After He Betrayed Me, I Disgraced Him

On the fifth anniversary of our relationship, my boyfriend betrayed me.

That day, he publicly kissed a famous singer at an awards ceremony, a moment that was instantly captured by the media. The scene quickly made headlines, spreading like wildfire across social media as netizens buzzed with excitement.

As I sat alone, picking at my meal, one of his friends approached me and asked what I was doing. When I told him that it was supposed to be our anniversary dinner, he replied, “I thought he is at that award show tonight, didn’t you see the video?”

I replied casually, "Well, I guess he forgot to mention that. Thanks for the headsup, or I’d still be sitting here waiting,"

The video went viral, with the comment section overflowing with praise for how perfect they looked together. As I watched my boyfriend gaze lovingly at his first love, the sight of the untouched feast in front of me made my heart sink.

"Niall, are you on your way?" I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice as he finally picked up after I called him several times.

"Emilie, I might be a little late. Something came up," he said, sounding distracted.

I sighed, already feeling the frustration bubbling up. I had reminded him about this dinner for weeks, but I didn’t want to argue, especially not tonight. "Alright, just don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting."

It was supposed to be special day—our anniversary. I had booked a table at one of the city’s most expensive restaurants a month ago. We had both been swamped with work lately, so I made sure he cleared his schedule, hoping we could reconnect over a nice meal.

After hanging up, I went home, took a quick shower and slipped into the red dress he bought me for my last birthday—it was his favorite. Normally, I’m more of a natural look kind of girl, but tonight I took extra care, applying makeup and styling my hair just the way he liked. I wanted everything to be perfect.

At the restaurant, a polite waiter guided me to our table by the fountain. The ambiance was elegant, with soft lighting and the gentle sound of water creating the perfect setting for a romantic evening. I ordered a glass of wine while waiting, watching couples around me enjoying their meals and each other’s company.

As the minutes ticked by, I checked my phone repeatedly, expecting a message from Niall. But as the hour passed and my glass was empty, there was still no sign of him. My texts went unanswered and my calls went straight to voicemail. Worry began to creep in, but as the minutes turned into an hour, worry gave way to irritation.

"Could I have another glass of wine, please?" I asked the waiter, trying to mask my frustration.

"Of course, ma’am. Would you like to order now, or wait a bit longer?" he asked, probably noticing the empty seat across from me.

"Bring out the food now," I said, trying not to sound too annoyed. I had carefully chosen dishes I knew Niall would love and I wasn’t going to let them go to waste.

The waiter nodded and quickly returned with two beautifully presented plates. The food looked exquisite, though I barely knew the names of the dishes. I poked at the food, my appetite waning as I wondered where the hell Niall could be.

Just as I was about to give up on the evening altogether, I noticed someone approaching my table. "Emilie, right?"

I looked up to see Isaac Bischof, one of Niall’s friends from college. We had worked on a few projects together, so I forced a smile despite feeling utterly embarrassed. "Hey, Isaac. What are you doing here?"

"I just had dinner with my wife. And you...?" he asked, his expression puzzled as he glanced at the empty seat.

"Well, Niall and I were supposed to have an anniversary dinner," I said, trying to sound casual, though my voice wavered slightly.

"Really? I thought he is at that award show tonight, didn’t you see the video?" he said, frowning in confusion.

"Award show? What award show?" I asked, my stomach sinking with dread.

"His company’s sponsoring it. I also saw his story on Instagram a couple of hours ago," he explained, pulling up a photo of Niall on the red carpet, looking sharp and smiling alongside a famous singer.

I felt my heart drop. "Well, I guess he forgot to mention that. Thanks for the headsup, or I’d still be sitting here waiting," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Isaac looked awkward, clearly regretting his words. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to... there’s probably a mixup. You should talk to him."

"Don’t worry about it. If anything, I should thank you," I said, forcing a smile, though inside, I was fuming.

After Isaac left, I sat there, staring at the untouched food. Niall had never stood me up like this before. We had been together for five years and I had even thought about marrying him someday. But tonight, his actions spoke louder than any words could. He could have at least told me if he wasn’t going to make it.

Trying to calm down, I paid the bill and left the restaurant, my earlier excitement replaced with a bitter sense of disappointment. When I got home, I changed into pajamas, wiped off my makeup and collapsed onto the couch. All that effort, all that hope, wasted. I grabbed my phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract myself.

