Page 157 of What Comes Around

Her eyes darted for a split second. “I’m not intimidating you,” she snapped. “You’re the one exaggerating everything. I’m just asking you to correct it.”

“You might want to run that strategy by your lawyer before you keep talking. You’re not helping yourself right now.””

Her nostrils flared, her grip tightening around the receiver. “Stop acting like you’re better than me.”

“I don’t have to act.”

Her eyes narrowed, something sharp and unstable flashing behind them. “You think you’ve won. You think you’re safe now. But you’re not.”

I let my free hand drift down, smoothing it slowly over the small curve of my stomach. “Funny,” I said lightly. “I feel like I’m doing pretty well.”

Apple’s gaze dropped instantly. Her expression twisted, something ugly breaking through.

“You’re pregnant,” she hissed.

“Very observant.”

“With his baby.”

“Of course. I made sure it was his. Not… secondhand.”

Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. “You think that means something? You think you’ve won because you got knocked up? You don’t even know—”

I didn’t let her finish.

I lifted my left hand between us, turning it just enough for the light to catch the diamond. It flashed against the glass, bright and deliberate.

“Isn’t it pretty?” I asked.

Color rushed into her face, blotchy and uneven, her fingers tightening around the receiver until her knuckles went white. “You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve any of this.”

I gave a small shrug. “And yet here we are.”

Her breathing picked up, shallow and uneven, her eyes darting over my face like she was searching for something to latch onto. A crack. A weakness. Anything.

I didn’t give her one.

Instead, I reached into my bag, pulled out my phone, and held it up to the glass between us. “Have you seen these?”

Her expression flickered.

I swiped slowly, deliberately. Headlines. Mugshots. Clips of commentators dissecting her downfall. Her name everywhere, trending for all the wrong reasons. Words flashing across the screen. Manipulative. Dangerous. Unhinged.

“Everyone knows,” I said quietly. “Everyone sees you now.”

“Stop,” she whispered.

“You’re not adored,” I continued, my voice calm. “You’re just… pathetic.”

“Stop.”

I tilted my head, studying her through the glass. “Look at the bright side. You’ve never been this famous in your life. Or should I say infamous.”

Her jaw clenched, the muscle ticking visibly.

“Before, you were just an influencer. Niche famous. But now? You’re everywhere. Headlines. News cycles. Talk shows. Not the kind of attention you wanted, but it still counts.”

Her grip slipped on the phone, then tightened again.