Chapter 10
The night after Linsey’s interview, the penthouse buzzed with silence. Not the awkward kind. The kind that meant something important had settled between them—something honest.
Collin stood on the balcony, the wind teasing his shirt sleeves, phone in hand. Dozens of missed calls from board members, sponsors, and clients. Some were panicking. Others wanted to distance themselves.
But all he could think about was how Linsey had sat in front of the entire country and said, “Let them dig. We won’t break.”
She didn’t just say it.
She meant it.
He turned when he heard the soft pad of her footsteps behind him.
“They still calling?” she asked.
He nodded. “Some want answers. Some want apologies.”
“And what do you want?”
Collin looked at her—really looked. She was in one of his shirts again, sleeves too long, her hair messy from the wind. But she was radiant in her own quiet way. Not polished. Not rehearsed.
Just real.
“I want you to know I don’t regret marrying you,” he said.
She blinked, caught off guard. “Not even a little?”
He shook his head. “Not even for a second.”
They stood there for a moment, facing the skyline together.
Then she said softly, “People are still watching us.”
“Let them,” he replied.
She turned to him. “There’s something I need to ask.”
“Anything.”
“If I hadn’t been abandoned that day… would you still have married me?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached for her hand and placed it gently over his heart.
“I waited five years for a reason to stand beside you. I didn’t know when or how, but when I saw you standing alone in that gown—like the world had turned its back on you—I knew. That was my moment.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“You could’ve walked away, too.”
“I already did once,” he whispered. “I wasn’t going to do it again.”
She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Not because he was strong. But because he stayed.
No one had ever stayed before.
The next day, the narrative online began to shift again. A popular blog posted side-by-side clips: one of Felix walking out on Linsey at the altar, and one of Collin standing beside her at the press conference.
The headline read:
“One left her. The other chose her.”
Underneath, thousands of comments flooded in—most of them in support.
And for the first time since their sudden marriage, strangers began rooting for them.
But not everyone was clapping.
In a sleek office downtown, Joanna slammed her phone onto the table. “We need to change tactics,” she hissed.
Felix, slouched in the corner, muttered, “It’s over. The public loves them.”
“No,” Joanna said coldly. “The public loves stories. All we have to do is rewrite this one.”
She picked up a folder. “I have what we need. Her past. Her real one. The one even Collin doesn’t know.”
Felix frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Joanna opened the file and smiled. “Before she was Felix’s fiancée, Linsey Brooks wasn’t just some sweet girl from nowhere. She was the girl no one believed in. The one with a sealed record. The one who lied about her past just to survive.”
Felix stood up, stunned. “Wait—Linsey has a record?”
Joanna’s eyes glittered. “She has secrets too.”
And she was going to use them.