But then, a video caught my eye—one that several of my friends had shared. My heart sank further as I clicked on it. There was Niall, arm in arm with a beautiful lady, laughing and looking far too comfortable with her. The caption read, [Award Show Chemistry: Pamella Blackwell and a Mysterious Businessman Steal the Spotlight!]

I stared at the screen, disbelief, anger and sadness washing over me as they kissed in the final moments. This was our anniversary and he had chosen to spend it with someone else.

Pamella Blackwell was infamous for her wild ways. Everyone knew her—the queen of the party scene, always out to get guys wrapped around her finger. These days, her love life seemed more talked about than her music career.

The internet exploded into two camps: one group shipping them as a power couple and the other hating on Pamella for her past with men.

[They look good together. Who’s that guy?]

[This is the first decent guy Pamella’s been with. Her exes were all duds.]

[Isn’t he some rich businessman?]

[He’s way too good for her.]

[Can she stop flirting? It’s embarrassing.]

Curious and jealous, I checked Pamella’s social media and saw a story she posted that night. She was leaning on a man’s shoulder, with the caption, [So good to be with you again.]

My stomach twisted. My boyfriend had ditched me on our anniversary and now this? It was beyond humiliating.

I tossed my phone on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. I fell asleep pretty quickly, the whole situation weighing on me.

The next morning, I woke up to a bunch of missed calls and apology texts from Niall.

[Emilie, I'm so sorry. Please call me back, I can explain.

[Em, are you asleep?

[Please call me in the morning. I love you.]

I rolled my eyes, ignored him and got ready for work. As a journalist, I had a pretty solid rep for digging deep into highprofile names—Entertainment stars, wealthy families，you name it. Just a few days ago, I wrote an article exposing a famous wealthy heir for money laundering. and it blew up so much that the police ended up getting involved.

I used to think my life was pretty great—a solid fiveyear relationship with a handsome, rich man, good friends, supportive coworkers and a decent spot in my career. But I had no clue that what happened last night, combined with an upcoming work task, would soon uncover my boyfriend's affair and send me spiraling.

When I stepped outside, Niall was waiting with coffee and my favorite sandwich, trying to smooth things over. I was still annoyed and hurt, so I just grabbed them without saying a word and headed to the office.

“Emilie!” he called after me, but I was already pressing down on the accelerator, leaving him behind.

As I arrived, I overheard my coworkers discussing the viral video. Most of them didn’t know the man in the clip was my boyfriend, since they had never met him.

"Em, did you watch the video I sent you last night?" one of them asked.

"Oh, yeah, I did," I replied, trying to sound casual.

"I think it could be a good story to cover."

"Well, I'm still working on my article. Maybe you can pitch it to Margareta," I suggested.

Right on cue, Margareta walked in. "You girls must've heard about the award show clip last night. It’s a big deal! Everyone’s talking about it. We need to dig up more on the man with Pamella!"

"Yes, Mar," the others chimed in. Meanwhile, I tried to keep my cool, focusing on my own work and pushing down the jealousy gnawing at me.

"What are you working on right now, Emilie?" Margareta asked, catching me off guard.

"The fraud I mentioned a couple of weeks ago?"

"Is it done yet?" she asked, walking over.

"Not quite, but almost..." I started, but she cut me off. "Em, let’s put that on hold. We need you on this hot news first."

"Mar, you know I’m not into celebrity gossip," I protested.

"I know you prefer the serious stuff, like exposing big cases. You’ve got integrity and awards to back it up. But why not switch it up? Your trafficking story might get lost in the noise with all this buzz about Pamella and her mystery man. Give it some thought."

"I’ll think about it," I replied, not entirely convinced as she patted my back and walked away.

Before lunch, Margareta called me into her office again. "Emilie, you’re on the Pamella and mystery man story. Everything else can wait," she said as I sat down.

"But I'm almost done with my current piece. Can’t you assign this to someone else?" I asked.

"Sorry, Em. The CEO loves your work, but he wants us to play it safe for now after stirring up some big names. It’s for your own good too. Celeb stories can be fun, trust me. And no one knows who this guy is yet. He’s super private. Don’t let the competition beat us to it. This could boost your profile too,” she said.

I hesitated and said, “But what if there’s nothing going on between them? What if they’re just friends? I don’t want to spread rumors.”

Margareta smiled, “That’s exactly why we need you. Investigate, get the truth. If there’s nothing to it, you can clear their names too.”

