Chapter 3

The structured nature of my post and the provocative headline caused the story to spread rapidly across the internet.

In the meantime, Nathan and Carol remained unaware, reveling in the success of their plot against me.

Before I was taken away, I turned to them with a slight grin.

"Don't get too comfortable," I said softly. "You're so arrogant, so pleased with yourselves. But soon, you'll pay for this dearly. And when that happens, it'll prove my innocence."

If they were careless enough to take something as hazardous as Iridium-192, I was certain their imprudence would eventually catch up with them.

They brushed off my words as empty threats, chuckling as they departed arm in arm.

However, it took just one night for their confidence to begin crumbling.

The following day, Nathan desperately tried to see me, his anxiety evident. I declined each of his attempts to meet.

Three days later, Elliot posted my bail, and I was let out on probation.

As soon as I walked free, I sensed that the situation had changed significantly.

Nathan was there waiting, clutching a large bunch of roses. He hurried towards me, attempting to grasp my arm, but Elliot intervened, effortlessly blocking him.

Elliot glanced at me questioningly. I gave a gentle smile. "It's okay. I'll talk to him."

We had our discussion at a nearby cafe.

Nathan thrust the flowers into my hands, acting as if nothing had transpired over the past few days. His face showed not a trace of remorse.

"Claire," he said, his voice casual, "we're about to go through a period of separation. Let's use this time to reconcile, alright? No hard feelings."

I nearly burst out laughing.

Was he really referring to my upcoming jail term as a "period of separation"?

I pushed the bouquet back to him. "If you can't speak honestly, I'm leaving."

Nathan's smile wavered, and he quickly got to the point.

"What you shared online," he began, lowering his voice, "has created significant issues for Carol."

I took out my phone, scanning through the recent updates.

The public's reaction against Carol was harsh. The internet was flooded with stories about the influencer who knowingly became "the other woman" and set me up. Her reputation was in tatters.

She wasn't just losing followers—she was losing business deals and endorsements rapidly.

"She's not having a great time these days, is she?" I said mockingly.

My gaze drifted to the adjacent table, where a woman sat wearing a mask and a baseball cap pulled down low. Despite the disguise, I recognized Carol.

Her hands, resting in her lap, were covered in angry red rashes.

I looked back at Nathan. He coughed slightly, a persistent, dry sound that made me uneasy.

My heart sank.

These were early indications of radiation sickness.

They must have opened the lead container holding the Iridium-192.

Nathan, oblivious to my realization, continued talking.

"I need you to make a public apology," he said. "Admit that you were envious of Carol and me, and that everything you posted was false."

I blinked, sure I had misunderstood. "You want me to admit that I'm the one who tried to ruin your relationship?"

Nathan nodded, his tone reassuring, as if he were doing me a favor.

"It's just words, Claire. Who cares what people think? We care for each other—that's what's important."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice further.

"Think about it. Once you're in prison, no one will even remember this in a few years. But Carol? She has to deal with public scrutiny every day."

Slap!

The sound echoed through the cafe as my palm struck his cheek.

Nathan recoiled, shocked, his face flushing with anger.

The other patrons turned to look, some even leaning in to watch the unfolding scene.

"You're unbelievable," I said coldly, my voice cutting through the silence.

Nathan finally lost his composure. "Claire! You're on probation! If you cause trouble, I'll call the police right now and have you sent back to jail!"

I didn't flinch. Instead, I grabbed my coffee and threw it in his face.

Hot liquid splashed across his shirt, the strong aroma of espresso filling the air.

"If you have time to make threats," I said, my tone icy, "you should be calling a hospital. You might not survive until spring."

Nathan jumped up, his face distorted with rage.

"All you ever do is wish ill on people! What's wrong with you?"

He lunged forward, reaching for my arm, but before he could touch me, a strong hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar.