Chapter 7: The Woman From My Past
I thought Garrett’s biggest weapon was money.
I was wrong.
Money could be traced.
Documents could be uncovered.
Lies could eventually collapse.
But reputation was different.
Reputation was invisible.
And Garrett had spent eight years building his.
The next morning, I woke up to dozens of missed calls.
My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating.
Messages from friends.
Former colleagues.
People who had attended the party.
At first, I thought they were asking if I was okay.
Then I opened the first message.
*“Alessia, is it true you attacked Garrett?””*
My stomach dropped.
The second message was worse.
*“I heard you had some kind of breakdown.””*
The third one made my hands shake.
*“Garrett says he’s worried about you.””*
I stared at the screen.
Worried about me.
That was his new story.
Not that he hurt my mother.
Not that he hid money.
Not that he tried to remove me from my own home.
He had already rewritten everything.
I walked downstairs and found my mother sitting at the kitchen table.
She looked at my face and immediately knew.
“He started telling people.””
I nodded.
“How did you know?””
She gave me a sad smile.
“Because men like him always tell their version first.””
I sat across from her.
“He’s making me look unstable.””
My mother reached for my hand.
“Then don’t fight him the way he wants you to.””
“What does that mean?””
“It means don’t let him turn you into the person he claims you are.””
Those words stayed with me.
Because Garrett wanted anger.
He wanted emotion.
He wanted me to lose control.
That would prove his story.
But I was done giving him exactly what he expected.
An hour later, Claire arrived.
She placed a thick folder on the table.
“He’s moving faster than I expected.””
“What happened?””
“He contacted several people yesterday.””
“Who?””
She opened the folder.
“Your old business partners. Mutual friends. Even some family acquaintances.””
I looked through the papers.
“He’s building a case.””
“Yes.””
“To make me look like the problem.””
Claire nodded.
“And he has someone helping him.””
I looked up.
“Who?””
She hesitated.
Then she placed a photograph on the table.
I froze.
The woman in the picture had dark hair, a confident smile, and eyes I remembered immediately.
Victoria Hale.
My former best friend.
The woman who had disappeared from my life five years ago.
“What does she have to do with this?””
Claire looked at me carefully.
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.””
I picked up the photo.
Victoria and I had been inseparable after college.
We shared apartments.
Secrets.
Dreams.
Until the night she accused me of betraying her.
She said I stole an opportunity from her.
I said I had no idea what she was talking about.
We never spoke again.
“Garrett knows her?””
Claire nodded.
“They’ve been communicating for months.””
My heart sank.
“Why?””
“That’s what we need to find out.””
I stared at the picture.
A memory came back.
Victoria standing outside my apartment five years ago.
Crying.
Angry.
“You always get everything, Alessia.””
At the time, I thought she was talking about luck.
Now I wondered if she had been talking about something else.
That afternoon, I received a message.
From an unknown number.
*We need to talk. You deserve the truth. — Victoria*
I looked at Claire.
“She wants to meet.””
Claire immediately shook her head.
“Not alone.””
“I need answers.””
“You need protection.””
I understood why she said it.
But there was something about the message.
Not a threat.
Not an accusation.
Desperation.
So I agreed to meet her.
The café was quiet.
Victoria arrived ten minutes late.
She looked different.
Older.
Tired.
Not like the woman I remembered.
She sat across from me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered:
“He told you I was helping him.””
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know what was true.
Victoria looked down.
“I was.””
The honesty surprised me.
“Why?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because I hated you.””
The words hurt.
Even after everything.
Even after years.
They still hurt.
She continued.
“I thought you destroyed my life.””
“I didn’t.””
“I know that now.””
She took a deep breath.
“Garrett knew I blamed you.””
My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.
“He found you.””
“Yes.””
“And he used that.””
She nodded.
“He told me you were the reason I lost everything.””
I looked away.
Of course.
He didn’t create hatred.
He found it.
Then he fed it.
“What did he ask you to do?””
Victoria was silent.
Too silent.
Then she reached into her bag.
And placed a small envelope on the table.
“He asked me to give him one thing.””
“What?””
She looked at me.
“The reason he thought he could destroy you.””
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph from before I met Garrett.
A photograph of me standing beside a man I hadn’t seen in ten years.
May you like
My blood ran cold.
Because that man was the last person Garrett wanted me to remember.