I couldn’t really argue. This assignment was mine whether I liked it or not.

I dragged myself back to my chair and dialed up my goto investigator, Sean Brians.

"Hey, Sean. How’s it going?"

"Not much. Who’s the new target now?" he asked.

"You saw that viral clip from the Stellar Sound Awards last night?"

"Yeah, the new couple, right?"

"Yep, that’s them. I’ll send over their details. Just keep me posted like usual," I said.

He chuckled. "Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d cover celeb scandals, Em."

I hung up, not really in the mood for jokes and sent him the addresses for Niall and Pamella.

Then, I started browsing everything I could find about Pamella online. There wasn’t much on Niall besides some articles about his startup, but Pamella? There were tons of stories, mostly about her chaotic love life. She had dated some big names and one guy even claimed she used him before they had a very public fallout.

I scrolled through the mess, frowning, when my phone rang—it was Niall. I hesitated but picked up.

"Emilie, are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner and make up for missing our anniversary," he said.

Still angry, I wanted to turn him down, but curiosity got the better of me. I needed to hear his side of things and, more importantly, I wanted to know what was really going on between him and Pamella.

So, after work, I drove to the restaurant where Niall was already waiting, holding a bouquet and giving me that warm smile.

"Hey, beautiful."

Normally, that might’ve melted my heart, but not this time. I accepted the flowers in silence.

As we sat down and waited for our food, Niall started, "I’m really sorry I missed our anniversary dinner. I went to the awards show because my startup supported it and I got a free pass. I only planned to stay for an hour, but then I ran into an old friend—Pamella. She’s a singer now."

He paused, probably waiting for my reaction, but I just listened, stonefaced.

"We caught up and then Pamella had a panic attack. She asked me to stay with her until the event was over. I muted my phone, so I didn’t realize you were trying to reach me. By the time I remembered, it was already 9 PM. I rushed to the restaurant, but you were gone."

I rolled my eyes, not buying it entirely. "So, what’s your relationship with Pamella?"

He shifted nervously, avoiding my gaze. "We were friends in college and we haven’t seen each other since graduation."

I pulled out my phone and showed him the viral video. "Your kissing video is everywhere. People are making a big deal about it."

Niall shook his head and replied, "Don’t listen to the internet. There’s nothing going on between us, it’s just for the show."

I wanted to believe him and for a moment, I did.

But when I got home, I started secondguessing. I called Sean, debating whether to cancel the whole thing and tell Margareta that there was nothing between Niall and Pamella. My gut was telling me to protect my relationship, but my head was still spinning.

When Sean answered, something in his tone made me doubt everything all over again.

"Emilie, I've got some bad news," Sean said over the phone. "I know he's your boyfriend because I just saw you two having dinner together."

I tensed up. Sean went on to explain that he and his team had followed Niall and Pamella that day. They had met up at a private country club, arriving in separate cars.

I gulped. "So, you know about my relationship now. Keep that under wraps, okay?"

Sean hesitated before asking, "Are you sure you want to go through with this investigation? You okay?"

I gritted my teeth and forced a calm tone. "Yeah, just keep digging. I can handle it."

My doubts about Niall's story were growing. I could not shake the feeling that there might be something more going on. Then I remembered Isaac, an old friend of Niall’s who I’d bumped into at the restaurant. I shot him a text, [Hi, Isaac. Sorry for the late message, but can we meet up tomorrow? I need to ask you something.]

He replied quickly, [Sure, let’s meet up.]

The next day at the office, I reached out to some of my media contacts, including a few who had been involved with the award show. I asked them what they knew about Pamella and Niall, their interactions, anything at all. Most of them admitted they hadn’t really paid attention until the big screen showed Pamella and that guy kissing. But one person mentioned that the two left together in the same car.

My stomach dropped I didn’t want to dig deeper, but I forced myself to stay calm. Then, Margareta called me into her office. I figured she wanted an update.

Sure enough, I was right. I hesitated before mentioning that I had found out they met at a country club.

Margareta looked at me, sensing something was off. “You’re not usually this hesitant, Emilie. You usually go all in on stories, but this one feels different. You’re holding back.”

I tried to brush it off. “I feel like an annoying paparazzi chasing after a celebrity’s love life.”

“It’s no different from other stories and this one’s going to get a lot of attention. By the way, an insider told me Pamella was at the afterparty with some guy at a club. Find out if it was the same man.”

