sudden, deafening thunderclaps, but none more so than Chadwick.
His eyes red in fury, locked onto Steven’s hand at my waist. His chest heaved.
“You… you married someone else?” His voice cracked and shook violently.
Steven smiled–deliberate, proud. A little smug.
“Sure did. We got our marriage license six months ago.”
“Six months?” Johnson’s head snapped up in disbelief.
That was right after I left the country.
“No… that’s not possible.” Chadwick’s voice cracked. “You’re my wife. How could you marry someone else?”
Chapter 8
