Page 89 of Cast to be Mine

She reached off-screen and pulled Jack into frame. He looked slightly confused, like he’d just been woken up from a nap, but he rallied quickly.

“What can I say?” Jack shrugged, flashing that movie-star grin. “My wife is hot as a blonde.”

Chantilly giggled and kissed his cheek. The video ended with a link to Chantilly’s YouTube channel.

I sat there, phone in hand, completely stunned.

She’d flipped the entire narrative. Made herself the hero of her own story. The clever mastermind who’d played everyone.

And somehow she’d set me free.

I watched the video again, this time paying closer attention to the behind-the-scenes footage. The quality was professional. Someone had edited this carefully, splicing together multiple angles, adding Micah’s voiceover at exactly the right moments.

Micah.

He’d done this. He had to have. This had his fingerprints all over it. But why would Chantilly have it to post?

Only one way to find out.

I threw off the covers and scrambled to get dressed. My mind was racing, trying to piece together when this had happened, how I’d missed it. I didn’t understand why no one had given me a heads-up.

I was brushing my teeth when I got a video call from Becky. She had sent me six texts.

“Hi,” I answered, spitting out the toothpaste.

“What the hell?” she asked.

I glanced at the screen. She was on the elliptical.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I just woke up.”

“Why didn’t you post that video?”

“Because I didn’t know it existed.”

“Are you going to repost it?”

I wiped my face. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Girl, you are trending,” she said. “At least this time it isn’t for anything bad. You are no longer a homewrecker.”

I laughed. “Yay me.”

“That Chantilly is quite the character,” she said.

“You have no idea.” I put my hair up in a loose bun. “I have to go. I need to go talk to that character and make sure she isn’t setting me up for another scandal. I don’t think I’ll survive it.”

Before I could leave the room, Loretta called. That was another frantic conversation, but she couldn’t be mad at me. I didn’t do it.

I grabbed my keycard and headed for the elevator. It seemed to take forever. I bounced on my heels, watching the floor numbers tick down with agonizing slowness.

When I finally reached Jack and Chantilly’s floor, I practically sprinted down the hallway. The presidential suite was at the end. I knocked. Waited. Knocked again.

The door swung open to reveal Chantilly in a silk robe, her hair wrapped in a towel, a green face mask covering her skin. She looked like a creature from a horror movie, but her eyes lit up when she saw me.

“Grace! Did you see it? Isn’t it amazing?”

“I saw it.” I stepped inside when she gestured me in. “Chantilly, I don’t even know what to say. Thank you. Seriously. Thank you so much.”