I sighed. “Alright, I’ll check it out. Send me the club details.”

“That's more like it,” she said with a smile.

My plan was to meet Isaac first, then head to the club. After work, I met up with Isaac. He got straight to the point and asked, "So, what do you want to talk about? Is this about Niall?"

I was caught off guard by how quickly he guessed. “Let’s grab a drink first,” I suggested, trying to ease into the conversation.

Once we had our drinks, I finally asked, “I was wondering if you knew anything about Pamella and Niall. You were their friend, right?”

Isaac nodded slowly. “I didn’t know Pamella that well, but Niall and Pamella dated during the first semester of college, for about a year, before she left to pursue her singing career. She was his first girlfriend.”

I was shocked. I thought they were just old friends. “Did they stay in touch after breaking up?”

“Not that I know of. Pamella was busy with her new celebrity life and boyfriends.”

I sighed. So, they did have a history and Niall conveniently left that part out. Isaac noticed my troubled expression and asked, “Did you two argue because of that video?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I admitted.

“I don’t know much about the situation, but I hope you guys can work it out. You’re good for him, unlike some women who are just after his money now that DirectDeal is a success,” he said earnestly.

I forced a smile. DirectDeal was Niall’s startup, an ecommerce platform connecting suppliers directly to buyers. It was still in its early stages when we started dating and he faced a lot of setbacks, especially from distributors.

I helped him out by writing some positive articles and using my media connections to get his brand noticed. Now, after five years, it had taken off and even secured big investments this year. The future looked bright.

After some small talk about Isaac’s family and our work, we said goodbye and I headed to the club Margareta mentioned, The Nocturne.

Once there, I asked a waitress about the award afterparty. She said she wasn’t on duty that night but suggested I talk to Mary, another waitress who was there. “She’s got red hair and freckles, easy to spot,” the waitress said.

I looked around and saw a redhaired girl in an apron dragging a large trash bag toward the side door.

“Mary?” I called out, startling her.

“Who are you? If you’re here about my brother’s debt, I’ve cut ties with him years ago!” She quickly tried to walk away, still dragging the bag.

“No, no, it’s not that,” I assured her.

“So, what do you want?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m a journalist, Emilie Stohr.”

“A journalist? Oh, God, did he attack someone again? Look, I really can’t talk right now,” she said, trying to hurry off.

“No, it’s not about your brother. I just wanted to ask about a party here a few days ago.”

“A party? There are always parties here.”

“The Stellar Sound Award afterparty. You know, the one Pamella Blackwell attended?”

“Oh, that one. Are you a paparazzi?”

“Well, sort of. But did you see her there?”

“Yeah, but I can’t talk about customers. Sorry, no can do,” Mary replied, trying to brush me off.

“One hundred dollars. I’ll pay you for any information.”

She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her voice. “We can’t talk here. Let’s meet somewhere else.”

We exchanged numbers and planned to meet the next day.

As planned, I met Mary at a diner the next morning and she told me Pamella was completely wasted that night. She was getting pretty handsy and all over some goodlooking guy Mary didn’t recognize.

I pulled up the viral video of Niall and Pamella at the award show and asked, “Does this guy look familiar?”

Mary squinted at the screen, her brows furrowing in concentration. “Yeah, that could be him. Same build, same clothes.”

“Mary, if you can get me the CCTV footage, I’ll give you more money,” I offered.

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I’ll need double for this one. I’ve gotta sweettalk the security guy, but I’ll get you the footage of Pamella and that man.”

We agreed and Mary left. I sat there, unsure of my next move. Part of me wanted to confront Niall, but another part wasn’t sure if I should even continue digging into this mess.

When I got back to the office, I found Margareta still in a meeting with the new CEO. The guy was young and hardly ever in the city, always jetting off for business deals.

I busied myself with research for about an hour until Margareta finally came down. “Em, Mr. Cardinale wants to see you.”

My stomach did a little flip as I headed to the CEO’s office. I knocked and stepped in and we talked about the site’s progress.

“Congrats, Emilie,” he said, smiling. “I’ve heard great things about your work. Keep this up and there could be a promotion to one of our international offices in your future.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure working here.”

We exchanged polite smiles before I excused myself. I was relieved when the meeting was over—he wasn’t someone we saw around the office much and talking to him made me nervous.

Back at my desk, I worked until lunchtime. Just as I was about to take a break, Margareta popped up behind me. “Let’s grab lunch,” she suggested.

