Chapter 56

Rain lashed against the penthouse windows, matching the storm brewing inside. Rose stared at Stefan across the living room, his posture rigid as he clutched his phone in a white-knuckled grip. The text message glowed on the screen between them, another buyer canceling their order, another financial blow to her already crumbling fashion empire.

"That's the third cancellation today," Rose said,fighting to keep her voice steady. "Bergdorf claims 'brand association concerns.' As if they've suddenly developed a moral conscience."

Stefan didn't look up. "Did yousleep with him too?"

"What?"

"The Bergdorf buyer." His voice held a coldness she'd never heard before. "Did you sleep with him like you did with Jonathan Hayes? Like you did with Lord Hartley? Like you apparently did with half of London while I was here, thinking about you every day?"

Rose flinched as if he'd slapped her. "That's not fair."

"Fair?" Stefan finally looked up, eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. "The photos are everywhere, Rose. The financial records linking you to Bessonov. The evidence keeps piling up, and every time I think l've seen the worst, something new emerges."

She moved to the bar, pouring herself a drink with hands that trembled slightly. Three weeks since the first scandal photos had emerged. Three weeks of constant new revelations, each one more damaging than the last. Three weeks of watching everything she'd built crumble beneath her.

"Those photos are from years ago," she said,the defense sounding weak even to her own ears. "Before us.Before..."

"Before us?" Stefan laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor."The timestamps, Rose. Did you think no one would notice the timestamps? You were on that yacht with Bessonov the same week you called me from 'Paris' to say how much you missed me. The same month you told me you were focusing on your fashion education."

Rose drained her glass, the alcohol burning a path down her throat. Outside, lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the rain-drenched city below.

"Everyone has a past," she tried again. "Things they're not proud of. Things they'd rather forget."

"A past is one thing. Lies are another." Stefan moved to the window, putting distance between them. "I could have accepted mistakes, Rose. I could have understood poor choices. What I can't accept is that everything, everything, you ever told me was manufactured. Calculated."

The truth of his words stung more than she wanted to admit. Her entire life had been a series of careful calculations, strategic moves to achieve the position,the power, the prestige she'd always craved.

"That's not true," she said, voice smaller than intended."My feelings for you were real. Are real."

"Were they?" He turned to face her again. "Or was I just part of your plan? A stepping stone to the life you wanted? The same way my company was a stepping stone for your fashion line's shipping needs?"

Rose set down her glass with more force than necessary. "That's not fair. My business success came from talent, from hard work, from..."

"From sleeping with your mentor's husband to steal design concepts?" Stefan cut in. "From using Bessonov's money to fund youur first collection? From manipulating fashion editors into featuring your work?"

Each accusation landed like a physical blow. All the carefully hidden truths, all the meticulously buried ecrets, exposed for everyone to see. For Stefan to see.

"You don't understand," she said, desperation creeping into her voice. "I did what I had to do. Coming from nothing, having nothing... you can't judge me for fighting my way up."

"Coming from nothing?" Stefan's expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Your parents are wealthy.You grew up with every advantage."

Rose froze, realizing her mistake too late. Another calculation error in a month filled with them. Another slip that revealed more than intended.

"I meant... professionally," she backtracked quickly. "In the fashion world, no one takes you seriously without the right connections. I had to make my own way."

Stefan studied her, suspicion replacing confusion."You've never talked about your life before the Lewises adopted you. Not once in all the years I've known you."

"Because it doesn't matter." Rose turned away,reaching for the bottle again. "That was a different life.A different person."

"Was it?" Stefan moved closer, his voice softening dangerously. "Or is this just another story you've constructed? Another manipulation to get what you want?"

Rose's hand tightened around her glass. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I'm finally starting to." He picked up his phone again, swiping through more headlines about her scandals. "All these photos. All these stories. They're not just about affairs or business dealings. They're showing me who you really are, Rose. Who you've always been."

"And who is that?" she demanded, anger flaring to mask the fear beneath.

"Someone who takes what she wants, regardless of who gets hurt." Stefan's voice was steady now, his initial rage cooling into something more dangerous,clarity. "Someone who sees people as stepping stones rather than human beings. Someone who's been playing a role for so long she's forgotten there was ever anything genuine underneath."

The assessment hit too close to truth. Rose switched tactics,moving toward him with practiced vulnerability,eyes softening in the way she knew had always worked on him before.

"Stefan, please. This is all just a misunderstanding. A smear campaign by someone who wants to destroy me. Destroy us." She reached for his hand. "We can get through this together. Save both our businesses.Show everyone they can't tear us apart."

He pulled away from her touch. "That's just it, Rose.I don't think there's an 'us' to save. I'm not sure there ever was."

The rejection staggered her. Stefan had always been her safety net. Her sure thing. The man who would stand by her no matter what, who had carried a torch for her even through his marriage to Camille.

"You don't mean that," she whispered.

"I wish I didn't." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "You know what keeps me awake at night? Not the company collapsing. Not my father's disappointment. It's thinking about how I treated Camille. How I was cold to her, distant, always comparing her to some idealized version of you l'd created in my head."

