I snatched my phone back. "I sent the divorce papers to your email. Sign them."
Caleb sighed, exasperated. "Stop being angry. Faye's been shouldering your burden. You shouldn't be jealous over nothing."
"I brought you a gift. I was going to give it to you tomorrow..."
"Oh! I'm so sorry." Faye's voice rang out from under the covers in a startled little gasp.
She sat up, a gold-and-gemstone necklace dangling from her neck. "Sophie, I accidentally put on your necklace."
She unclasped the pendant resting against her chest and walked over, reaching to fasten it around my neck. "Please don't be mad. I'm giving it back."
The moment the chain touched my skin, it was still warm from her body heat, slick with her sweat.
Nausea surged through me. I ripped the necklace off and hurled it at her.
She let out a shriek. "Caleb!"
He frowned. "Sophie!"
I backhanded him across the face, then turned and walked out of that revolting place.
Without thinking, my feet carried me to a run-down little apartment.
This was the place we'd rented five years ago, back when our careers were just starting to take off. Later, once the money started coming in, Caleb bought it for me.
I stepped inside. The room was filled with plaster torso casts in various shapes and sizes.
After I got sick, he'd started draping his designs on the casts instead of using live models, so I wouldn't overthink things.
He'd pinned photos of those casts to the top of his social media page with the caption:
My eyes are my measuring tape, and they only measure you.
The whole internet envied me. Some people even started placing bets on how long Caleb could keep it up.
I walked farther in and accidentally knocked into a pile of clutter.
A projector flickered to life.
As the images played, I froze where I stood.
It was Caleb. With different women. Scene after scene after scene.
The plaster casts surrounding me and the bodies moving on the screen blurred together. My fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms.
I drew a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm.
Then I sat down at the computer, organized every piece of evidence, and prepared to release it all.
I opened the social media platform and my eyes went wide.
The top trending topic was a public service campaign: "End Violence, Protect Women."
It featured a set of lightly blurred photos and video clips.
They were images of me being assaulted during my kidnapping five years ago.
Faye's face was resolute on camera. "This is my best friend. She survived an unspeakable assault."
"I've helped her move past her fear. The ones who should feel shame are the attackers, not the victim!"
The comments section overflowed with praise for Faye. But even more of them read:
"Link please."
"HD unblurred, DM me."
People were already sending me obscene messages.
My hands shook as I dialed Caleb's number, trembling with fury.
"You told me every copy was destroyed! Why do you still have them?"
"What gave you the right to hand my photos to Faye for a publicity stunt?!"
His tone was matter-of-fact.
"Faye's been getting some bad press lately. A few brands are about to drop her. She needs a positive, charitable image to stabilize things."
"This doesn't just help Faye through a rough patch. It's good for you too. It helps thousands of women like you step out of the shadows."
Before I could respond, a breathy voice cooed from his end of the line. "Caleb..."
He hung up immediately.
I pressed my hand against my chest, gasping for air.
Just then, my phone rang again. It was the chief counsel of Barber Group.
"Miss Barber, our PR team has already mobilized. We will see that justice is done on your behalf, and we will make them pay dearly."
A moment later, another voice came through, low and commanding, carrying the unmistakable weight of a man accustomed to authority.
"Sweetheart, my private jet is about to land. Pull back for now. Your father will handle the rest."
