My response was cut short, drowned out by another voice on the other end of the line. Roman didn't hear me.

"Major General Armstrong, Sabrina is awake. She’s asking to see you."

"I'll be there immediately." Roman’s voice was sharp with urgency.

He pivoted, heading straight for Sabrina’s room. Mid-stride, he seemed to remember something, coming to a halt. He turned to his guard, Brady Mason, and issued a command.

"Is the Eternal Heart necklace I designed ready?"

Brady nodded.

"Send it over to Genevieve."

Roman knew Genevieve. He knew that, at her core, she was proud. He assumed that if he forced her to swallow her pride and apologize to Sabrina, she would be nursing deep resentment. But resentment was manageable. If you screw up, you pay the price. And Genevieve was always easy to placate; whenever she threw a tantrum, a small trinket was enough to make her smile again.

"Oh, and the matching earrings? Give those to Sabrina."

***

By the time Roman’s messenger arrived with the necklace, Joseph, my editor, was already playing a video of Sabrina’s interview on his screen.

In the footage, Sabrina lay in her VIP suite while Roman leaned over, tenderly tucking her into bed. A reporter thrust a microphone toward her. "Ms. Cole, are the rumors true? That Genevieve Hunter tried to intercept you and pushed you down the stairs after a failed attempt to wedge herself between you and the Major General?"

Sabrina managed a pained, fragile smile. "I don’t blame Genevieve. After all, Roman is such an exceptional man. Many people have feelings for him..."

The reporter’s expression turned indignant. "So it’s true? How is this any different from breaking military protocol? It’s disgusting! How is a woman like that even fit to be a military correspondent?"

Sabrina said nothing, merely smiling as she gracefully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

The reporter’s eyes lit up. "Those earrings are stunning! Did Major General Armstrong give them to you?"

Sabrina looked at Roman, feigning bashfulness. "He designed them himself."

The reporter gushed toward the camera, "The Major General is so devoted to Ms. Cole! This is the definition of a fairytale romance. There’s simply no room for anyone else!"

Joseph couldn't take it anymore. He lashed out at the phone screen, hurling a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. He immediately kicked the guard Roman had sent to deliver the necklace out of the office.

The bureau wasn't going to take this lying down. They dug up the security logs of my building, proving I had entered and exited the premises on multiple occasions, and used our official channels to post a rebuttal.

[The apartment wasn't applied for by the reporter, Genevieve? We see her coming and going constantly, unlike the 'Major General,' who rarely appears.]

[You have two photos of three people entering the same building at different times and that’s supposed to prove Genevieve pushed Sabrina down the stairs? Maybe there’s more to the story than what's being fed to us. Stop spreading baseless rumors!]

The tide of public opinion had barely begun to turn when Roman’s personal account suddenly updated.

[It seems Genevieve Hunter has been sneaking into my home whenever I’m away.]

Attached was a photo of the original housing application.

In that heartbeat, I felt the blood drain from my face. My head spun, a roar filling my ears.

The year he joined the service, he hadn't yet reached the rank required to apply for housing. I had been assigned that apartment as a commendation for my three years of service as a war correspondent. Fearing he might feel inferior, I had included his name on the application.

Back then, he had held me, smiling. "Genevieve, don't overthink it. I trust what we have."

Now, that trust had been forged into a blade aimed straight at my throat.

Joseph was livid. He hadn't expected Roman to be this cruel. "The marriage license! Post the marriage license! Genevieve, where is it?"

"Roman took it," I said, my voice hoarse.

On the day we registered, he had been as giddy as a child, spinning around the room while clutching the certificate, promising to buy a custom crystal frame to display it.

Where was that frame now? The license wasn't on display. It had become the darkest secret he kept locked away.

Joseph fell silent, eventually letting out a heavy sigh. "Genevieve, did you two really spend seven years together...?"

I tried to force a smile, but my lips wouldn't cooperate.

My phone chimed. A message.

[Do you need help?]

It was William Graham.

[Thank you, but no.]

I shut the phone off and handed Joseph a thick manila envelope. "Joseph, post this."