Chapter 17
Three days.
That's how long it took for the media storm to swell — and then break like a tidal wave against the walls of Jade's foundation.
By Thursday morning, investors were pulling out. Donors were asking questions. The board had scheduled an emergency meeting without Jade. And the press?
The press had turned Kate from warrior to warning sign.
"Too bold."
"Too loud."
"Too public."
And yet — her follower count had tripled.
The More Than a Lover campaign was now a national movement.
Her inbox overflowed with messages from women in law, medicine, fashion — even stay-at-home moms — thanking her for giving them a voice.
But victory had a price.
---
At the Foundation's midtown office, Jade stood in the boardroom, flanked by his legal advisor and CFO.
Across the table sat a row of suits — old money, grey hair, and hidden knives behind silk ties.
"We appreciate everything you've done, Jade," said Chairman Harwell, folding his hands like a school principal. "But your personal affairs have become... complicated."
Jade's jaw tightened. "My personal affairs are no one's business."
Harwell nodded slowly. "Until they threaten the integrity of our grants. Three major partners are freezing funding. We've had three media hits in twenty-four hours — all linked to your... relationship."
"You mean the woman you ignored when she cleaned your floors?"
Silence.
"Careful, Mr. Williams," said a board member stiffly. "We're trying to protect the Foundation, not crucify you."
Jade stood. "Then let me make it easy."
He slid a folder across the table.
"My resignation. Effective immediately."
Gasps and low murmurs broke the quiet.
Harwell blinked. "You're walking away?"
"No," Jade said. "I'm making room for something that matters more."
He walked out without looking back.
---
That evening, Kate was curled on the couch, laptop open, finalizing press materials for her upcoming women's summit when Jade walked in.
She saw the tension in his shoulders before he even spoke.
"What happened?" she asked, rising.
He hesitated.
Then: "I resigned."
Kate's heart dropped. "You what?"
"They were going to push me out anyway. I just beat them to it."
"Jade—"
"I'd do it again," he said firmly. "This isn't your fault. They just couldn't handle a man who wouldn't control his woman."
Kate's eyes shimmered, but not with relief.
"I never asked you to give that up."
He moved closer, brushing a hand down her cheek.
"I know. But you gave up your silence for me. I'm just doing the same."
They kissed — soft, aching.
But the moment was cut short by another ping.
Kate turned to her phone, expecting a text.
It was worse.
A new anonymous email.
Subject: You don't know who's really leaking your life.
There was an attachment.
Kate opened it.
A scanned file. Internal Foundation memos. Confidential notes. Time-stamped records.
Her eyes widened as she read the signature at the bottom.
Celine Rowan.
---
Kate's world tipped sideways.
Her best friend.
Her fiercest defender.
The woman who'd pushed her to speak, rise, fight.
And she'd been leaking information to the press all along?
"Kate?" Jade asked.
She handed him the phone, silent.
He read it. His face turned to stone. "Are you sure this is real?"
Kate nodded slowly. "The timestamps match. Look — here, here — she was always 'suggesting' when to go public, always knew too much."
Jade ran a hand through his hair. "She was trying to control the story."
"Or sell it," Kate whispered.
And just like that, her chest ached in a new way.
Not from betrayal.
From disbelief.
---
Later that night, Kate stood in front of Celine's apartment door.
Her knock was sharp. No hesitation.
Celine answered, half-dressed in pajamas, surprise flashing across her face.
"Kate?"
"You sent those leaks," Kate said flatly. "Don't bother denying it."
Celine exhaled, stepping aside. "Come in. Let me explain."
Kate walked in, arms folded.
Celine didn't pretend. She walked straight to the kitchen, poured wine, and sat on the counter.
"I was trying to help you," she said.
"Help me? By violating my privacy?"
Celine's voice wavered. "You were on fire, Kate. But fire needs direction. Control. The press eats women like you alive unless someone manages it."
"So you chose to be my handler?"
Celine looked down. "I chose to be your shield. I just didn't realize I was becoming your leash."
Kate's eyes burned. "I trusted you."
"I never sold anything. I guided the narrative. I leaked what I thought you could use. I believed in your voice — but not your timing."
Kate's heart cracked in slow-motion.
"Then you never believed in me."
Celine said nothing.
Kate turned, her decision made.
"We're done."
---
Outside, New York buzzed with late-night life.
Kate walked through it numb.
Her foundation with Jade was real — but everything else?
Shifting sand.
She pulled out her phone and texted Jade.
> I need to be alone tonight. Not because of you. Just… everything else.
He replied almost instantly:
> I understand. I'm here. Whenever you need.
She smiled, pocketed the phone, and kept walking.
A woman alone in the city.
No handler.
No shield.
Just herself.
And that was enough.