Rose felt the conversation sliding into dangerous territory. "Camille is gone, Stefan. We've both mourned her. This isn't about her."

"Isn't it?" His eyes locked with hers. "I left a good woman who loved me genuinely for... what? The fantasy of you l'd been carrying since college? A woman who doesn't actually exist?"

"I exist," Rose snapped, anger sparking again. "I'm standing right here, fighting for us while you throw away everything we've built because of some old photos,some business mistakes..."

"It's not about the photos!" Stefan's voice rose,startling her into silence. "It's about the pattern they reveal. It's about realizing that the woman I've spent years pining for is a construction. A carefully calculated image designed to get exactly what you want."

"That's not true," she insisted, but the protest sounded hollow even to her own ears.

"Isn't it?" Stefan picked up the society pages from the coffee table, where their engagement photo had once been prominently featured. Now replaced by coverage of her scandals and his company's financial troubles."Tell me something real, Rose. One thing that isn't part of your master plan. One genuine emotion you've ever felt."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. What could she say that he would believe now? What truth could penetrate the wall of suspicion she'd inadvertently built through years of calculation and control?

"I love you," she said finally, voice small. "That's real."

Stefan studied her face for a long moment. "Maybe you do. In your way. But I don't think your version of love looks anything like mine."

He moved toward the door, picking up the overnight bag he'd packed earlier. The sight sent panic coursing through Rose's veins.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

"My family's estate. Father thinks we need to present a united front during the company crisis." Stefan's voice was flat, emotionless. "But the truth is, I need space to think. About the business. About us. About who I've become trying to hold onto someone who may never have existed at all."

Rose moved quickly, blocking his path to the door."You can't leave. Not now. Not when both our businesses are under attack. Don't you see? Someone is targeting us. The same person who's going after your company is destroying my brand. We need to stand together."

"Maybe." Stefan gently moved her aside. "But right now, I'm not sure I know who I'd be standing with."

The words cut deeper than any accusation about her past. For years, Rose had maintained perfect control over how others perceived her. Had crafted an image so flawless, so compelling that even her indiscretions were overlooked, her manipulations excused, her calculated moves mistaken for genuine connection.

Now that carefully constructed facade was crumbling,revealing the emptiness beneath. And for the first time in her adult life, Rose felt real fear.

Not fear of financial ruin, though that loomed ever larger with each canceled order. Not fear of social humiliation, though the society pages now painted her as a pariah rather than a darling.

But fear of losing the one person who had wanted her,or at least, the version of her she'd presented,consistently for years. The one person whose devotion she'd counted on as a constant in her calculated rise to power.

"Stefan, please." She abandoned pride, abandoned calculation, abandoned the careful masks she'd worn for so long. "I need you."

He paused at the door, his back to her. For a moment,hope flared in her chest. Then he spoke, voice quiet but firm.

"The problem is, Rose, I don't think you need anyone.Not really. Not in any way that matters."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow hurt more than if he'd slammed it. Rose stood frozen in the entryway, the sound of rain against windows the only noise in the suddenly empty penthouse.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, another news alert, no doubt. Another scandal unearthed. Another piece of her carefully constructed life exposed for all to see.

She moved to the window instead, watching Stefan emerge from the building below, overnight bag in hand. Even from this height, she could see the slump of his shoulders, the defeat in his posture as he climbed into the waiting car.

Something tightened in her chest, an unfamiliar ache she couldn't immediately identify. Was this what real pain felt like? Not the calculated shows of emotion she'd performed throughout her life,but genuine loss?

The irony wasn't lost on her. After years of taking what she wanted, of manipulating situations and people to achieve her goals, she might have finally developed genuine feelings for Stefan just in time to lose him.

Lightning flashed again, illuminating her reflection in the glass, designer clothes, perfect makeup, not a hair out of place despite the emotional storm that had just torn through the apartment. The perfect exterior hiding the growing panic beneath.

Her phone buzzed again. This time she picked it up, expecting another media alert about her scandals.

Instead, a new headline made her blood run cold:

"TECH TRILLIONAIRE ALEXANDER PIERCE AND KANE HEIRESS CAMILLE: POWER COUPLE IN THE MAKING?"

Below it, photos from a charity gala showed the notoriously private Alexander Pierce placing a diamond necklace around the neck of Victoria Kane's mysterious adopted daughter. The woman looked radiant, genuinely touched by the gesture.

Rose stared at the image, something nagging at the edges of her consciousness. Something about the woman's profile, about the way she tilted her head slightly as Pierce leaned close.

Something hauntingly familiar that she couldn't quite place.

As she studied the photo, her mind racing to identify the sense of recognition, another alert appeared. Her fashion line's main manufacturing partner had just pulled out of their contract, citing "irreparable brand damage" and "ethical concerns."

The final nail in her professional coffin.

Rose sank onto the sofa, phone still clutched in her hand,the rain lashing the windows matching the storm inside her. Everything she'd built, everything she'd schemed for, everything she'd sacrificed others to achieve, all crumbling around her in a matter of weeks.

And for the first time in her carefully calculated life,Rose Lewis had no contingency plan.