Chapter 2

I woke up and yesterday's anger had already faded, replaced by a suffocating clarity.

I grabbed my phone. The screen showed dozens of unread messages. Most were from Kelly, plus several order cancellation notices.

Just as I was about to check the details, the phone rang. It was my mom.

"Harper, honey, I just saw the news..." Her voice carried that careful kind of concern. "Are you okay?"

"What news?" I sat up straight.

"Austin Morning News. Cole and that woman were doing an interview."

My stomach instantly clenched. "What did they say?"

"You'd better see for yourself, sweetheart."

After hanging up, I immediately turned on the TV and switched to the local news channel. Just in time for the replay.

On the screen, Cole and Blaire sat side by side in the studio, both dressed in perfectly coordinated business attire.

The host was asking with a bright smile, "Cole, your collaboration with Blaire looks very promising. Can you tell us about this partnership?"

Cole's answer made my heart nearly stop: "Blaire has an exceptional business mind and international perspective. Our collaboration isn't just business—it's an investment in the future of Austin's wedding industry." He turned to Blaire with a kind of admiration I'd never seen before. "Her professionalism really impresses me."

The host continued, "What about Harper Stone? I understand you two also had a working relationship?"

Cole shrugged, his expression becoming indifferent: "Harper? She's just one of many business contacts, nothing special. We've had some project interactions, but those were purely business arrangements."

Business contact.

One of many business contacts.

Nothing special.

I turned off the TV. The room fell into dead silence. Seven years. Seven years of secret relationship, seven years of waiting, seven years of mutual support—and in his mouth, it had become "purely business arrangements."

I remembered that night seven years ago, Cole's 25th birthday. We were in his small apartment, just after making love, me lying on his chest.

"Harper," he stroked my hair gently, "I know things are complicated right now, but as long as you wait for me, I'll always be yours. Once I establish myself in the music industry, we can make everything public."

I had believed him like a fool.

Business contact. Those words kept echoing in my mind, like they were going to tear me apart completely.

I picked up my phone and habitually opened Instagram. Cole's profile appeared at the top of the screen. I clicked on it, and the world collapsed again.

All the photos were gone.

All our photos together, all those carefully taken memories we never posted but kept in our private albums—everything deleted. In their place were photo after photo of Cole and Blaire's "work shots"—the two of them discussing plans in the recording studio, having "business meetings" at cafes, even a photo of them together at yesterday's expo.

The comments under the photos made me sick:

"You two look perfect together!"

"When is Cole going to make his girlfriend official?"

"Blaire is so beautiful, total international class!"

My hands started trembling. Not from sadness, but from anger. Pure, burning anger.

The phone rang again, this time Kelly. I took several deep breaths before answering.

"Harper, we have a problem." Kelly's voice was tense and urgent. "I'm at the office now. You need to get here ASAP."

Twenty minutes later, I was at my studio. Kelly sat at the computer, her face pale.

"What happened?"

"Someone's spreading rumors in the client groups, saying you use unfair competition and unethical methods to steal orders." Kelly turned the screen toward me. "And we've already received five order cancellations this morning."

I looked at the chat logs on screen. Anonymous accounts were spreading malicious rumors about me in various wedding planner groups:

"Harper Stone's company has quality issues. I'd suggest everyone be careful."

"I heard she's always late with deliveries and has a terrible attitude toward clients."

"Go with Blaire instead—at least she's internationally certified."

I clenched my fists.

Kelly hesitated for a moment, then said, "Harper, I've received job offers from other companies."

I turned to her, feeling another knife in my back. "You want to leave?"

"I don't want to, but..." she avoided my eyes, "if the company goes under, I need to think about myself."

I couldn't blame her. Kelly was only 23, fresh out of college—she needed stable income. But the feeling of betrayal still made it hard to breathe.

"I understand." I tried to stay calm. "Give me a week. If things don't improve, I won't stop you."

Kelly nodded, guilt filling her eyes.

Just then, my email notification chimed. A new message from an anonymous address.

I clicked it open. The content was just one short line:

"Stay away from Cole, or face the consequences."

I noticed the technical details of the email.

"Kelly, this IP address..."

Kelly leaned over to look, then gasped: "That's from Cole's music studio."

We stared at each other. Not Blaire. Cole himself.

So this is Cole' true face, I thought coldly. Not only denying our relationship, but actively attacking me.

I sat in my chair, feeling anger burn in my chest. For seven years, I thought I knew Cole. I thought he just needed time, needed the right moment. I thought we had something special worth waiting for.

Business contact.

Nothing special.

Stay away from Cole, or face the consequences.

I stood up and walked to the office's large window. Austin's streets stretched out below, people coming and going, each with their own lives, their own goals.

I should have my own goals too.

"Kelly," I turned to face her, "if you want to stay, we fight back. If you want to go, I won't stop you. But I'm not going to take this lying down anymore."

Kelly looked at me. "What do you want to do?"

"I want Cole to know he picked the wrong target."

I picked up my phone and started dialing a number. Sarah from Austin Business Journal—we'd worked together a few times.

"Sarah, it's me, Harper. I have an exclusive scoop about Cole and his new business partner."

An interested voice came through the phone: "What've you got?"

"Let's meet. One hour, at that coffee shop on Main Street."

After hanging up, Kelly looked at me in surprise: "You're really going to do this?"

"He wants war, I'll give him war." I organized the files on my desk. "But I need to know if you're on my side."

Kelly was silent for a few seconds, then nodded firmly: "I'm on your side, Harper. Let's take down this bastard."