Chapter 5

A second later, the account was force-logged out from another device.

Within minutes, Tyler burst into the study with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

He cleared his throat, trying to hide his panic with anger.

"Why the hell were you snooping through my SnapChat? Where are your manners?"

He raised his voice, desperately trying to cover up his betrayal.

I was too exhausted to fight. I tried to walk past him to go to the bedroom.

Thinking I was backing down, he reached out to wrap his arm around my waist.

I flinched away, dodging his touch, locked myself in the bedroom, and went to sleep.

It was the best sleep I had in years.

At dawn, a loud crash woke me up.

The bedroom door was kicked open.

Tyler marched in, his face contorted with rage.

"Alyssa! Did you post anonymous threads calling Polly a homewrecker?"

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it? Stripping at the club to get clout, and then leaking lies about Polly to ruin her reputation?"

"I didn't realize you could be this calculating."

My head was pounding. I groaned, turning away. "I didn't do anything. I don't care enough to."

My indifferent attitude only pushed him over the edge.

Tyler lunged forward and slapped me across the face.

The loud crack echoed in the quiet room.

The force of the blow knocked me back onto the mattress. My head spun, and I had to swallow the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat.

Tyler froze, staring at his own hand, realizing what he had just done.

"Alyssa... I..."

"Get out!"

I wiped the blood from my lip. The very last trace of affection I had for this man died right then and there.

Tyler opened his mouth to explain, but his phone started ringing.

He glanced at the screen, muttered "stay put," and rushed out of the room.

I dragged myself out of bed, forced down some breakfast, and grabbed the suitcase I had packed weeks ago.

When I arrived at the airport terminal, I noticed people staring at me.

Whenever I caught their eyes, they quickly looked away, whispering furiously to their friends.

"So tragic..." "The kidnapping..." "Oh my God, is that her?"

A chill ran down my spine. My grip on my suitcase tightened.

My heart beat so fast it felt like it was going to burst through my throat.

With trembling fingers, I opened Twitter. The top trending hashtag in New York was:

#Tyler’s Wife: The Kidnapped Heiress and the Secret Pregnancy.#

The article leaked highly confidential photos from five years ago.

Staring at the screen, my head felt like it was splitting open.

Through the static in my mind, I was dragged back to that horrifying day five years ago.

I saw my eighteen-year-old self—naked, bruised, and pregnant under the blinding flashlights of the paparazzi after being rescued.

Even though the Franklins had spent millions to scrub those photos from the internet back then, the humiliation was permanently branded into my soul.

There was no way Tyler hadn't seen this. And yet, he let them drag me through the mud just to protect Polly.

With shaking hands, I called Tyler.

He picked up almost instantly, his voice filled with a tenderness I hadn't heard in years.

"Alyssa, don't be scared. I'm here."

"Just stay home. Don't look at your phone. I'll be back to hold you as soon as I finish this meeting."

I paused, my voice barely a whisper.

"Why did you do it, Tyler?"

There was a long, agonizing silence on the other end.

"Alyssa, I'm sorry. By the time I found out, the leak was already viral. I couldn't stop it."

"But you’re my wife. As long as I don't care about your past, what does it matter what public thinks?"

"Besides... this leak successfully buried the threads exposing Polly. It was the only way to save her. It's a win-win, right?"

I couldn't hear whatever else he said.

The world went cold. My legs gave out, my vision turned black, and I collapsed onto the hard airport floor.