Page 130 of The Temporary Bride

My voice hardens as I face my father, my frustration boiling over. “Dad, I need to ask you something directly. Did you know what Genevieve was doing?”

Genevieve’s face flushes a deep red, her eyes widening in shock. I can see the realization dawning on her that her secret is out, and I meet her gaze squarely.

For once, I want her to realize that this isn’t about her.

The discomfort in the room thickens, and my father’s expression goes blank. He hesitates, a moment of indecision crossing his features. I can almost see him weighing whether to lie or to come clean.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and meets my gaze. “The decision was made to keep you out of it,” he says, his tone measured but cold. “We thought it was best for you not to be involved.”

I had hoped for honesty, for transparency, but instead, I’m met with this calculated dodge. Of course. I’m not sure why I expected anything different.

I listen in stunned silence as my father continues, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “Genevieve told me and your mother about your feelings for Tristan. We never expected you to develop such emotions, and frankly, we couldn’t trust you to put the company’s interests first if you were emotionally involved.”

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. The realization that my own sister reported my private feelings back to our parents—feelings I shared with her in confidence—makes me sick.

I glance at Genevieve, who’s now avoiding my stare, her own gaze fixed on the floor beside my father’s desk.

The betrayal cuts deeper than I could have ever imagined.

Not only did Genevieve sneak into my office to steal sensitive information from Tristan, but she also took my most personal revelations and used them against me. Nausea rolls through me as it sinks in.

I opened up to her, and she turned my vulnerability into a weapon.

I’ve seen the way Tristan and his brothers interact, the way they support each other. I’ve seen them come to each other’s defense dozens of times, like they’re taking on the world together.

What Genevieve did to me, what my parents did to me, that isn’t how family is supposed to work.

“I don’t understand why you had to spy at all,” I say, turning back to my father. “Wasn’t the partnership with Thorne Enterprises enough? MediaSphere has been doing well on its own. Why did you think this was necessary to get ahead? We were already in a strong position.”

My father’s eyes narrow, something passing across his features—pity and disdain. “Good lord. You really don’t understand, do you?”

I stare back at him blankly.

“This is a cutthroat business,” he says, his voice slow and condescending, like he’s explaining something to a child. “It’s not just about being good or having a successful partnership. It’s about staying ahead of the competition. Being strategic. Sometimes that means making the tough choices, doing things that others don’t have the spine to do.”

“Cheating,” I interrupt. “You’re talking about cheating.”

His lip curls. “I’m talking about winning.”

“Winning doesn’t mean anything if you don’t play by the rules,” I retort. “Why did you have to ruin everything?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Then he says, “This is why we wanted to leave you out of it. You weren’t going to be rational, given your feelings for Tristan Thorne.”

Anger tightens my voice. “Don’t bring Tristan into this. I’d be just as pissed even if I wasn’t involved with him.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Then you’re naive. You have no idea what it takes to get ahead in this industry.”

I take a deep breath, something settling into place. “I can’t be a part of this, whatever this is. If winning means losing myself and my principles, then I don’t want any part of it.”

“Speak up,” he demands, his tone curt.

I know he heard me the first time. But I lift my chin and project my voice clearly across the room. “I said, I don’t want any part of this. I quit.”

There’s a tense pause. My father’s face hardens, anger and something almost like disappointment crossing his features.

“You’re making a mistake,” he says, his voice tight and controlled. “You’re walking away from everything we’ve built, from everything you’ve worked for.”

I stand my ground. “No, I’m walking away from compromising who I am. If this is what it takes to be part of MediaSphere, then it’s not worth it. I’m not going to be your pawn anymore.”