MEDIA MANIPULATION

I should call Tia. Tell her everything.

But I don't.

Instead, I climb into my car and drive. Nowhere in particular, just… away.

Because deep down, I know talking won't change anything.

Brandon Garcia has already made his stance clear.

He will never let me go.

And if I don't find a way out soon… I might lose myself completely.

By the time I return to the mansion, it's nearly midnight.

The entire estate is silent, eerily so.

I expect the security guards to stop me at the gate, demand to know where I've been—Brandon's favorite control tactic.

But no one does.

Weird.

I step inside, my heels clicking against the marble floor.

Sofia is nowhere to be seen, but that's normal. She always goes to bed early.

I exhale, the weight of the day settling into my bones.

I just need sleep. Just a few hours of escape.

But as I climb the stairs, a deep voice slices through the silence—low, commanding, and far too close.

"Out late, aren't we?"

I freeze.

Brandon.

His voice comes from the shadows of the hallway, where he's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, waiting.

Like a predator amused by his prey's pathetic attempt at freedom.

I lift my chin. "Didn't realize I had a curfew."

He pushes off the wall, stepping into the dim light.

His black shirt is unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, veins flexing as he moves.

A dangerous, effortless display of power.

"You don't," he says smoothly. "But you are still my wife, and I like knowing where my belongings are."

My stomach twists with rage.

"I am not your belonging, Brandon."

He doesn't argue.

Instead, he studies me, sharp, assessing, quiet.

Like he's picking me apart piece by piece, finding every weak spot.

I hate that he still affects me.

That after everything, my body still reacts to him.

So I force myself to look unimpressed. "Are we done here?"

A muscle in his jaw ticks.

For a moment, I think he's going to let it go.

But then,he steps closer.

"You met Chloe today."

It's not a question.

I should've known he'd find out.

"She found me at the mall," I say flatly. "And tried to humiliate me. As usual."

"And did she succeed?"

I scoff. "Please. If anything, I humiliated her."

Brandon's lips twitch—not quite a smirk, but close.

"You always were good at handling vipers," he murmurs.

My throat tightens. He used to say that when we were younger.

Back when we weren't like this.

Before I can react, he steps closer again.

Too close. Dangerously close.

"You looked beautiful today," he says casually.

The words knock the air out of me.

I blink. What?

Brandon Garcia does not hand out compliments.

Not unless he wants something.

"Is this a new tactic?" I ask dryly. "Manipulate me into forgetting that you're an asshole?"

"I don't need tactics, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You always react to me, whether you like it or not."

His hand brushes my arm—a light touch, barely there.

But it's enough to send a shiver down my spine.

Damn it.

"Go to hell, Brandon," I whisper.

His smirk deepens. "Already there, sweetheart. And you're coming with me."

Then, as if he hadn't just thrown my entire system into chaos, he turns and walks away.

I don't sleep that night.

Because I finally accept the truth.

Brandon doesn't just want revenge. He wants me to break.

And if I don't get out soon… he just might succeed.

But I won't run. Not yet.

Because if Brandon wants a war, he's going to get one.

And when I leave him, he won't just regret it he'll burn for it.

.....

I wake up to the sound of my phone vibrating violently on the nightstand.

Multiple calls.

Too many.

I groan, reaching for it, still half-asleep.

As soon as I see the notifications, sleep evaporates from my system.

My name is everywhere.

Trending.

"BILLIONAIRE'S WIFE, ALEXIA GARCIA, LASHES OUT AT HEIRESS CHLOE HARPER WITH CHEATING ALLEGATIONS!"

"ALEXIA GARCIA PUBLICLY HUMILIATES CHLOE HARPER – JEALOUSY OR TRUTH?"

"THE BILLIONAIRE LOVE TRIANGLE: BRANDON, ALEXIA, AND CHLOE – WHO DOES HE REALLY LOVE?"

I sit up so fast the blankets slip off me

What the actual fuck?

More notifications flood in.

My stomach tightens as I click on one of the top articles.

" It appears billionaire Brandon Garcia's wife, Alexia Garcia, is having a hard time dealing with reality."

"The socialite was seen at an upscale mall yesterday, where she confronted business heiress Chloe Harper, accusing her of having an affair with her husband. Sources claim the two women exchanged heated words, with Alexia going as far as calling Chloe a desperate animal."

I grit my teeth.

So they made me the villain.

Again.

Like I'm the crazy wife throwing tantrums while Brandon plays the untouchable CEO.

I scroll further.

" While Mr. Garcia has yet to comment, sources say he has remained professional amidst the controversy. Meanwhile, Chloe Harper was seen leaving an exclusive spa, looking unbothered and absolutely stunning. Coincidence? We think not.

Unbothered and absolutely stunning?

I want to throw my phone across the room.

The worst part? Brandon hasn't said a word.

No denial. No statement.

Not even a goddamn PR stunt.

And l was damn sure he knew about this before it even went viral. There is nothing that concerns him that doesn't reach him before hand. But l know the reason,

Because he loves this.

He wants me to be humiliated, dragged through the mud, painted as the jealous, unhinged wife.

He's enjoying this.

That smug bastard.

I jump out of bed, pacing.

I need to do something. Fast.

Tia, The Only Sane Person in My Life

I grab my phone and call the only person who can help me before I commit a felony.

"It's too early for your drama, Alexia."

Tia's groggy voice filters through the speaker.

"Tia, I'm trending."

There's a beat of silence. Then, "Oh, sweetie. Of course you are."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Tia."

"Okay, okay! What happened?"

I exhale sharply. "I ran into Chloe yesterday, she tried to embarrass me, so I gave her a taste of her own medicine. And now the media has turned it into a fucking soap opera."

Tia makes an annoyed sound. "Of course they did. The world loves a villain, and they already cast you as one."

I grip my phone tighter. "I need to flip the narrative."

"Mmm. You could donate to charity."

"Tia."

"What? It works for celebrities all the time."

I groan. "I need something that will actually change the story. Something that will put me back in control."

There's a pause. Then, her voice drops.

"Alexia… what are you thinking?"

I smile.

"I'm thinking it's time to play dirty."

I throw on a designer dress, fix my hair, and call a certain journalist.

The one who hates Chloe Harper's guts because she once threw a drink at her during a party.

"Miss Garcia, what an honor," she purrs when she picks up.

I don't waste time.

"You want an exclusive?" I ask smoothly.

"Depends. What are we talking about?"

"A new headline." I smile. "One where the world finally sees Chloe Harper for what she really is."

A pause.

Then—laughter.

"Oh, honey. You have my attention."

Hours Later – The Internet Explodes Again

The new headlines drop by noon.

And this time, I control the story.

"EXCLUSIVE: CHLOE HARPER'S OBSESSION WITH BRANDON GARCIA EXPOSED!"

"ALEXIA GARCIA FINALLY BREAKS HER SILENCE – 'SHE WANTS TO STEAL MY HUSBAND.'

SOURCE CLOSE TO ALEXIA REVEALS: CHLOE HARPER TRIED TO DESTROY THEIR MARRIAGE FROM DAY ONE."

I sit back, smirking.

Let's see how unbothered you are now, Chloe.

My phone buzzes.

I glance at the screen.

Brandon.

I take a deep breath and answer. "Enjoying the headlines, husband?"

His voice is low, controlled. "What the hell did you do?"

I grin. "Fixed the narrative. Since you wouldn't."

Silence.

Then—a dark chuckle.

"You think this is a game, Alexia?"

I lean back, twirling a strand of hair around my finger.

"Oh, Brandon."

I drop my voice to a whisper.

"This is war."