Chapter 58
Chapter 58:
“Look at this comment,” she said, scrolling. “‘A match made in hell.’ The internet agrees with me p>
Gaston leaned against the counter, watching her. He didn’t smile. His eyes were calculating.
“It looks staged,” he said quietly.
“Staged p>
Jocelyn looked more closely at the photo. Aspen’s hair was messy, but her face was turned perfectly toward the camera.
𝗣𝘋𝖥𝗌 oո
“She set him up,” Jocelyn realized. “She wanted to lock him down p>
“Look at the stock ticker,” Gaston said.
Jocelyn opened her finance app. Douglas Tech was down eight percent in pre-market trading. The board would be screaming for stability.
“He has to marry her now,” Jocelyn whispered. “Or the board will oust him for moral turpitude p>
“Exactly.” Gaston took the iPad back. “This isn’t just a scandal. It’s a trap p>
Back in Room 808, Kieran’s phone was vibrating off the bedside table. It was his PR crisis manager.
“Kieran,” the voice was shrill. “It’s a bloodbath. The investors are pulling out. The only way to spin this is a ‘passionate engagement celebration.’ You have to announce the wedding date. Today p>
Kieran looked at Aspen, who was applying lipstick in the bathroom mirror. She was humming.
The door had been unlocked. The paparazzi had known exactly which room. Kieran looked drugged, not simply drunk. And Aspen looked ready for her close-up.
She had won. She had checkmated him in his own bed.
“Fine,” Kieran said, his voice dead. “Set up the press conference p>
The press room at Douglas Tech headquarters was a shark tank. Reporters were packed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with stale coffee and aggression.
Kieran stood at the podium. He looked like a man marching to the gallows, though his suit was impeccable. Aspen stood beside him, clutching his arm with a grip that appeared affectionate but was likely cutting off his circulation.
“We are very happy,” Kieran said into the microphone. His voice was flat, robotic. “Aspen is the love of my life. We got carried away. We apologize for the… informality of the photos p>
“When is the wedding?” a reporter shouted.
“Next month,” Aspen chirped, leaning into the mic. She flashed the ring — the one Kieran had bought months ago, the one he had tried to give Jocelyn in his mind a thousand times. “It’s going to be a fairy tale p>
Cameras flashed.
In her office at the Wolfe Hotel, Jocelyn watched the livestream on her laptop. A wave of nausea rolled through her. Not jealousy — just pure, unadulterated pity. Kieran looked hollow.
Her office door banged open.
Uncle Vincent stood in the doorway, sweating profusely, his comb-over plastered to his forehead.
“We have a problem,” he wheezed.
Jocelyn closed the laptop. “Did you forget to pay the electric bill again, Vincent p>
“Worse. The police are in the lobby. They found residue of an illegal substance in Room 808 p>
Jocelyn stood up. “Kieran’s room p>