The Truth

CHAPTER ONE 

The Truth

Annie's POV 

My phone buzzed that afternoon, and ice shot down my spine as I stared at the screen.

“Hey love, running late. Bringing someone home… my cousin from Cape Town.”

“Alright baby, safe trip.”

The words felt like ash in my mouth the moment I sent them. Cousin from Cape Town? He'd never mentioned a cousin. Not once in five years. Unease twisted in my stomach like barbed wire.

This was the man I'd built my world around. My constant. My anchor. Five years of shared dreams, quiet sacrifices, laughter that used to echo through these walls. He'd always whispered, “we will grow old together.”

I believed him.

As the CEO of Starlight Event Company, he was untouchable. He hosted and planned weddings for billionaires, presidential ceremonies, and galas dripping with wealth. I'd been there too—lending ideas, loving him fiercely—even while working at rival Pleasure Hills.

Tonight was supposed to be our healing. Our new start after months of distance, missed calls, video chats.

Candles flickered across the dining table, lavender and vanilla swirling with the scent of roasted chicken and fries—his favorites.

I wore my red gown he'd given me on Valentine's Day, hugging my body like silk meant only for him.

Everything was perfect.

Everything screamed love.

Until the doorbell rang.

I smiled as I walked to the door. But the smile froze halfway.

Diaman stood there —tall, sharp-suited, breath taking. But he wasn't alone. A woman clung to his arm like she owned it. Her perfume hit before her words —sweet, poisonous, expensive.

“Annie,” Diaman said smoothly. “This is my cousin, Katy. She's pregnant… she'll be staying with us for a while.”

Us.

The word slammed into me like cold steel. Katy's smile was soft, polite—but dripping with venom.

“I've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet the famous Annie.”

Famous? Her tone mocked me. I forced a brittle smile.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“Guest room,” Diaman instructed, kissing my forehead, then my chin. For a second, I felt safe. Then he turned away.

“I prepared your favorite,” I whispered, gripping his hand. My voice is soft, a plea. “Won't you eat with me?”

“Annie, I'm exhausted. Dinner can wait. Show Katy to her room.”

And just like that, he walked away.

The candles flickered against the silence. The room felt too big for one heart.

Katy's eyes roamed lazily.

“Love the scent here,” she inhaled, savoring it. “Smells like… hope. Or desperation.”

I gripped a chair until my knuckles turned white.

“How long are you staying?”

“Oh… a few days. Maybe longer. Depends on how things go.” She said sweetly, patting her bump.

“Alright. Let me show you to your room.”

“Perfect,” she purred. Humming behind me, already at home.

Later, as night crept in, whispers slithered from her room—low, smug, cutting.

“Of course it worked. Men are easy when they're broken. He was practically begging for more that night….”

“His girlfriend didn't even know I was his secretary.”

Office. Begging. Secretary. The words sliced straight into me. She wanted me to hear.

Fury exploded as I stormed into the room, fire in my throat.

“Diaman! What the hell did you do?”

My voice trembled, hands clenched into fists. My heart pounded like a drum in the quiet room.

“What's with the shouting?” He asked.

“Don't!” My voice cracked. “You lied! Katy—your secretary! You told me she was your cousin!”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Annie please —”

“I heard everything. You begged her in your office while I waited like a fool at home!”

“It wasn't supposed to happen! I was drowning! The company was hanging by a thread—investors were—”

“So you unbuttoned your morals to breathe?” I shot back.

“She came with files! I… we were falling apart. You were pulling away. She was there when you weren't.”

“You stopped coming home! Stopped replying to my texts! Stopped calling! And now you blame me? You let a strange woman comfort you! Now she's pregnant, and you can't erase that.”

“Annie, she's not a stranger. Besides, she gave me what you never did.” He looked away.

I let out a shaky laugh, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Because I never got pregnant. Is that it?”

“Legacy matters,” he shrugged.

“And loyalty doesn't? All I got were broken promises.”

