The Calm Before the Storm
The morning after the gala was strangely… quiet.
For the first time in weeks, the headlines weren't tearing me apart. "Carter Couple Shines at Charity Gala," one article read. Another praised Jackson's speech, calling it "raw and authentic," which I knew he'd hate because it made him sound like a contestant on a reality show. Still, I couldn't help but smile. It wasn't perfect, but for once, it felt like we were winning.
Jackson strolled into the kitchen, carrying two mugs of coffee. He set one down in front of me with a flourish, grinning like he'd just solved world hunger.
I took one sip and nearly gagged. "What is this? Poison?"
"Excuse me, it's artisanal," he said, leaning casually against the counter. "You wouldn't understand."
"It tastes like regret," I muttered, setting it down.
His grin widened. "Careful, Mrs. Carter. I'm starting to think you don't appreciate me."
I rolled my eyes, but there was something easy and natural about the moment that made me pause. For the first time, I realized I felt… comfortable. Happy, even. That thought alone was terrifying.
Before I could dwell on it, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw my father's name. The warm bubble around me popped instantly.
---
The Bad News
I hesitated before answering. "Dad?"
"Lila, we have a problem." His voice was tense, clipped. "Ethan's escalated things. He's filed a formal legal complaint against Jackson. He's claiming the marriage was a calculated move to gain access to the Harper family's resources."
"What?!" I shot up from my chair, my heart pounding.
Edward sighed. "He's saying the entire thing was a scam. With his connections, people are going to believe him. And worse, he's dragged Harper Enterprises into it. The auditors are already asking questions about our financial stability."
The air seemed to leave the room. "You're saying he's trying to take down the company?"
"Yes," Edward said grimly. "And if you don't cut ties with Jackson, the fallout could destroy us."
The words hung in the air like a guillotine.
After I hung up, I sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the swirling dregs of Jackson's terrible coffee. Ethan wasn't just targeting Jackson—he was coming for everything my family had built. And they were expecting me to fix it.
Part of me was furious. At Ethan, for stooping so low. At my parents, for putting this all on me. But the worst part was the small voice in the back of my mind whispering, What if they're right?
---
Jackson Finds Out
When I told Jackson about Ethan's latest move, he didn't explode with anger like I expected. Instead, he went very still, his jaw tightening.
"Let him come at me," he said finally, his voice calm. "It's not like I haven't been here before."
"This isn't just about you, Jackson," I snapped. "He's dragging my family into it now."
He hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. For the first time, he looked… uncertain. "If it's too much, Lila, just say the word. I'll walk away."
I froze, his words hitting me like a slap. "Stop doing that," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
"Doing what?"
"Acting like walking away is the solution to everything," I shot back. "You think that'll fix this? It won't. And I'm not letting Ethan win. Not this time."
For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he said softly.
---
The Plan
I wasn't going to sit back and let Ethan destroy everything. If he wanted a war, I'd give him one.
I remembered the anonymous tip I'd received about Ethan's behind-the-scenes schemes. With Jackson's help, I decided to dig deeper. We needed something solid—evidence that would not only clear Jackson's name but also expose Ethan for the manipulative snake he was.
"Know any good journalists?" I asked Jackson.
His grin widened. "As a matter of fact, I do."
---
As we worked, Jackson kept insisting on taking the blame publicly.
"If it'll save your family, I'll say whatever they want me to say," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Hell, I'll tattoo 'Scam Artist' on my forehead if it helps."
"Absolutely not," I snapped.
He raised an eyebrow. "Why not? I've got a good forehead for it."
I glared at him. "Because we're in this together. And I'm not letting you take the fall for Ethan's lies."
---
The Turning Point
While combing through his old emails, Jackson suddenly froze.
"Holy—" He turned the laptop toward me, his eyes wide.
It was a contract between Ethan and a former client, one that proved Ethan had been orchestrating shady deals for years. It wasn't just fraud—it was enough to sink him completely.
"This is it," I whispered, my pulse racing.
---
We handed the evidence to Samantha Quinn, a journalist Jackson trusted. Her exposé hit the internet like a bombshell:
"The Real Ethan Grey: Fraud, Manipulation, and the Downfall of a Business Mogul."
Within hours, the story went viral. Clients began pulling out of Ethan's deals, and the investigation into Harper Enterprises shifted focus to Ethan's shady practices.
---
Ethan's Downfall
For once, Margaret Harper was speechless. When the dust settled, she finally turned to me and said, "Well… I suppose you handled that rather well."
It wasn't exactly an apology, but I'd take it.
---
Ethan confronted me one last time, cornering me in the lobby of Harper Enterprises.
"You think you've won?" he snarled, his composure cracking. "This isn't over."
I met his glare head-on, my voice steady. "Yes, it is. Now get out of my way."
---
A New Beginning
That night, back at our apartment, Jackson handed me a glass of wine as we sat on the couch, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.
"So," he said, leaning back with a lazy grin. "We survived."
"Barely," I replied, taking a sip. "You're lucky I'm so charming."
"Ah, yes," he said mock-seriously. "The true hero of this story."
For a moment, we just looked at each other. Then, Jackson reached out, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.
"You're not half bad at this whole saving-the-day thing, Mrs. Carter," he said softly.
My heart skipped a beat, and I realized, for the first time, that I didn't want this—us—to end.
"For the first time, I wasn't just fighting for my family or my reputation. I was fighting for us."