Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143

Jessica’s POV

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I sat on the edge of the sofa, my eyes fixed on the television as the high-society wedding morphed into a televised execution.

The air in the living room was still, but the screen was a mess of movement. Aaron had stood at the altar and said “No,” but he didn’t stop there.

He had dismantled the Walters’ reputation in front of the entire world.

A series of documents and high-definition photos began to flash across the broadcast, overriding the live feed of the church.

I watched, my mouth slightly open, as the “Golden Girl” Lauren Walter was stripped bare.

The evidence was undeniable: Lauren in dimly lit rooms with known drug lords, handshakes over briefcases; medical records detailing multiple abortions, dates circled in red; blurry videos of her at parties, lines of white powder on tables, her laughter manic amid the haze; bank statements showing shady transfers from her family’s accounts to offshore havens tied to criminal enterprises.

The Walters’ dirty secrets laid bare: embezzlement, money laundering, connections to underground networks that made my

skin crawl.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, my eyes wide.

The reporters were shouting now, their voices overlapping in a frantic scramble for a scoop.

“We are seeing reports of high-level dealings with known narcotics distributors,” one voice rang out.

“And look at these medical records… if these are authentic, the Walter family has been orchestrating a massive cover-up for years.”

The cameras panned to her parents, Beatrice and James Walter. They surged forward in the aisles, their faces ashen.

“This is impossible!” Beatrice Walter’s voice screeched through the speakers. “This is a targeted attack! James, do something!”

“Turn it off! This is all falsified data! We will be suing for every cent the Tyrone family owns!”

James bellowed, waving at the screens as if he could swipe them away. But it was no use, the evidence looped, voices from leaked audio clips playing over speakers.

The crowd murmured louder, phones out, recording the downfall. Damage control failed spectacularly, the truth too damning to spin.

I leaned closer to the screen, a chilling thought crossing my mind.

How did Kennedy Tyrone miss this? He was a man who performed background checks on the people who delivered his mail. There was no way he didn’t know about Lauren’s shady history.

He must have known and simply decided that her family’s wealth was worth the filth they brought with them.

He had been willing to let this woman into his home, all for the sake of a merger, and to punish Aaron. To prove his power

over him.

Lauren stayed frozen at the altar. Her crown had fallen, her veil was lopsided, and she looked utterly destroyed

The nosy media didn’t miss a single second. They zoomed in on her tear-streaked face, catching the moment her triumple

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Chapter 143

turned into a nightmare.

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“Aaron, please!” Lauren’s voice cracked, piercing through the roar of the crowd. She lunged forward, her manicured nails catching the fabric of his sleeve.

“It’s not what it looks like. They’re lying! Aaron, look at me!”

Aaron didn’t look. He didn’t even flinch. He simply reached down and peeled her fingers off his arm as if he were brushing away a piece of lint.

“The truth has a way of coming out, Lauren,” he said. His voice was calm, but it carried a chilling clarity that the altar microphones picked up and broadcasted to every corner of the cathedral.

“I told you not to play this game. I warned you to back out of this wedding while you still had your dignity. Now, look at what you’ve pushed me to do.”

He turned his back on her and began to walk down the aisle, his stride long and powerful.

Lauren didn’t give up. She collapsed into a heap of white tulle and lace, her expensive veil tangling around her shoulders as she reached out toward his retreating figure.

“Don’t do this! We can talk about this! Aaron, I love you!”

Aaron paused. For a second, the entire room held its breath.

He turned his head just enough to look back at her, and even through the television screen, the coldness in his eyes made me shiver.

“You loved the name, Lauren,” he said, his voice flat and final. “You loved the power. You never loved me.”

Without giving her another second of his time, he turned back and continued his walk. He didn’t look at his grandfather. He didn’t look at the cameras. He just headed for the doors.

The moment he cleared the pews, a swarm of journalists abandoned their seats and surrounded him, a forest of microphones thrust into his face.

“Aaron! How did you know about the drugs?”

“Did you ever love her?”

“So the engagement was just a trap?”

“Was Lauren never the woman from Madrid?”

“Who is the mystery woman, Aaron?”

My heart thumped heavily against my ribs. They were so close to the truth. It was only a matter of time before they figured out I was the one he had been hiding.

Beatrice ran to her daughter, catching her as Lauren began to scream Aaron’s name, her voice cracking as she kept claiming it was all a lie.

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