Chapter 9
I let out a bitter laugh
Declan Price, at his core, was an incredibly self–absorbed, domineering man.
What he wanted was a wife who catered to him unquestioningly–someone who would toil and obey without complaint–rather than a little princess who needed constant attention and pampering.
His face flushed red, then paled, as Sierra’s public outburst tore through his pride, leaving him exposed.
“Enough! Stop embarrassing yourself!” he growled, grabbing Sierra’s arm to drag her away.
“I’m not going!” Sierra held her ground, tears and snot streaming down her face. “Evie, I’m begging you–just leave us alone!”
“You’ve already got a great guy,” she sobbed. “Why are you still stringing Declan along? Please… just let him go!”
Her words twisted the truth, casting her as the wronged wife while I looked like the interloper. The crowd around us, unaware of the real story, began eyeing me with suspicion.
Anger coursed through me.
Julian Blake squeezed my hand, pulling me behind him, then stepped forward, his towering frame radiating authority.
“Mr. and Mrs. Price,” he said evenly, “Evelyn and I are in a legitimate relationship. I suggest you choose your words carefully.”
“If you continue to harass or slander my fiancée, my lawyers will be in touch. And trust me, their fees aren’t cheap.”
He delivered the last line with a casual sting
Declan and Sierra’s faces drained of color. They knew full well that Julian’s status and resources could destroy them without breaking a sweat
Declan shot Julian a venomous glare, jealousy and resentment blazing in his eyes. But in the end, he grabbed the sobbing Sierra and slunk away.
Julian turned to me, brow furrowed. “You okay, Evie?”
I shook my head, my heart heavy as if tied in knots. I looked up at him, my voice catching. “Julian you just said ‘fiancée‘?”
His gaze flickered, then steadied. “A spur–of the–moment tactic,” he explained. “To shut them up for good.”
‘Oh,” I murmured, unsure if I should feel relieved or disappointed.
“But…” His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. If you were willing, I’d make it real in a heartbeat.”
My pulse raced, uncontrollable. I dropped my eyes. “I need time.”
“Fair enough. Let me drive you home.”
The ride was quiet, the car heavy with unspoken tension.
A few days later, the internet exploded with vicious posts about me. Headlines screamed:
[Shocker! Rising Designer Ditches Poor Boyfriend for a Wealthy Catch, Meddles in Best Friend’s Marriage!]
The posts painted me as a gold–digging opportunist
They claimed I had rejected Declan during a blind date, only to grow jealous when he married my best friend Sierra, Then, supposedly, I seiluced him again while cozying up to a wealthy “sugar daddy” to rub it in his face.
It didn’t take a genius to know who was behind this smear campaign.
My hands trembled as I scrolled through the vile comments, my body chilled with dread.
[This woman’s disgusting. She doesn’t want the guy but won’t let anyone else have him?]
[That dude’s blind for picking trash like her.]
[I feel so bad for her pregnant friend. What a backstabbing nightmare.]
Sierra was out for blood, determined to ruin my reputation.
Just as panic started to take hold, my phone rang. It was Julian.
“Isawi
“I saw what’s going on online,” he said, calm and steady. “Don’t worry, and don’t respond. I’ve got this.”
“But-”
“Trust me.”
17
Those two simple words somehow steadied my racing heart.
