After the Affair Falling into a Billionaire's Arms novel Chapter 43

**Clocks Lie To Hearts by Asa River Flint**
**Chapter 43**

Louisa sat in contemplative silence, her thoughts swirling like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind. After a moment, she shook her head, a determined glint in her eyes.

“Maybe I would have considered it at the beginning,” she admitted, her voice steady but laced with fatigue. “But now, after everything that’s unfolded tonight, there are only eight days left. I just want to survive these eight days and never lay eyes on him again. I’m done with all this drama.”

Flora’s heart sank as she realized the weight of Louisa’s words. It dawned on her that Louisa had been meticulously counting down the days all month long, each tick of the clock a reminder of her impending freedom.

“But do you really think he’ll just let go?” Flora asked, turning to face her friend, concern etched on her features. “If he refuses to grant you a divorce, no matter what, will you really stand your ground?”

Louisa let out a laugh, but it was devoid of humor, a sound that echoed with steely resolve. “Soften?” she echoed incredulously, her smile unwavering. “I’ve paid with half my life for this wake-up call. If I look back even once, I deserve whatever fate awaits me.”

Flora fell silent, her gaze fixed on Louisa as she processed the fierce determination radiating from her friend. In that moment, Julian’s face flashed through her mind, uninvited yet persistent.

“What’s wrong?” Louisa noticed the fleeting expression on Flora’s face, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Nothing,” Flora replied quickly, shaking her head. “I just thought of Mr. Tudor. If he knew what you were going through, he’d be heartbroken.”

Louisa’s eyes widened in surprise. “What are you talking about? There’s absolutely nothing between Mr. Tudor and me.”

Flora snorted, unable to hide her skepticism. She had grown up alongside Julian and understood him in ways others could not. He treated all women with a certain distance—except when he looked at Louisa. In those moments, his gaze softened, revealing a warmth that was unmistakable.

“Seriously, how could I forget?” Flora exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “We might not be able to tackle the Price and Capulet families together, but Mr. Tudor could! I’m going to message him right now.”

She pulled out her phone, fingers poised to type.

Louisa sprang from her bed, a rush of panic coursing through her. “Don’t you dare!”

“Why not?” Flora shot back, her curiosity piqued.

“Don’t ask so many questions. Just… please, don’t tell him.”

To Louisa, Julian was merely her boss, a figure in her professional life. The last thing she wanted was for him to be dragged into her personal turmoil.

Seeing the distress etched across Louisa’s face, Flora relented, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine, I won’t say a word. But why are you so worked up about this?”

Louisa, feeling a bit of relief wash over her, returned to her bed. Soon, the weariness of the day caught up with both friends, and they drifted into a deep sleep, unaware that the world outside was on the brink of chaos.

The morning light broke through the curtains, and Louisa was jolted awake by Flora’s excited shriek.

“What’s wrong?” Louisa mumbled, still disoriented.

“Check your phone! You won’t believe what I just sent you!” Flora was practically bouncing on her feet, her enthusiasm infectious.

Expecting something of grave importance, Louisa unlocked her phone, only to find a picture of Vivian, her face grotesquely swollen, captured mid-shout, screaming, “I’m not a mistress!”

The absurdity of the image, combined with Vivian’s desperate denial, struck Louisa as comical. Overnight, the photo had gone viral, spreading like wildfire across social media.

“Who’s the genius behind this? I owe them dinner!” Flora exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Louisa was equally baffled. “Yeah, how did this picture gain traction so quickly?”

“Could it be Mr. Tudor?” Flora suggested, her voice teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.

“No way. Would he really stoop to something so juvenile?”

“I don’t think so either,” Flora agreed, though a hint of doubt lingered in her tone.

Society had little patience for homewreckers, and the majority of voices drowned out the few who dared to defend Vivian. The Price family, too, was dragged through the mud, their reputation tarnished.

Surprisingly, there was scant discussion about Louisa and George themselves.

Louisa chose not to engage in the online frenzy. Instead, she focused on the timestamps of the original videos. The initial post had been uploaded anonymously at 10 PM the previous night, with influencer shares popping up at 1 AM, 3 AM, and 6 AM.

A thought nagged at her: who could be secretly aiding her?

Flora leaned back on the bed, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Louisa asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Isn’t it obvious? Who else would go to such lengths to hire influencers, steer public opinion so deftly, and not fear retaliation from the Price and Capulet families—all while keeping you completely out of the spotlight? It has to be Mr. Tudor! He’s into you.”

“There you go again,” Louisa sighed, exasperation creeping into her voice. “What does this have to do with Mr. Tudor? Stop dragging him into everything.”

She couldn’t wrap her head around it. She had barely met Julian a handful of times, and each encounter had left her flustered and tongue-tied. How could he possibly be interested in her?

“If not him, then who could it be?” Flora pressed, her curiosity insatiable.

Louisa shook her head, unable to fathom the answer.

“Well, whoever it is, they’ve saved you. I can only imagine the chaos the Capulet and Price families are facing right now. I’d love to witness that drama unfold.”

“Who cares about them?” Louisa replied, her tone dismissive. “I’m just worried about my dad. If he finds out about all this, he’ll be beside himself with concern.”

“What did you say? Your dad?” Flora shot up from the bed, her eyes wide with shock. “You have a dad?”