15. Leslie The Ultimate Betrayal
Leslie: The Ultimate Betrayal
The conference room is silent, but the weight of it is crushing. My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure they can hear it.
Kyle’s words echo in my head.
“Stay the hell away from my children.”
It feels like a punch to the chest. My breath catches, my hands trembling as I stare at him, hoping—praying—for something. A sign that he doesn’t really mean it. That this isn’t happening.
But his face is cold. His jaw tight. His eyes empty.
For the first time since I started falling for him, he looks at me like I’m a stranger. Like I don’t matter.
A deep ache spreads through my chest, sharp and unbearable.
The room stays silent, the board members watching me with judgment in their eyes. But nothing hurts as much as Kyle refusing to look at me.
Then—just for a second—I see it.
His fingers twitch. His throat bobs. And when he finally glances at me, something flickers in his eyes.
Hesitation. Regret.
But as the moment passes, his face hardens again, shutting me out completely.
He’s made his choice.
I am nothing to him now.
Mr. Lancaster clears his throat. “Miss Hart, you may leave.”
I suck in a shaky breath, forcing my shoulders back. I will not cry here. I will not let them see how broken I feel.
Pushing up from my chair, I turn and walk out. My legs feel heavy, my vision blurry, but I don’t stop.
The moment I step into the hallway, the tension snaps like a rubber band. My stomach twists. My chest feels tight.
I need to get out of here.
I move forward in a daze, barely noticing the whispers around me.
Then I enter the open office space—and the noise crashes over me like a wave.
People are staring. Murmuring. Judging.
"Did you hear?"
"She’s finished."
"I knew she was too close to Donovan. It was only a matter of time."
I swallow hard and keep walking.
I don’t stop until I reach my office, the place that once felt safe.
Now, it feels like a trap.
Like enemy territory.
I don’t have much here—just a framed picture of my dog, a small potted plant, and a few personal files.
I grab them quickly, forcing myself to focus, but my hands shake as I shove them into my bag.
A shadow falls over me.
Amanda.
She leans against the cubicle wall, arms crossed, smirking. “Tough break, Leslie.”
I clench my jaw.
I won’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
Zipping my bag, I straighten and meet her gaze with a cold stare.
Her smirk widens. “You look a little pale. Should I call someone? Maybe Anthony Reeves?”
My pulse spikes, but I don’t flinch.
She’s testing me. Digging into the wound, waiting for me to crack.
Not here. Not now.
I lift my chin, adjust my bag on my shoulder, and walk past her without a word.
I feel her eyes on me the whole way out.
By the time I reach my car, my body is shaking.
I toss my bag onto the passenger seat and grip the steering wheel with both hands. My breath is ragged, uneven.
How did this happen?
One moment, I had Kyle. His trust. His warmth.
Now, I have nothing.
He didn’t even fight for me. He didn’t hesitate to turn his back.
A strangled sob escapes me, and before I know it, the tears come in waves—hot and relentless.
I press my forehead against the steering wheel, my chest heaving.
This isn’t fair.
I’ve worked too hard for this. I would never betray Kyle. I would never do something like this.
But someone wanted me gone. Someone made sure of it.
Who?
I don’t even know where to start.
With a shaking hand, I grab my phone and dial Grace.
She picks up on the first ring. “Hey, Les—” She stops, then her voice softens. “Are you crying?”
I try to answer, but the moment I open my mouth, another sob breaks free.
“Leslie?” Grace’s voice sharpens with worry. “What happened? Talk to me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I—I can’t—”
“Okay, okay. Just breathe,” she soothes. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Just come over, okay?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Okay.”
“Drive safe,” she says gently. “I’ll be here.”
I end the call and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
Then, with my heart still breaking, I start the car and pull out of the parking lot.
I need to get to Grace.
Because right now, she’s the only person in the world who’s still on my side.
***
By the time I reach Grace’s house, my hands won’t stop shaking.
I don’t remember the drive here. I barely remember pulling into her driveway, climbing out of my car, knocking on her door.
It all blurs together—a mess of shock, betrayal, and heartbreak.
Then the door swings open, and Grace takes one look at me before pulling me inside.
"Jesus, Leslie," she breathes, guiding me to the couch. "What the hell happened?"
I shake my head, pressing my palms to my face. My breath is uneven, and I feel like I might come apart right here in her living room.
I don’t even know where to start.
Grace disappears into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water, pressing it into my hands.
"Drink," she orders, sitting beside me. "Then tell me everything."
I take a slow sip, trying to steady myself.
And then it all spills out.
The pictures. The emails. The board meeting. The way Kyle looked at me—like I was nothing.
By the time I finish, my throat is raw, and my hands are clenched into fists.
Grace exhales sharply. "So someone set you up?"
I nod, my jaw tight. "It has to be. I didn’t send those emails, Grace.”
She grips my hand. "We’ll figure it out. Whoever did this, they must have left a trail somewhere."
I want to believe her. I need to believe her.
But Kyle didn’t believe me. The board didn’t believe me.
And without proof, what chance do I have?
Grace studies me for a moment, her brows pulling together. "Wait . . . What about the pictures? Why were you with Reeves?"
I blink. "What?"
"Anthony Reeves. Your former boss. You said there were pictures of you leaving the restaurant with him. What was that about?"
A cold shiver runs through me. "It’s not what it looked like."
Grace crosses her arms. "Then tell me everything."
I exhale, rubbing my temples. "He called me yesterday after those pictures of me and Kyle surfaced online, along with that TikTok video. He said he had information that could help clear my name—but only if I came back to Pinnacle Management."
Grace’s lips press into a thin line. "And?"
"I told him no. That I was fine where I was. That I didn’t like his . . . unorthodox approach to things, and that’s why I left in the first place."
"And he just accepted that?"
"Yeah. He didn’t push it. I only went because I respected him, and I wanted to hear what he had to say. But the second I realized there were strings attached, I told him I wasn’t interested."
Grace tilts her head for me to continue. "When I decided to leave, he insisted on walking me to my car. I didn’t see any harm in it, so I let him. That was it. Nothing more."
She exhales, running a hand through her hair. "Leslie . . . I believe you. But with those emails you say they have? No one else is going to believe you after seeing pictures like that."
A lump rises in my throat. "I know." My voice is barely above a whisper. "But I couldn’t have done this, Grace. I wouldn’t. I can't try to sabotage someone I . . ." I stop, my chest tightening.
Grace’s eyes narrow. "Someone you what?"
I swallow hard, my pulse hammering.
She tilts her head. "Leslie . . . are you saying you love Kyle?"
The words hit like a jolt to my chest. Love? My throat tightens.
I want to deny it. I should deny it. But the truth is clawing its way out, raw and painful.
My lips part, my heartbeat a wild, frantic rhythm.
Say it. Admit it.
But before I can—
My phone vibrates.
A sharp, almost violent buzz.
I frown, pulling it from my bag.
A new message.
Unknown number.
I open it.
How does it feel, Leslie? To get a taste of your own medicine?
Ice slides down my spine.
The room tilts.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I read the words again.
A taste of my own medicine?
What the hell does that mean?
I stare at the screen, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts.