Chapter 7
For the first time in days, the world seemed to pause.
After the press conference, something shifted. Public opinion softened. Comments online went from calling Linsey a “desperate bride” to admiring her courage. People reposted clips of Collin’s speech with captions like “Find a man who defends you like this.” Others praised how steady she looked standing beside him.
But none of that mattered to Linsey as much as what she felt.
Because every time she replayed Collin’s words in her head—“She didn’t ask for this. She just gave me her dignity.”—her chest swelled with something too warm, too raw to name.
Back at the penthouse, she stood in the bedroom doorway, watching him change into a fresh shirt. The city bathed the room in golden dusk, casting long shadows.
“You’re surprisingly good at speeches,” she said softly.
He looked over his shoulder. “Only when I mean it.”
She walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. “So… what now?”
Collin buttoned his cuff slowly. “Now, we live like a married couple. Go out together. Let the public get used to us. The more real we look, the faster the chaos fades.”
“And after that?”
He turned toward her. “Then we decide if we want to keep pretending.”
The air thickened. Neither of them looked away.
A knock broke the tension. One of Collin’s assistants entered. “Sir, you have a meeting request from Mr. Felix Wells. He says it’s urgent.”
Linsey stood instantly. “No.”
The assistant hesitated. “He insists it concerns your wife.”
Collin gave a sharp nod. “Tell him to meet me tomorrow. Alone.”
After the assistant left, Linsey crossed her arms. “You don’t have to talk to him.”
“I know,” Collin said. “But I want to.”
“Why?”
He stepped closer. “Because if he’s going to try and get you back, I want to watch him fail.”
Linsey’s heart jumped.
The next day, they met Felix in a quiet private lounge downtown. He was already waiting, nervously fidgeting with his shirt collar. The moment Linsey walked in beside Collin, Felix stood, eyes full of hope.
“Linsey,” he started, “you look—”
“Don’t,” she cut in coldly.
Felix looked at Collin. “You really went through with it, huh?”
Collin didn’t blink. “Is that what this meeting’s about? Regret?”
Felix’s smile faltered. “Look, I messed up. I know that. But Joanna—she lied about being hurt. I was tricked.”
Linsey folded her arms. “You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even look back.”
“I was confused!” he said, his voice rising. “You and I had five years—”
“And what did you do with those years?” she snapped. “You ran whenever Joanna snapped her fingers.”
“She’s not important anymore. You are.”
Collin let out a quiet laugh. “You’re only here now because she already won. And you hate losing.”
Felix turned on him. “You think you’re better for her? You don’t know her like I do.”
“I don’t need five years to recognize a good woman,” Collin replied. “I just needed one rainy afternoon and the sense not to throw her away.”
Felix’s face twisted in frustration. “This is ridiculous. You’re using her as a shield.”
“And you used her as a backup plan,” Collin fired back. “Big difference.”
Felix looked at Linsey one last time. “You really don’t feel anything for me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I did. But you burned it. And Collin… he walked into my wreckage and stood still. That means more than five years of waiting.”
Felix left, shoulders hunched, pride shattered.
Afterward, Collin and Linsey rode home in silence.
Only when they were back in the penthouse did he finally speak. “He doesn’t deserve to say your name.”
Linsey looked at him. “You really meant everything you said in there?”
Collin stepped close, his voice low. “Every word.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to.
Instead, she reached up and gently touched his jaw—just once—and then walked past him into the living room.
Collin watched her go, something unreadable in his eyes.
He had money, power, control.
But for the first time in a long time, he realized—he also had something to lose.
And he didn’t intend to lose her.