The morning light seeped through the curtains, soft and muted, casting a pale gold across the Moretti mansion. Juliet sat at her desk, surrounded by stacks of folders, scattered notes, and coffee cups that had long gone cold.
Two sleepless nights had passed. Not because of Hendrick's betrayal — she had already faced that pain. No, this was something deeper, something whispering beneath the surface, demanding attention.
A name.
A document.
A question that refused to let her rest.
Clara stepped in quietly, holding a manila envelope like it might scorch her hands. "Ma'am… I found what you asked for. Nora Blackwood's past… but there's more."
Juliet's eyes lifted, sharp and wary. "More?"
Clara nodded, taking a deep breath. "When I traced her financial connections, I found that some of her backers were also involved with Moretti Corporation… three years ago."
Juliet frowned. "That's before she came into our lives."
"Yes, ma'am. But one name stood out — Rothwell Investments. They transferred funds to a private account… belonging to Hendrick."
Juliet's pulse skipped a beat. "That's impossible. Hendrick never mentioned them."
Clara slid the documents across the desk. "I checked. Twice. The transactions were listed as 'consulting fees,' but Rothwell isn't a consulting firm. It's a shell company… one her father used to own before it was dissolved."
The room fell silent.
Juliet stared at the papers, her mind racing. Nora's father. Hendrick's secret dealings. The missing piece settled into place with a quiet, devastating clarity.
He hadn't just betrayed her with Nora.
He had colluded with Nora's family — long before she even crossed their threshold.
And somehow… Hendrick had buried that truth.
---
Juliet rose abruptly, the chair scraping against the polished floor. "Where is he?"
"In his study," Clara said softly, hesitant. "But ma'am, maybe you should—"
"Call the chauffeur," Juliet interrupted, her voice low, taut with barely restrained anger. "If I stay here another second, I might burn this house down myself."
---
Hendrick looked up when Juliet entered his study. He had been hunched over papers, head bowed, but the sight of her made his chest tighten. "Juliet—"
"Don't." Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned. She placed the folder on his desk with deliberate precision. "You're going to tell me what this is."
His color drained as he glanced at the Rothwell documents. "Where… where did you get this?"
"Don't insult me with that question," she said, crossing her arms. "Tell me the truth."
He hesitated too long.
Juliet's voice sharpened. "Did you do business with Nora's father?"
"Yes," he admitted finally, the word tasting like a confession. "But it's not what you think."
Her laugh was bitter, low. "Oh, I think exactly what I think. You took money from her family, hid it, and then let her waltz into our lives like some wounded stray. Convenient, isn't it?"
Hendrick straightened, defensive. "It was business, Juliet. Years ago, when the company was collapsing. I needed capital. I didn't know who Rothwell really was."
"Liar," she whispered.
His jaw tightened. "Do you think I wanted this? Wanted her? She returned to my life later, after her father died. I barely even recognized her."
Juliet's voice trembled with restrained fury. "But you didn't stop her, did you? You let her flirt, invade, poison everything we built. You handed her power over me… over us. And you call that business?"
He sagged. "I made a mistake."
"No, Hendrick." Her eyes glistened, but her voice remained steady. "You made a choice."
---
Silence settled over the room, thick and suffocating. Air, heartbeats, years of trust — all swallowed in that pause.
Juliet turned to the window, rain blurring the world outside. "When we married," she said quietly, "you gave me a ring. You said it symbolized eternity. I believed you. I wore it proudly. I defended you when everyone doubted you." She glanced back at him, cold and sharp. "But now I see it for what it really is — a perfect circle. A loop of lies that never ends."
"Juliet, please—"
"Don't." She raised a hand, cutting him off. "You had secrets before Nora, didn't you? How many deals? How many lies? How many women?"
He said nothing. The silence spoke for him.
Juliet's throat tightened, yet her composure never wavered. "Do you know the difference between me and her?" she asked softly. "She uses power to destroy. I use it to survive."
Hendrick looked at her helplessly. "I never meant to hurt you."
She smiled, a sad, sharp tilt. "Then you should've thought before giving my enemy the ammunition to fire at me."
---
Later, Juliet sat alone in the master bedroom, documents spread around her like fallen leaves. The truth lay bare, and with it, a weight she hadn't asked for.
She picked up her wedding ring, turning it slowly between her fingers. The diamond caught the faint light, glittering like mockery.
Everything she had fought for — every tear, every argument swallowed to protect their image — felt hollow.
But she wasn't broken. Not yet.
She slipped the ring back onto her finger, almost defiantly. "Not yet," she whispered. "I'll decide when this ends."
Her phone buzzed. A message lit up the screen. No name, just a number.
"Now you understand what he's capable of. Welcome to my side, Juliet. — N."
Juliet stared at it, pulse steady, mind clear. For the first time, anger didn't flare. She felt calm. Dangerously calm.
Because Nora had made one critical mistake. She assumed the revelation would destroy Juliet.
It did the opposite.
Juliet typed a single line in reply:
"Careful, Nora. You've awakened the wrong woman."
She set the phone down and walked to the window. Outside, the storm raged — wild, relentless, untamed. And for the first time, Juliet felt like she matched its fury.