I agreed and we headed to a small hot dog stall nearby. As we ate, she asked, “How’s the story coming along?”

I forced a smile and filled her in on what I had found so far. She reminded me that I only had a few days to wrap it up.

“Do you have anything solid on the guy yet?” she asked.

I hesitated. I knew a lot about the guy—he was my boyfriend, after all—but I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal. “I’m still gathering info. So far, I’ve just got the basics—name, job, that sort of thing.”

Just then, a text buzzed on my phone. It was from Mary, which read, [Emilie, my friend told me Pamella will be staying at the hotel where she works tonight. You might want to check it out.]

I thanked Mary and then called Sean to update him on the info I got. "So, anything new on your end?" I asked.

"Niall’s been sticking to his usual routine and Pamella left town for a bit. Nothing out of the ordinary," Sean replied.

After that, I decided to call Niall to make sure. "Hey, can we meet tonight?" I asked.

“I’d love to, but I’m stuck at work late tonight,” he said.

A sense of unease settled in, but I forced myself to say, “Alright, no problem.”

I filled Margareta in on the situation before heading straight to the hotel Mary had mentioned. I found a seat in the lobby, pretending to be just another guest as I waited. Across the street, Isaac was sitting at a café, playing his part as a casual passerby.

I opened my laptop, trying to focus on writing up the story based on what I had uncovered so far. The idea of exposing Niall still gnawed at me—he was such a private person.

I tried calling him again, but it went straight to voicemail. A few minutes later, I got a text from him, which read, [Sorry, in a meeting. Can’t talk right now.]

Before I could reply, a sudden commotion erupted near the entrance. There was cheering, the flash of cameras and a flurry of footsteps. I knew instantly that Pamella had arrived. Sure enough, she stepped out of a sleek car, taking a few moments to pose for photos and sign autographs before making her way inside with her bodyguards.

The group took seats just a few rows behind me while the manager checked them in. I silently thanked myself for putting on a little disguise earlier and quickly closed all my tabs related to Pamella.

As the lobby quieted down, with only the soft background music playing, Pamella’s voice cut through. “Hey, use your eyes! Are you dumb? Why are you putting my twentythousanddollar Birkin on the floor? Give me that! Moron!”

There were always rumors about her being rude to her staffs and this was just another one to add to the list. She had a wellearned reputation as a diva.

“Someone, take me to the toilet now!” Pamella barked and one of her staff quickly followed her to the restroom.

I overheard two women behind me, who I assumed were also her staff, whispering to each other.

“I’m so over her. Did you hear what she said earlier?”

“Yeah, me too. We should find another job. I heard Baye’s going on a world tour and needs more people.”

“The Queen Baye? That would be amazing. At least she’s not a flop like Pam.”

“Yeah, her career is tanking this year. She didn’t even win anything at the Stellar Sound Awards.”

“You heard about her latest victim? Poor guy.”

“Oh, that businessman? I just hope he doesn’t lose his head and fall into her trap.”

My breath caught in my throat, wondering if they were talking about someone I knew all too well.

“Shush! Just let them be. It’s showbiz,” another woman added, trying to calm the conversation.

I felt a surge of anxiety and had to fight the urge to jump into their conversation. Instead, I kept my head down, pretending to be busy on my laptop.

Then, Pamella reappeared, chatting on her phone. “Yeah, honey, see you at my room tonight, then.” She smirked as she ended the call.

The manager quickly handed out the room keys, then walked off, followed by the staff struggling with Pamella’s mountain of luggage. I exhaled in relief, taking a moment to steady myself. Then I pulled out my phone and texted Mary, [Hey, can you find out what floor Pamella is on?]

A few minutes later, Mary replied, [My friend isn’t sure if she can give out that info.]

I rolled my eyes and typed back, [Tell her I’ll give her 50 bucks.]

A pause, then Mary responded, [She wants 100.]

I sighed, but I needed that information, so I agreed. Moments later, Mary texted back, [20th floor, room 2001.]

A small smile crept onto my face. Perfect. I quickly packed up my laptop and headed over to the receptionist. “I’d like to book a room on the 20th floor, please,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

The young receptionist glanced at me for a moment, probably sizing me up, before asking for my ID and making the reservation. A few clicks later, she handed me the key. “Room 2010.”

“Thank you,” I said with a polite smile, tucking the key into my pocket. I felt a mix of excitement and nerves as I made my way to the elevator. I was getting closer to the truth, even if it meant staying in the same hotel as Pamella.

