Married for Luck, Trapped by Fate
Chapter 6: Public Scandal, Private Pain
A week later, a socialite I was on decent terms with sent me a message.
She was one of those women who always knew everything before anyone else. Her text was short, but the subtext was clear: people were talking.
She asked if I was really divorcing Harrison, and advised me to relax and hold onto my position as Mrs. Whitmore.
She sent a string of emojis—champagne glasses, diamond rings. “Don’t be stupid, Autumn. Women would kill for your life.”
Harrison posted on his Instagram story. In the screenshot she sent, it was them at an event.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. The image was blurry, but there was no mistaking the way Harrison looked at Vanessa—like she was the only person in the room. I closed my eyes, wishing I could erase the memory, but it was burned into my mind, sharp and unrelenting. The world spun on, indifferent to my pain, and I was left standing in the wreckage, wondering how much longer I could pretend.
