Esta Vida - Marshmello & Farruko; The Weekend - Stormzy & Raye
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Chapter Thirty-One
Diane...
The penthouse was too quiet.
Diane sat on the floor by the coffee table, still in the gown from last night's gala, her heels discarded at odd angles. The city sprawled beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows, but she didn't see it. Her phone, the culprit of her unraveling, buzzed on the glass beside her, its screen replaying the viral video she couldn't tear her eyes from.
Jeffrey.
Jeffrey.
Jeffrey.
His hand on the heiress's waist, the champagne sparkle in the background, her laugh as he leaned in, then the kiss. It wasn't a peck. It wasn't an accident. It was lingering, full, almost hungry. And it had been caught in crystal clarity for the world to devour.
Her name was trending beside his. "Poor Diane Dalton." "The fiancée who wasn't enough." "From gala queen to cheated-on pawn." The hashtags made her stomach turn. She wanted to scream, to smash the phone, but all she did was press her nails into her palms until crescent moons marked her skin.
She had stood by Jeffrey through power games, manipulation, family wars. She had excused too much already. But this? This was betrayal with teeth. And it wasn't just the kiss, it was the humiliation, the way strangers dissected her heartbreak as if it were some late-night entertainment.
A knock thundered against the door.
Her chest tightened. She didn't need to check to know who it was.
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Jeffrey.....
Jason had warned him, mockery and all. "You were caught with tongue, Jeff. By the looks of it, you weren't exactly fighting her off."
Jeffrey hated the taste of regret, metallic and heavy on his tongue. He hadn't meant for it to happen. Yes, he'd been drunk, yes, the heiress had cornered him, yes, the cameras had been perfectly timed, but excuses wouldn't erase the truth. He had kissed her back.
He could still feel the softness of Diane's silence over the phone this morning. Not shouting, not crying, just silence. The kind that split his chest more than fury ever could.
Now he stood outside her door, knuckles throbbing from pounding too hard, heart hammering in his throat. He hated this weakness, this begging stance. But Diane wasn't just another woman, another trophy. She was the anchor he hadn't known he needed, until he lost his grip.
The door creaked open.
Diane stood there, hair loose, eyes rimmed red but blazing fire. No words of welcome. Just a stare sharp enough to gut him.
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"You have five minutes," she said flatly.
"Diane, I,....."
"Don't." She raised a hand, cutting him off. "Don't start with the excuses. I've seen the video. The whole world has seen the video. You kissed her."
His jaw tightened. "It wasn't like that. I was drunk,..."
"Oh the same old excuse with you men ughhh....being drunk doesn't make your lips find hers for that long, Jeffrey!" Her voice cracked, but her gaze didn't waver. "And don't you dare insult me by pretending it was camera angles. You leaned in. You wanted it."
He flinched. "I didn't want her. I wanted,..."
"Me?" Diane's laugh was hollow. "If you wanted me, Jeffrey, you wouldn't keep breaking me."
He stepped forward, desperate, but she backed away. The distance between them was small yet insurmountable.
"You blame your family for manipulating things, fine. They set the trap, fine. But you,...." She jabbed her finger at his chest. "You still stepped right into it. You still made the choice."
He swallowed hard. "I messed up. I'll admit it. But I can fix this. Diane, please, just....."
"Fix?" Her voice was raw. "This isn't a broken contract or a failed merger, Jeffrey. This is me. My dignity. My heart. And you've shattered it."
For the first time, he looked small. Not the arrogant Black heir, not the untouchable businessman. Just a man stripped of the one person who believed in him.
"Don't walk away from us," he whispered.
Tears blurred her vision. God help her, part of her wanted to collapse into his arms, to remember the fire they once had. But another part, the stronger part, screamed that he wasn't safe anymore. That every moment with him was another chance to bleed.
"I'm not the one walking away, Jeffrey," she said softly. "You already did that last night."
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For Diane huh,
The door closed between them with a final click. Diane leaned against it, body trembling, the echo of his scent clinging cruelly to the air.
Her phone buzzed again, this time a message from Alexander. "Are you okay? I'm here if you need anything."
Her chest constricted. Alexander wasn't chaos. He wasn't heartbreak in a tuxedo. He was steady, consistent, gentle in ways Jeffrey never knew how to be.
For a moment, her fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to call him, to let his voice be the balm she desperately craved. She did not realize she was starting to think of him as her solace, her mind had been crowded with Jeffrey. But she dropped the phone instead, sinking to the floor.
The war between heart and pride had never felt so vicious.
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Jeffrey didn't remember leaving the penthouse. One moment he was pleading at the door, the next he was in his car, the city lights smeared by the rain on his windshield.
His phone buzzed endlessly, articles, scandals, Jason's half-sarcastic texts, but he ignored them all. All he could hear was Diane's voice. "You already walked away last night."
For once, the great Jeffrey Black had no strategy, no fix, no clever manipulation.
He had lost her.
And for the first time in years, the fear of losing wasn't about business or reputation. It was about Diane Dalton, the woman he might have destroyed beyond repair.
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