“I gave you my best.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You gave me your ego, your stress, your guilt.”

He grabbed his phone from the bed. “Look Annie, I told you the truth. Deal with it or leave.”

I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Alright. I'll deal with it.”

“Good.”

“By walking out of this joke. You can keep your lies. Your secretary.”

“That's the best thing to do if I were you. I was never going to marry you, Annie. You were just something I used to distract myself over the years. I can't marry a lowlife like you. Go find a man like your standard, because no man like me will ever want to spend his life with you. If they want to… it's just to get in between your legs and dump you.”

For a moment, I looked at him—the man I once loved—and saw nothing but a stranger. Another hot tear burned as I reached for the door and slammed it behind me.”

Katy appeared in the hallway, lips curling smugly.

“You're wasting your tears, Annie. He chose me.”

Jaw clenched, tears drying into fury.

“Then enjoy what's left of him.”

She laughed softly.

“I already am.”

The evening air hit me like a slap—sharp, biting —but nothing compared to Diaman's betrayal. Streetlights flickered along the quiet road as I walked aimlessly, the sound of my heels and box echoing through the silence.

My heart was breaking piece by piece. Every memory of his words, her voice, cut deeper. My mind spun, reality overlapping with nightmare. I wanted to wake up because the man I'd spent years with had just betrayed me.

Only one person could stop me from shattering completely: Matteo, my best friend.

My fingers trembled as I pulled out my phone, scrolling until his name appeared. I exhaled heavily, then tapped. Two rings. His warm teasing voice came through, just like always.

“Heey, baby girl… what'sup?”

My throat caught. Words barely escaped.

“Matty… can… can I come over?”

Instantly, his playfulness vanished.

“Of course, sweetie. You sound like a ghost. Are you okay? Where are you? Should I come get you?”

I swallowed, fighting back the sob.

“No… I'm already coming.”

“Okay. Doors open for you.”

As the call ended, I increased my pace, somehow making it to his house. His doors were open—tiny hope shimmering in the darkness.

And there he was, in ridiculous pineapple-print pajamas with a bonnet perched on his head. Normally I'd laugh. Tonight, I couldn't.

Seeing me, his eyes changed—the casual sparkle gone, replaced with worry.

“Jesus…. Annie.”

I crumpled into his arms. The sob I'd held ripped free. He squeezed me like he could wring out the pain from my bones.

When it died down, I leaned back to meet his worried gaze.

“Matty… can I have a bottle of vodka?”

His eyes widened.

“Vodka? Sweetie, you don't even drink coffee without complaining. Now you want vodka? What's wrong? You're scaring me.”

“Please Matty. I… I just want to stop feeling for now.”

“Fine. Vodka it is. But you promise to tell me what's destroying you.”

I promise.

He studied me, then nodded.

“Alright. Come inside.”

His apartment smelled like home. Throw pillows arranged neatly, tiny cactus on the windowsill standing guard. For a moment, his house felt like a sanctuary. I sank into the couch, twisting my hands in my lap.

He returned from the kitchen with bottles and glasses.

“Before you touch that,” he collapsed beside me. You promised to tell me what's eating you. So talk.”

I stared at the bottles, then him.

“Diaman came home with a lady tonight… his secretary. He lied, told me she was his cousin. She's pregnant…. With him.”

The words tumbled out, heavy with tears. “When I confronted him… he didn't deny it. He said he never meant to marry me… just used me all these years. Bringing her home was the only way he could tell me.”

“That bastard! After five years! He is an asshole! A spoiled brat that should be dealt with! My love… I'm so sorry.”

Then his tone softened, teasing.

“You want me to slash his tires? Break his kneecaps? Even bleach his boxer's?”

“You're ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously devoted to you. What do you need?”

I didn't answer. I slid to the floor, reaching for a bottle. He joined me silently, t

wisting the cap open. The first sip burned, but I kept drinking. One bottle, then two, then three. The room spun. His voice faded into distant hum. The last thing I felt was his hand tucking a blanket around me.