39. Chapter 38
T roy
The Bradshaw family arrived at the gala in splendour, as expected.
It was an event their name had been tied to for years, a gathering of Brighton's elite, filled with old money, business moguls, and socialites who thrived on exclusivity.
The grand ballroom of the venue was a vision of opulence-massive crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over polished marble floors, the clink of champagne glasses and murmured conversations blending into an ambient hum of wealth and power.
Troy Bradshaw had no interest in being here.
He had arrived separately from his family, unwilling to deal with his mother's veiled comments or his sister's nervous glances.
His father had been dead for years, but his presence still lingered like a shadow over these events-a man who had valued legacy over love, prestige over parenthood.
Troy had learned early that familial bonds had no place in the Bradshaw household, only expectations.
And then there was Lila.
She had arrived separately as well, making her entrance with the practiced grace of someone who knew exactly how to draw attention without seeming to demand it.
Draped in a midnight blue gown that clung to her curves, she was a picture of calculated elegance, her dark hair swept into an intricate updo, a diamond necklace resting just above her collarbone.
Troy had kept a watchful eye on her across the room.
She was always lingering just close enough to be within reach, never too far to be forgotten.
Troy made a deliberate effort to keep his distance. He engaged in conversation with a group of acquaintances who were into the technical side of the job near the bar, keeping his focus sharp, ensuring that Lila remained outside his periphery. He refused to be drawn into her games tonight.
But Lila had a way of slipping past defences.
While he was mid-conversation with an old acquaintance, a sudden shift in the air made the hairs on his neck stand on end. Before he could react, he felt the feather-light touch of fingers brushing against his shoulder. A seemingly casual gesture-except it wasn't.
He turned just as the camera flash went off.
The sharp click of the lens was like the snap of a trap.
Troy's stomach clenched as he took in the scene in that split second-the smug satisfaction in Lila's eyes, the way she subtly angled herself toward him, her hand lingering just long enough for the moment to be immortalized.
And standing just a few feet away, a reporter, lowering his camera with an unmistakable look of triumph.
Rage surged through him. He stepped back, shrugging off Lila's touch as though it burned him. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get away from me." His voice was low, controlled, but laced with fury.
Lila's smile never faltered. Her eyes hardened with an expression he had never seen before. "Just making sure things fall into place. If you are not brave enough, I will just have to do the job."
The words chilled him .
Troy clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He wanted to yell, to demand an answer, but he already knew what this was. A perfectly timed photograph. A moment that would be circulated by morning. A whisper that would soon become a roar.
His mother, watching from across the room, seemed pleased. His sister looked away, discomfort written in the rigid set of her shoulders.
And his children-
Max's expression was thunderous, his jaw tight with barely concealed fury. Lilly stood beside him, stunned, then resigned.
This wasn't an accident. Lila had orchestrated this moment, and now, she had what she wanted.
But Troy wasn't going to let it stand.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, pushing through the crowd, his pulse hammering in his ears. He reached for his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he scrolled through his contacts.
Jenna.
She hadn't answered his calls in weeks. But now-
He hesitated, staring at her name on the screen. The truth settled over him like a heavy weight. She was going to see this. The whole world was going to see this.
And that was exactly what Lila had intended.
Troy swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the phone.
He had been blind for too long. Had let things slide for too long. He had let Jenna walk away without fighting for her.
He wasn't going to let this be the end.
He didn't know how, but he was going to fix this. He would make things right, no matter what it took .
And with a desperate hope, he prayed that Jenna hadn't already seen the news.
But then, the weight of the night, the noise, the pressure-it all became too much.
His breath shortened, his pulse pounded in his ears like a relentless drum.
His fingers clenched around his phone, but it felt too heavy.
The world around him dulled, as if he were sinking into a silent void.
He needed control, but it was slipping through his fingers like sand.
Mack was the first to notice. Troy's closest friend had seen this before-the blank stare, the way his jaw tensed unnaturally, how his shoulders locked as if he were bracing against a storm only, he could see.
"Troy." Mack's voice was firm but steady. "Come on, mate. Let's get out of here."
Max and Lilly were at his side in an instant. Max's hand hovered near his father's arm, uncertain but ready. "Dad?"
Lilly's brows furrowed in worry. "Is he okay?"
Mack didn't answer. Instead, he guided Troy gently but firmly out of the ballroom, through the cool night air that barely registered against Troy's burning skin.
He barely registered the drive home, Mack's steady presence beside him, the familiar voices of his children nearby.
He just knew that he needed silence, space-anything to keep from unravelling completely.
Mack got him inside, settling him onto the couch. "You're all right," he murmured, not expecting a response, just grounding him with the words. "You're home now."
Troy closed his eyes and let the world fade, just for a moment.