They had thought the storm would pass once the truth was out. But Zara quickly learned—truth didn't silence devils. It provoked them.
By morning, Damien Vale had struck back.
The media was on fire.
"SEX, LIES, AND CORPORATE POWERPLAYS: Lucien Vale's Mistress Exposed"
"Zara Winters Slept Her Way to the Top—Whistleblowers Reveal New Evidence"
Zara stared at the screen in Lucien's office, her stomach knotting. Dozens of articles, doctored photos, and anonymous sources suddenly emerged. Someone had released security footage—Zara leaving Lucien's penthouse in the early hours of morning. The headlines painted her as a gold-digging opportunist, weaponizing her body to manipulate the CEO of ValeCorp.
It was war now.
She turned to Lucien. "He's using our relationship to destroy me. Again."
Lucien's jaw flexed, fury darkening his features. "And he'll regret it."
"He's not going to stop, Lucien. He's not just attacking me anymore. He's coming for us."
Lucien paced to the window. "Then we give him what he least expects."
Zara crossed her arms. "Which is?"
Lucien looked over his shoulder, something dangerous gleaming in his eyes. "A united front. One he can't fracture."
She raised a brow. "You mean… go public with us?"
"More than that." He turned fully now, striding toward her. "We've tried secrecy. We've tried denial. Neither of those protect you."
Zara's heart pounded. She knew where this was going. And it terrified her.
"You want to make us official."
"I want to marry you," he said simply.
The words hung in the air like a punch.
Zara blinked. "Lucien…"
He moved closer. "I don't care about the timing or what people think. Damien will use everything he can to drag you through hell. But if you're my wife—legally, publicly—it gives us more power. More leverage. I can shield you better. We stop playing defense and take back control."
Zara searched his face. She knew he wasn't proposing out of pure romance—not in this moment. This was strategy. Calculated. Ruthless. But behind the precision in his tone, she saw it—the genuine emotion buried beneath.
She wanted to trust it. Trust him.
But her past screamed caution.
"You're asking me to marry you in the middle of a scandal," she whispered. "When the world thinks I'm sleeping my way into power."
"I'm asking you to burn down the narrative with me."
She looked away, pulse racing. This was more than a PR move. It would define everything. Her future. Her identity. Her revenge.
Her heart.
Lucien stepped forward, gently taking her hand. "You've spent years rebuilding yourself, Zara. I know what this means. I know what I'm asking."
He lowered his voice. "But I also know what we're up against. Damien isn't stopping until one of us is destroyed. And I won't let that be you."
Zara closed her eyes. Her heart felt like it was splitting in two. Part of her still clung to control. The other part—the one that still ached when he looked at her like this—wanted to leap.
She opened her eyes.
"I need time."
Lucien didn't flinch. "Take it. But know this—whether you marry me or not, I'll still fight for you. With you."
That night, Zara sat in the quiet of her apartment, the chaos of the day playing on repeat. The media had painted her as a homewrecker, a corporate temptress, the villain in every angle.
But what if she stopped running from the fire?
What if she became it?
Her phone buzzed. A new message from Damien:
"You were never going to win, Zara. You just don't know when to stay down."
She stared at the words for a long time. Then she deleted them.
No more running. No more silence.
She opened her laptop and started typing. A letter—personal and direct.
To the public.
She didn't sugarcoat it. She addressed the scandal, the footage, the rumors. And then she turned the tide.
"Yes, I've been in a relationship with Lucien Vale.
No, it did not begin with seduction or schemes.
It began with mutual goals, and grew through mutual scars.
I won't apologize for being a woman who fights.
And I won't apologize for loving a man who stood by me when the world turned its back."
She paused.
Then she added one final line:
"You wanted a villain. I gave you a survivor instead."
She hit Send.
By morning, the world would hear her voice. Not Damien's. Not Lucien's. Hers.
And maybe—just maybe—it was time to take the crown she was always meant to wear.