Divorced, Now Watch Me Rise!

Media Storm

CLAIRE

I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing constantly, like it wouldn't stop, like something had broken loose in the world while I was asleep.

I rolled over in the unfamiliar bed, squinting at the bright sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, I forgot where I was, then it all came rushing back: Julian, the contract, the engagement party, Ethan's face when he realized I was wearing a ring.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand and my stomach dropped when I saw the screen. Twenty-three missed calls and forty-seven text messages.

My heart started pounding as I scrolled through the notifications. Most were from blocked numbers, a few were from people I barely knew, old acquaintances and distant relatives I hadn't heard from in years, and three were from my father.

I didn't open any of them, instead I opened my browser and the first thing that popped up was a gossip website with a massive headline that made my blood run cold.

"TECH CEO'S EX-WIFE SPOTTED WITH HIS STEPBROTHER AT ENGAGEMENT PARTY—IS THAT A WEDDING RING?!"

Below the headline was a photo of Julian and me from last night, walking into the ballroom together with his hand on my back and my emerald ring clearly visible under the camera flash.

I clicked on the article with shaking hands.

"In a stunning turn of events, Claire Whitmore, recently divorced from tech billionaire Ethan Cross amid cheating allegations, appeared at his engagement party last night on the arm of his stepbrother, Julian Cross. Sources at the event report the two arrived together and appeared 'very close,' with Claire sporting what looks like a wedding band on her left hand. Could the rumored affair have been real all along? And if so, have the two allegedly caught cheating now made it official? Representatives for both Julian and Claire could not be reached for comment."

My hands trembled as I kept scrolling and found more articles, each one worse than the last.

"FROM ONE BROTHER TO ANOTHER: Claire Whitmore's Scandalous Love Triangle"

"Ethan Cross's Ex-Wife Flaunts New Relationship at His Engagement Party"

"The Affair That Broke a Marriage, Now a Marriage Itself?"

There were photos everywhere, dozens of them, all from different angles: me and Julian arriving, me and Julian standing in front of Ethan and Vanessa, close-ups of my ring, even a blurry shot of Ethan's face looking pale and shocked.

The comments section was brutal and I couldn't stop myself from reading them even though each one felt like a knife.

"She has no shame showing up there with him."

"So the photos WERE real. She was cheating the whole time."

"Two cheaters deserve each other."

"I feel so bad for Ethan. She humiliated him at his own engagement party."

"That ring is HUGE. She clearly upgraded lol."

I dropped the phone on the bed and pressed my hands to my face, trying to breathe. This was everywhere, my face was everywhere, people were talking about me like they knew me and like they had the right to judge every decision I'd ever made.

A soft knock on the door made me jump.

"Claire?" Julian's voice came through, calm and steady like he hadn't just woken up to the same nightmare I had.

"Come in," I said, my voice hoarse.

The door opened and Julian stepped inside, already dressed in dark jeans and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like he'd been awake for hours, completely unbothered by whatever chaos was unfolding online.

He was holding a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. "You've seen it," he said, not a question but a statement.

"Everyone's seen it," I whispered, gesturing helplessly at my phone.

Julian walked over and set the coffee on the nightstand, then sat down on the edge of the bed with the tablet in his lap.

"It's worse than I thought it would be," I continued, my voice shaking. "They're saying we were having an affair, that the photos were real, that we're married now and just proving we're both terrible people."

"They're saying what we expected them to say," Julian replied calmly, swiping through something on his tablet.

"How are you so calm about this?" I demanded, staring at him in disbelief.

He looked up at me with those cold gray eyes and said simply, "Because this is exactly what I wanted to happen."

I blinked at him, certain I'd misheard.

"What?"

"This," he gestured at my phone and his tablet, "is good for us."

"Good?" My voice rose. "Julian, they're destroying me online right now and you think that's good?"

"They're talking about you," he corrected, his tone maddeningly calm. "There's a difference."

"I don't understand."

Julian set the tablet aside and turned to face me fully, his expression serious but not unkind.

"Right now, everyone is talking about Claire Whitmore," he said slowly, like he was explaining something to a child. "Yesterday, you were invisible, a secret wife nobody knew existed, someone Ethan could erase without anyone noticing, but today? Today you're front page news."

