The mention of my brother—the man who had arranged my marriage—made Caleb’s jaw tighten, but his resolve was quick to return.
“She’s under my care now,” he said firmly. “If she’s wrong, I have to correct it.”
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Wrong? Caleb, what exactly did I do wrong? In business or in life, evidence comes before judgment. And here you are, passing sentence on me without a shred of proof. Is this your idea of leadership?”
His jaw clenched, fists tightening. “There were no cameras in the hallway, Valencia. You knew it—and thought you could get away with it.”
I froze, stunned by his unyielding conviction. “No cameras?” I scoffed. “Then how can you possibly be certain it was me?”
“Why would Marina lie?” he snapped, his eyes flashing. “She isn’t that kind of person.”
“And I am?” My voice trembled, thick with the sting of betrayal.
Seven years. Seven years I had stood by him, through triumphs, crises, and private moments meant for no one else. And yet, in the presence of Marina’s tears, all those years vanished. One word from her outweighed everything we had built together.
Realizing there was no point in arguing further, I turned on my heel. “Believe whatever you want,” I muttered hollowly.
Caleb’s angry voice followed me down the corridor, commanding me to stay. But I didn’t look back. The sting of his slap still burned on my cheek—a cruel reminder of my position in his world.
Returning to the dining room was out of the question. I refused to ruin the evening for my colleagues, who had been nothing but kind to me. Instead, I walked to the front desk, settled the bill, and sent a quick message:
"Something urgent came up. Enjoy the meal and drinks—it’s on me."
With that, I left, each step heavy with the weight of the night pressing down on my shoulders, my heart a bitter mix of exhaustion and quiet fury.
Dragging my exhausted body back to the apartment I had shared with Caleb for seven long years, I paused at the doorway, staring at the place that had once felt like a sanctuary. The sleek marble floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the custom-designed furniture—everything had once seemed perfect. Now, it all felt like a cruel, mocking joke.