Chapter 43 She Thought She Won
Apple POV
I hate mornings now.
They used to feel full of possibility. New messages. New followers. New brand deals waiting in my inbox. Validation, waiting for me to claim it.
Now there was nothing.
A few thousand likes, if I was lucky. A handful of comments. Most of them hateful.
I sat on the white leather couch and scrolled through my notifications, jaw tight, watching strangers dissect my life like they had any right. They spoke with such certainty, like they knew me. Like they understood what I had done, what I deserved.
They didn’t know me. They only knew the version of me the internet twisted into a villain.
Before I could spiral further, I clicked out of the app.
They didn’t understand what it took to become someone. What it cost. What I had done.
What I had endured.
My gaze drifted to the mirror across the room. The face staring back was perfect. I had made sure of that. A nose job at nineteen. Lip fillers at twenty-one. Subtle cheek implants last year. Every procedure carefully researched and chosen.
No one had given me anything. I had built myself from nothing. I’d transformed myself into someone people couldn’t look away from.
But God, the things I’d done to get there. Things I'd never admit to anyone.
The yacht parties in Dubai still made my stomach twist. Those men with their cold hands and colder eyes, the things they expected, demanded, took.
I could still smell the expensive cologne mixed with salt water and something darker, could still feel the way my skin had crawled even as I smiled and played the part.
The last time had nearly broken me. The Saudi businessman who’d gotten too rough, too perverted. I’d locked myself in the yacht bathroom afterward, mascara streaked down my cheeks, staring at a stranger in the mirror and trying to remember why the money mattered.
But it mattered.
It had paid off.
Ten million followers at my peak. Sponsorships. Free products. Invitations to exclusive events. A life people envied.
I’d made myself into someone.
And then Ashley ruined everything.
It had to be her. Who else would leak those photos, those messages, those carefully buried secrets? She always pretended to be harmless, but she’d been sabotaging me since childhood. This was just the grown-up version of stealing my spotlight.
My phone buzzed with another bill notification. Another reminder that my empire was collapsing.
I considered calling Dad, but I already knew the answer. He’d cut me off the moment the scandal hit, canceled my cards without warning, frozen me out like I was nothing. His own daughter, and he'd discarded me the moment I became inconvenient.
“You’ve embarrassed this family enough,” he’d said. "Figure it out yourself."
Figure it out myself. As if he hadn’t been absent my entire life. As if his money wasn’t the only thing he’d ever given me. And now, when I actually needed him, he turned his back.
And Mom… God. Her arrest was everywhere. Murder charges. Headlines. Mugshots. How could she have been so stupid to get caught? And then she had the nerve to call me from prison, like I was going to come visit her.
Was she insane?
Did she stop to think how humiliating that was for me? How humiliating it was to have my mother’s face on every tabloid, associated with something so sordid?
If she was going to ruin everything, she could have at least finished the job. Ashley had been right there in the house. A baby. Helpless. An inconvenience she chose to leave alive.
And somehow, it had still come back to me. It always did.
If it weren’t for Ashley, I never would have ended up in that man’s hands all those years ago. Never would have gone through any of it.
God, I hated her.
The thought of her made something sharp and ugly twist inside me, hot and suffocating, until it was almost unbearable. I imagined often, what it would feel like to wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until she stopped breathing.
I paced my apartment, the heels of my shoes striking against the floor in uneven rhythms, the sound echoing through a space that looked like luxury but felt anything but. A high-rise I could barely afford now, hemorrhaging money on rent I couldn’t sustain much longer.
The designer clothes in my closet were last season's, and I'd already sold most of my jewelry. The sponsorships had evaporated overnight when the cancellation hit. One day I was promoting luxury skincare and designer handbags; the next, brands were scrambling to distance themselves from me.
My jaw tightened.
Ashley thought she’d won. She thought she’d won him. She thought she could take everything from me and walk away untouched.
She was wrong. She had no idea how close she’d come to losing everything.
I didn't even hesitate when I arranged the kidnapping. I used a burner phone. I’d given them instructions. Clear. Simple. Take her. Break her. Deliver her somewhere she couldn’t crawl back from. Somewhere men like the ones I’d known in Dubai would pay well for a girl like her.
It was what she deserved.
And they still failed. Useless, incompetent animals.
She escaped.
Even worse, Knox had protected her afterward. Stayed beside her. Watched over her like she was important. Like she was precious.
The memory made something bitter and hot twist in my chest.
She wasn’t supposed to be protected. She was supposed to disappear. But somehow she evaded and took the one thing that mattered most.
Knox.
Knox wasn’t just a man. He was everything I’d worked for. Security. Status. Real power. With Knox, I wouldn’t have to worry about follower counts or brand deals. I’d be untouchable.
And he had chosen me. Before Ashley slithered into his life, he’d looked at me like I was the only woman in the room. I’d seen it. I knew it.
Then Ashley appeared, and suddenly I was yesterday’s news.
Just like high school.
The old bitterness rose in my throat like bile.
Every guy had wanted her. They slept with me, but they wanted her. Even Nick, my first real love, had wanted Ashley.
But this time was different. This time I had something she couldn’t take.
I was pregnant with Knox’s baby and once the results came back, he’d know. He’d see we were connected, whether he liked it or not.
I caught my reflection again. Still beautiful. Still perfect. The cancellation hadn’t changed that. They could scream online all they wanted, but they couldn’t take away what I’d built. I was still Apple Richards. Still relevant. Still important.
I could fix this. I would fix this.
Knox would come around once he knew I was carrying his baby, once he saw through Ashley’s manipulation. She’d slip up eventually. And when she did, I’d be there to pick up the pieces.
The internet would forget too. They always did. Some new scandal would distract them, and I’d quietly rebuild.
I opened Instagram again. The hate was still there, but so were the loyal ones.
You’re beautiful, Apple. Don’t let them tear you down. The truth will come out. Ashley is the real villain.
I liked the comment.
Then I started drafting the post I’d release once the DNA results confirmed everything. Something vulnerable. Something that would remind people I was human.
I never wanted to share this publicly.
I hoped to handle this privately, with dignity.
But after weeks of lies, harassment, and attempts to silence me, I have no choice.
The truth always comes out.
Knox is—
Another notification popped up, interrupting my draft.
The DNA testing service. Results ready.
Finally.
This was it. The moment everything shifted back in my favor.
The moment Knox would have no choice but to face me.