Chapter 7
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“Kizzie, since when did you lie to me?!”
The officer beside them flipped open his notebook, scanning the report.
“Ms. Kizzie Jenkins, correct? Mr. Porter, the organizer of this auction, claims you provided this explicit photo. Do you have anything to say?”
Kizzie shot Keon a desperate look, her signature “poor me” expression in full effect.
“Keon, you have to believe me. I can explain everything.”
Under normal circumstances, Keon would’ve backed her up without hesitation. But this
wasn’t normal.
“That’s fine,” he said coolly. “If you can explain it to me, you can explain it to the officers
too.”
Kizzie stared at him in disbelief. The way he shut her out–so cold, so distant–it sent her into a frenzy.
She shrieked, “Keon, drop the act! You think you’re so righteous? You think your hands are clean? Yeah, I gave them the photo, but I sure as hell didn’t take it!”
Her voice rose, sharp and defiant, cutting through the tense silence. She turned to face the gathered crowd, making sure they all heard her next words loud and clear.
“The cops got here too fast for anyone to get a good look, so let me spell it out for you- Kelsey’s the one in the picture! And in case you missed it, she wasn’t alone. She was having fun with three guys at once!”
“Shut the hell up!” Keon slammed the table as he shot to his feet, his voice sharp with fury.
Kizzie didn’t even flinch at that. If anything, she looked amused–fearless.
“Oh? Now you’re mad? Trying to play the perfect husband all of a sudden?” She sneered. “Where was that act when you and your two best buddies drugged your own wife? Huh? Where was it when you filmed the whole thing with your own damn hands?”
The room fell into a stunned silence. No one dared to say a word, but the way they looked at Keon said it all. Still, no one in their right mind would gossip about the Woods.
Keon was red with rage. The truth had just pushed him past his panic limit. He snapped and slapped Kizzie across the face. It was so hard that the slap echoed through the room. But even then, he had no words–no denial.
Kizzie barely staggered. Her cheek swelled instantly, but she only spat out a mouthful of blood and grinned, wicked and triumphant.
“Photos are meant to be seen, right?” she taunted. “You had them developed. You brought them to the office. I thought you wanted everyone to take a look! Guess I misunderstood, huh? Poor Mr. Woods.”
For the first time, under the weight of a hundred stares, Keon’s proud, unshakable posture faltered. His spine, always so rigid, bent–just a little.
Husband and Brother Bet Millions on My Baby’s Father
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Then, with a hollow look in his eyes, he slapped himself across the face, Slowly, deliberately, he raised both hands in surrender.
“Everything Kizzie said is true. Arrest me.”
The moment Keon was taken in for questioning, the news spread through high society like wildfire
Keon’s parents, Hazell and Alima, acted fast. They shut down the scandal before it could spiral out of control. They silenced the media, pulled every string they had and got him out.
Keon didn’t want to be out. He deserved to be in there. However, Hazell and Alima didn’t care. They forced him back home.
The moment he stepped inside, the air felt suffocating. The room still smelled like her. Like Kelsey. But everything in it was tainted–still frozen in time from that disastrous night with Kizzie
He sank to his knees at the edge of Kelsey’s bed. For the first time, the full weight of his actions crashed down on him. What had he done to her?
From the moment they married, Kelsey had been the one compromising, bending over backward to meet his needs–when it should have been the other way around. His family was the one who needed the marriage.
At first, he thought he was just trying to make things up to Kizzie–paying for the broken. promise that he’d always put her first. That guilt made him justify the little things, then the bigger things. Just this once, he’d tell himself.
Until one day, he’d lost sight of who his real family was. Of who his wife was.
He gripped his hair, pulling so hard his scalp burned.
Then–his phone rang. It was a text from his assistant: [Sir, the paternity test results are in.]
His hands trembled as he opened the file. He’d never been a religious man, but right now, he was praying like hell.
His breath caught. 99.9% DNA match.
His knees nearly buckled in relief. If Kelsey had been carrying another man’s child because of him–because of what he let happen–he wouldn’t even deserve to live.
Before he could exhale, another message came through. It was a medical report. His fingers went numb as he read the words: Severe hemorrhage. Miscarriage.
His mind reeled back to that night. The stairwell. How she had reached for him. How he had turned his back.
How, with one careless, goddamn kick, he had sent her falling.
Keon dropped the phone. The weight of it all–of what he had taken from her–crushed him.
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