Morning breaks with news alerts. My phone detonates like a fucking bomb.
Text after text. Call after call. Notifications stacking so fast they blur together.
I grab it, still in Caelen's bed, his arm solid around my waist. Open the news app with one eye still closed against daylight.
My stomach drops. Literally plummets like I'm in free fall.
Headlines everywhere. Every major outlet. Bloomberg, WSJ, Page Six, fucking TMZ.
"Kael Dareth Files for Divorce - Claims Wife's Year-Long Affair."
"Dareth: 'She Was Cheating Throughout Our Entire Marriage.'"
"Welch Heiress Accused of Infidelity with Father's Right-Hand Man."
No. No no no.
I click the first article. Kael's statement plastered across the top like a goddamn manifesto.
"I've filed for divorce from Maeve Welch, formerly Winters. Throughout our marriage, she conducted an affair with Caelen Rhys. I only recently discovered the depth of her betrayal. Their 'engagement' is simply making public what's been happening in secret for months. I'm devastated but moving forward."
Devastated. The lying bastard is playing devastated.
"Fuck." Caelen's awake, reading his own phone. Muscles tensing against me. "That lying bastard."
Can't breathe. Can't think. The room's tilting sideways.
He filed for divorce without telling me. Without warning. Just leaked it to every media outlet with lies attached like grenades.
"He's actually claiming we were together during the marriage." My voice sounds hollow. Distant. "That this whole thing was an affair."
"When you didn't even know I existed," Caelen says. Voice tight with controlled fury. "This is desperation. He knows he's losing so he's trying to drag you down."
The nausea hits. Wave of it rolling through my stomach.
Stress. Has to be stress. Can't be anything else.
My phone rings. Father. Alexander Welch calling at 7am with that particular ringtone that means business emergency.
I answer. "Did you see?"
"Yes." His voice is pure ice. Controlled rage that's infinitely more terrifying than shouting. "Every outlet's running it. He beat us to the narrative."
"It's complete bullshit—"
"I know that. You know that. But the public?" Alexander's already strategizing. "He's claiming you cheated throughout your entire marriage. That your engagement to Caelen is just legitimizing an existing affair."
"I didn't even meet Caelen until after I left." The nausea's building. Acid in my throat. "This is—I'm gonna be sick."
"We'll discuss in person. My office. One hour." He hangs up.
Typical. Crisis mode activated.
I'm shaking. Actually trembling like I've got hypothermia. "He filed for divorce without even telling me first. Just leaked it to the press with his lies attached."
"Classic manipulation." Caelen's already in strategy mode. Controlled. Focused. "He's trying to control the narrative after you chose me publicly at the gala. Make himself the victim, you the villain."
His certainty steadies me. Barely. Like grabbing a life raft in a hurricane.
"We'll figure this out," he says. Firm. Absolute. "I will figure this out."
The office meeting is brutal. Alexander's war room, screens everywhere showing the media coverage exploding in real time.
Every outlet picking up the story. Social media on fire. My name trending for all the wrong reasons.
Father's furious but controlled. That scary calm that means someone's about to get destroyed. "He filed for divorce and leaked infidelity claims before we could respond. Makes you look guilty. Makes us look weak."
"We have proof it's lies," Caelen cuts in. Already pulling up files on his tablet. "Security footage, timestamps. Maeve and I didn't have contact until after she left the Dareth estate. First meeting was documented. Everything's documented."
Thank God for his paranoid documentation habit.
Alexander studies us. Calculating. "Can you prove the timeline conclusively?"
"Every interaction." Caelen's scrolling through files. "I can show exactly when we first met, first spoke, when the relationship actually started. Weeks after she left him."
The nausea's getting worse. Room spinning slightly. I grip the table edge.
"The security footage from the gala entrance," Caelen continues. "Shows our first physical interaction. Dated. Timestamped. Witnesses."
"And before that?" Alexander's thorough. Relentless.
"Nothing. I was surveillance only. Watching from a distance on your orders. Never approached, never spoke, never—"
I need to call Kael. Need to scream at him. Need to—
The room's spinning harder. "I need—"
Barely make it to the trash can before throwing up. Violent. Everything from last night's dinner making a reappearance.
Caelen's there immediately. Hand on my back. "Stress. Just stress."
But it's the third time this week. Third fucking time.
Alexander's watching. Concerned behind the strategic mask. "You need to rest."
"No." I wipe my mouth. Shaking. "I need to destroy him for this—"
Can't finish. Throwing up again. Dry heaving when there's nothing left.
"Hospital," Caelen says. Not a suggestion. A statement of fact. "Now."
"I'm fine—"
"You're not fine. You haven't been fine for days." He looks at Alexander. Command decision made. "I'm taking her. We'll strategize after we make sure she's okay."
For once, Alexander doesn't argue. Just nods. "Go. I'll start damage control. Coordinate with PR. Get our timeline proof ready for release."
In the car, I finally call Kael. Hands shaking so hard I can barely dial.
He answers immediately. "Maeve—"
"You filed for divorce without telling me?" My voice is shaking with rage. Pure fury. "You leaked lies about me cheating to every media outlet?"
"It's not lies—"
"Bullshit!" Screaming now. "I didn't even know Caelen existed when I was with you! You know that!"
"You were engaged two weeks after leaving." His voice is cold. Clinical. "Convenient timing."
"This is revenge." Can see it clearly now. "You're destroying me because I chose Caelen. Because your bankruptcy's about to go public and you need me to look like the villain instead."
"I'm telling the truth—"
"Fuck you, Kael." The words come out venom. "We have timestamps. Security footage. Proof of when Caelen and I actually met. You just buried yourself."
I hang up. Hands still shaking. Look at Caelen.
"He actually believes his own lies," I say. "Or he's that good at playing victim."
"Doesn't matter." Caelen's jaw is set. Controlled fury. "We have proof. Documentary evidence. We'll bury him."
The nausea hits again. Worse this time. I lean forward, head between my knees.
"How long has this been happening?" Caelen's voice is careful. Concerned.
"Few days. Week maybe."
"And you didn't think to mention it?"
"Thought it was stress." My stomach's churning. "Everything with Kael, the gala, the—"
Can't finish. The queasiness is overwhelming.
Caelen drives faster. Not reckless but urgent. "We're figuring this out. Today."
But first, we need to figure out why I can't stop throwing up.