"That's not a good thing," I said desperately.

"It is if we control it," Julian replied, picking up his tablet again and tapping the screen a few times before turning it toward me. "Look at this."

It was a social media post from some celebrity gossip account with millions of followers and the post had a poll attached.

"Team Ethan or Team Claire? Vote now!"

The results showed sixty-two percent of people had voted for "Team Claire" and only thirty-eight percent for "Team Ethan."

I stared at the numbers, not understanding. "How is that possible?" I whispered, looking up at Julian with wide eyes.

"Because people love an underdog," Julian said, a small smile playing at his lips. "Ethan threw you out, divorced you publicly and got engaged to your stepsister a week later, that looks cold and calculated to most people, but you? You showed up at his engagement party with his estranged stepbrother, looking beautiful and unbothered, wearing a ring that cost more than most people's cars, and you didn't cause a scene or beg for him back, you just existed in his space and refused to be erased."

"But they think I cheated," I protested weakly.

"Some do," Julian acknowledged with a slight shrug. "But a lot of people are starting to question that narrative now, they're wondering if maybe Ethan lied, if maybe he needed an excuse to get rid of you so he could be with Vanessa, and those photos? People are already analyzing them online, calling them fake and pointing out inconsistencies."

I looked back at my phone, scrolling through the comments again with new eyes, and Julian was right because mixed in with the hateful comments were others, different ones I'd missed before.

"Those photos always looked photoshopped to me."

"Why would she cheat and then show up to his party? That doesn't make sense."

"Ethan got engaged ONE WEEK after the divorce? Sus."

"I'm team Claire. Something doesn't add up here."

My breath caught in my throat as hope flickered in my chest, small and fragile but there nonetheless.

"People are questioning it," I said softly, looking up at Julian in wonder.

"They are," he confirmed, standing up and walking toward the window with his hands in his pockets. "But we need to push that narrative further, we need to give them a reason to believe you're the victim here, not the villain."

"How?" I asked, climbing out of bed and walking toward him with the coffee cup clutched in both hands.

Julian turned to face me, his expression calculating and sharp. "We give them the truth," he said simply. "Or at least, our version of it."

"What does that mean?"

He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it up so I could see the screen, which showed a blank social media post waiting to be written.

"We release a statement," Julian explained, his eyes meeting mine with intensity. "We confirm that yes, we're together, and yes, we got married, but we make it clear that nothing happened between us while you were with Ethan, we tell them the photos were fabricated, that you were framed and discarded, and that I'm the only person who believed you when everyone else turned their backs."

My heart was pounding now, adrenaline mixing with fear and something else, something that felt almost like power.

"And people will believe that?" I asked quietly.

"Some will, some won't," Julian said with brutal honesty. "But enough will, especially when we start releasing evidence."

"What evidence?"

Julian's smile turned sharp and dangerous, the kind of smile that made me remember he wasn't just helping me out of kindness but out of his own need for revenge.

"I have the original photo files," he said softly, watching my reaction carefully. "The ones that show they were edited, I also have bank records showing Ethan paid a digital forensics company two weeks before those photos surfaced, and I have text messages between him and Vanessa discussing the timeline."

I stared at him, my mouth falling open in shock. "You've had this the whole time?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you show me before?"

"Because you weren't ready," Julian said simply, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "You needed to see them first, needed to face them and prove to yourself that you could stand in front of your worst enemies without falling apart, now you're ready."

I set the coffee cup down on a nearby table because my hands were shaking too badly to hold it anymore. "So what do we do?" I asked, my voice stronger now despite the trembling in my limbs.

Julian walked over to where I stood and looked down at me with those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see everything.

"We fight back," he said quietly, his voice filled with cold determination. "We release our statement, we leak the evidence slowly over the next few days and we watch as their perfect little engagement falls apart piece by piece."

I took a deep breath, feeling something shift inside me, something hard and sharp and unbreakable. "Okay," I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Let's do it."

Julian's smile widened slightly, not warm but satisfied, like a chess player who'd just made a winning move.

"Good," he said, pulling out his phone again and opening up a notes app. "Then let's write your truth."