Miles was cornered.
I slammed the door shut behind me, cutting off the faint hum of the gala below. My heels clicked against the polished wood floor as I approached him. He stood by the window, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders tense as if bracing for impact.
"Eliza," I said, my voice sharp and unrelenting. "She had plenty to say tonight."
He didn't move, didn't turn to face me. The silence between us was a living thing, suffocating and unyielding.
"Say something," I demanded, my voice cracking with frustration. "Anything."
Miles finally turned, his gaze icy and detached. "What do you want me to say, Riley?"
"The truth!" I snapped, the word ricocheting off the walls. "Who is she? And what does she mean by 'messy details'?"
His jaw tightened, and he exhaled slowly, as if summoning patience from some deep, hidden well. "Eliza likes to stir the pot. She thrives on drama."
"Don't deflect," I warned, my voice trembling. "This isn't about her. It's about you. What are you hiding, Miles?"
His silence stretched, and I felt the cracks in my composure widen. The photograph, her smug whispers, his every calculated dodge—it was all too much.
"Do you have any idea how humiliating it is?" My voice broke, raw and bitter. "Standing there, watching her drape herself all over you while I'm left wondering what the hell is going on?"
Miles stepped closer, his expression dark and unreadable. "I told you to drop it, Riley."
"No." I met his glare head-on. "Not this time. Whatever this is—whatever you're hiding—it's going to destroy everything if you don't come clean."
His lips parted, but no words came. For a fleeting moment, vulnerability flickered in his eyes, like a shadow caught in the light. Then it was gone, replaced by a cold, steely resolve.
"You don't know what you're asking," he said quietly.
"Then explain it to me!" My voice was a plea now, desperate and raw. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're keeping secrets that could ruin us—ruin the family."
His laugh was bitter, a sharp, humorless sound that cut through the air. "You think this family isn't already ruined?"
The words hit like a blow, leaving me reeling. "What does that mean?"
Miles turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a long moment, he said nothing, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. Then, without warning, he spun back around, his eyes blazing.
"You want the truth?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Fine. Richard isn't just some business associate. He's my father."
The air left the room, and my knees threatened to give out beneath me. "What?"
"You heard me." His tone was harsh, unforgiving. "He's my father. The man you've been working for—defending—is the same man who walked out on me and my mother when I was a kid."
I stared at him, struggling to process the weight of his confession. "You… you never said—"
"Why would I?" he snapped, his voice bitter. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of. And now, thanks to you digging where you don't belong, the whole damn house of cards is about to come crashing down."
I shook my head, disbelief coursing through me. "You think this is my fault? You think I'm the one who—"
A sharp gasp cut through the air, and we both froze.
Vivian stood in the doorway, her face pale as a ghost. Her wide eyes darted between us, the shock and betrayal in them unmistakable.
"You…" Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with emotion. "Is it true?"
The room felt like it had tilted on its axis, the weight of her presence crushing the fragile equilibrium we'd been teetering on.
Miles opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
And in that silence, the world as I knew it crumbled.
Riley's world is turned upside down as Vivian overhears the explosive confession, setting the stage for a confrontation that could unravel everything.