When I got to my room, I noticed it was directly across from Pamella’s. That little detail made me grin—things were lining up perfectly. I pulled out a portable mini spy camera from my bag, stuck it discreetly on my door and connected it to my laptop via Bluetooth. Now I had a clear view of the hallway and could monitor any movement right from my screen.

I settled in and waited, staring at the screen for what felt like forever. But nothing happened. The hallway remained as quiet as a grave and boredom started creeping in. I didn’t want to risk missing anything, so I picked up my phone and called Margareta.

"Hey, Mar. Where are you now?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

She didn’t buy it for a second. "Why do you want to know? I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

"Come on," I urged. "I booked a room at the hotel where Pamella’s staying. Stay here with me and we can take shifts watching the camera. You’re the one who told me to go all in, right?"

She sighed, clearly torn. "But tomorrow’s the weekend. I need some family time, you know, away from work."

I knew Margareta wouldn’t be easily convinced, so I sweetened the deal. "How about a free spa day at the hotel? My treat."

There was a pause, then a reluctant, "Okay, fine. Just send me the address."

I couldn’t help but cheer a little as I hung up the phone, knowing I had just secured some backup for the long night ahead.

Thirty minutes later, Margareta arrived. I was still parked in front of my laptop, scrolling through social media to pass the time.

After setting her stuff down, she said, "Move aside, let me take a look."

"Thanks, Mar. I appreciate it so much," I said, sending her a playful air kiss.

I flopped onto the bed and turned my attention to Pamella’s latest social media update. She had posted a photo of her legs in a bathtub, surrounded by flowers. No caption this time, just the lyrics of “Good for You” by Selena Gomez playing softly in the background. The lyrics were seductive.

Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you

I just wanna look good for you, good for you

Let me show you how proud I am to be yours

Leave this dress a mess on the floor

And still look good for you, good for you

It felt like a notsosubtle invite aimed at someone specific, so I took a screenshot of the post just as my phone rang. It was Isaac. "Em, just wanted to give you a headsup. Niall's heading toward the hotel now."

I paused for a moment before replying, "Okay, stay sharp and snap some pics if you see him."

Margareta, noticing my tense expression, asked, "What's going on?"

I forced a smile. "Nothing, everything's fine." Then I made my way to the bathroom for a bath.

Once I was in the tub, I sat there, lost in a daze. I couldn’t believe I was actually investigating my boyfriend’s possible affair. The weight of it all was almost too much to bear. My chest felt tight, but no tears came. I washed myself off with a mechanical, exhausted routine, feeling like I had no strength left. All I wanted was to curl up in bed and forget the world.

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to process the chaos, I suddenly heard rapid knocks on the bathroom door.

“Yeah?” I called out, but Margareta kept shouting my name.

I quickly threw on my bathrobe and hurried out. Margareta looked excited but also concerned. “I just saw a guy walk into Pamella’s room,” she said. “And he was carrying a bouquet of roses.”

Margareta looked so happy, but my heart sank. The gut feeling I had was confirmed. I nodded and sat back down in front of the laptop. I replayed the camera footage from earlier and sure enough, there was a tall guy in a black suit strolling into Pamella’s room, bouquet in hand.

I felt lightheaded and had trouble catching my breath. Margareta was buzzing about how big this news could be, but then she noticed how pale I was and asked if I was alright.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I muttered, grabbing my phone and locking myself in the bathroom.

Once inside, I threw up everything I had eaten, tears streaming down my face. Margareta’s concerned voice came through the door, “Hey, are you okay? Emilie?”

I slumped against the bathroom floor and shouted back, “Shut up! I’m fine!” My throat was sore and I couldn’t stop crying. I let it all out until the heaviness in my chest lightened.

When I finally managed to stand up, I washed my mouth and face with cold water, trying to pull myself together. I flushed the toilet, still sobbing.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, my face was red and blotchy from crying. I continued to sob for about ten minutes, my nose stuffed up and my breaths coming in ragged gasps. After washing my face again and drying it with a towel, I plopped down on the toilet, trying to breathe normally.

Finally, I felt a bit more composed and checked my phone. As expected, Isaac had sent me a WhatsApp message with a few photos.

Trembling, I opened Isaac's message and my heart sank as I saw the photos.

[Emilie, I saw him entering the hotel.]

[4 photos attached]