She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Chapter 64

55 vouchers.

The city’s heartbeat thrummed beneath the tires of the black Aston Martin, but inside, the air was thick and heavy.

Beckham had one hand on the steering wheel, the other yanking impatiently at the top two buttons of his shirt. The city lights and streets sped by outside, but he didn’t see any of it.

In his mind, Laylah’s tear-streaked face in the apartment kept replaying, along with his mother’s forceful words, the blinding flashes of reporters’ cameras, and Haley’s open disgust and ridicule.

And then there were those photos, too: the blurry, yet all-too-familiar figure in them.

‘Why?’ he thought.

A faint crackle of static came through the Bluetooth earpiece, followed by Chad’s tense voice. “Mr. Lucero.”

“Go on,” Beckham said, his voice rough and cold.

“Something’s happened,” Chad said, his words tumbling out in a rush, his tone grim. “The situation at Aloft this morning, you and Ms. Stein, has gone viral. It’s not just a few tabloids.

“Starlight Media was the first to drop a detailed report with photos and videos. The headline and content are seriously shocking. Now, the story’s trending everywhere online and blowing up on social media.”

Even though he’d braced himself for this, hearing “gone viral” and “Starlight Media” made Beckham’s grip on the steering wheel tighten so hard that his knuckles turned white.

A surge of rage mixed with a cold feeling of being set up shot straight from his feet to the top of his head.

“Starlight? Phoebe?” Beckham forced the name out between clenched teeth.

“Yes,” Chad replied, his voice dropping lower. “It’s Starlight Media, run by Ms. Phoebe Sommers, Mr. Winston Sommers’s wife.

“You know her style: she’s always drawn to these stories about the elite and their messy relationships, and she never cares about the consequences. Our legal letters and warnings? Honestly, they won’t do much against her or her backers.”

Phoebe popped into his mind. Beckham instantly pictured her: a woman in her fifties, always dressed in flashy, over-the-top outfits, her words as sharp as a blade.

She lived for social events, delighting in ripping apart the glittering facade of high society and exposing every moral flaw for all to see.

Her husband, Winston Whitcombe, was a business tycoon with connections everywhere, and Phoebe herself was tough as nails, proudly calling herself the “conscience of the media.

She had a knack for digging up juicy scandals about the rich and famous, especially when it came to affairs and mistresses; she absolutely despised cheaters and homewreckers.

19:38 Mon, May 11 d.

Chapter 64

40

65 vouchers

Anyone unlucky enough to catch her attention was in for a rough ride; she’d tear them apart, leaving them battered and bruised in the court of public opinion, and once she started, there was no stopping the storm she stirred up.

‘Why is she suddenly targeting me?’ Beckham thought. ‘Did someone hand her the ammunition she needed, or did she just catch the scent of a big scandal and pounce like a predator?’

Thinking back to everything since last night, it all fit together like gears clicking perfectly into place. ‘All of them are suspicious: my strange, uncharacteristic drunkenness and loss of control, Laylah showing up at the exact right moment to “take care” of me.

‘My mother’s precisely timed morning ambush and what she saw, the anonymous photos of me being drugged, the swarm of reporters waiting right on schedule outside, and now, Phoebe’s media outlet delivering a thunderous blow.’

This was no coincidence. It was a meticulously planned, ruthless, and targeted trap. Whoever was behind this didn’t want to expose his relationship with Laylah in the most humiliating way possible.

They wanted to use Phoebe, that razor-sharp and reckless weapon of public opinion, to publicly crucify him as morally bankrupt and utterly chaotic, throwing both him and the Lucero Group into the worst crisis they’ve ever faced.

“Fuck!” The rage and humiliation of being played finally broke through Beckham’s restraint. He punched the Nappa leather steering wheel hard, the thud echoing in the car. The horn blared, slicing through the quiet midday street and making people turn to look.

“Get back to the office, now!” Beckham snapped into the earpiece, his voice icy enough to chill the air. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

“Get the PR director and head of legal to drop everything and wait in my office. Use every channel we’ve got to find out who handed Phoebe the ammo! I want names. Who’s behind this mess?”

“Yes, Mr. Lucero!” Chad answered without hesitation.

The black sports car tore down the road like an enraged beast, its engine growling as it raced toward the Lucero Group’s towering glass headquarters.

The windows were sealed tight, but nothing could keep out the suffocating, destructive tension inside. Beckham’s face was as dark as the sky before a storm, and deep in his eyes, fury and thunder tangled together, a violent storm ready to explode.

‘Who’s behind this? Who had the guts to plot against me so carefully, to throw me into this humiliating mess and even threaten the Lucero Group’s reputation… Beckham swore to himself, ‘I’ll make them pay a price so brutal. They’ll wish they’d never been born.’

*****

At the Lucero Group headquarters, though lunch break wasn’t officially over yet, a strange tension was already hanging in the air, spreading through the lobby and open office spaces.

Office workers hurried toward the elevators, unable to resist scrolling frantically through their phones, their faces a mix of shock, curiosity, and worry. In the break room, people whispered in low voices, trying not to be

19:38 Mon, May 11

Chapter 64

overheard.

“Is this for real? Did Mr. Lucero really…?”

“Starlight Media dropped the story, and there are photos! They’re kind of fuzzy, but…”

“Phoebe… if she’s the one spilling the tea, you know it’s probably legit.”

“This is bad. Is the stock going to tank?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify