The office morning began like any other—measured footsteps, murmured greetings, the quiet confidence that seemed to live in the walls of Carter Communications. Jane sat at her desk reviewing projections, her focus steady, her expression calm. Frederick was in a meeting down the hall, his voice low and firm as he addressed the board.
Nothing hinted at the storm that was about to arrive.
The elevator doors slid open with a sharp chime, and a woman stepped out with unmistakable purpose. Veronica was striking in a way that demanded attention—perfectly styled hair, immaculate makeup, a fitted dress that spoke of intention rather than professionalism. She did not pause to check in with reception. She walked straight past the desk, heels clicking like a warning.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the receptionist called after her. "You can't—"
"I know exactly where I'm going," Veronica said sharply, not slowing.
Jane looked up, instinctively alert. Something about the woman's expression—tight, determined, almost triumphant—set her on edge.
Veronica reached Frederick's office and pushed the door open without knocking.
"Frederick Carter," she announced.
The meeting stopped cold.
Frederick turned, his face shifting from confusion to disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
Jane stood slowly, her attention fixed on the scene unfolding through the glass walls.
"I'm here because you won't answer my calls," Veronica said, her voice carrying across the office. "And because you don't get to ignore this."
"This is not appropriate," Frederick snapped, standing. "Leave. Now."
Veronica laughed bitterly. "You don't get to dismiss me like one of your employees."
Frederick stepped closer, his jaw tight. "Security," he said sharply into the intercom. "Escort her out."
Veronica's hand moved instinctively to her stomach.
"I'm pregnant."
The words struck the room like thunder.
A collective gasp rippled through the office. Conversations halted. Keyboards stilled. Even Jane felt her breath catch, though her expression remained carefully composed.
Frederick froze. "That's a lie."
Veronica's eyes flashed. "Is it?"
"You are not doing this here," he said, his voice rising with anger. "You walk into my company, make a scene, and expect me to believe you?"
"You didn't seem so doubtful before," she shot back.
Jane felt something shift inside her—subtle, unsettling.
Frederick's anger flared. "You're a gold digger," he snapped. "And you think a story like this will trap me?"
Veronica stiffened. "I'm not here for your money."
Frederick scoffed. "Please. You've always known exactly what you were doing. Get out. Now."
Security appeared at the door.
Veronica's voice trembled—not with fear, but with fury. "You're calling me a liar? After everything?"
Frederick's words cut cold. "I won't be manipulated by a woman who's looking for a payout."
"And calling me names makes you feel powerful?" she demanded.
Jane's fingers tightened at her side.
Veronica turned her gaze slowly, deliberately, toward Jane. "Ask him," she said. "Ask him how long we were together. Ask him how many promises he made."
Frederick spun toward Jane. "This is nonsense."
But Jane didn't answer right away.
Veronica's eyes locked onto Jane's, sharp and searching. "You think you know him," she said quietly. "I thought I did too."
"Enough," Frederick barked. "Get her out."
As security moved closer, Veronica spoke one last time, her voice steady and devastating.
"He told me he wasn't ready to be serious with anyone. That his business partner mattered more than love. That commitment could wait."
Jane's heart skipped painfully.
Veronica was escorted out, her heels echoing down the hall, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than shouting ever could.
Frederick turned to Jane immediately. "You don't believe a word of that, do you?"
Jane met his gaze. Her expression was unreadable. "I believe something happened," she said calmly.
"That woman is lying," he insisted. "She's desperate."
Jane nodded once. "Perhaps."
"Jane—"
"I need some air," she said quietly.
She walked past him, past the watching employees, past Annabel—who stood frozen at her desk, eyes wide—without looking back.
In the stairwell, Jane finally allowed herself to breathe. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts unruly. She had never doubted Frederick's competence, his integrity in business. But this—this was personal. And uncertainty had slipped in where trust once sat unchallenged.
She replayed Veronica's words. I thought I knew him too.
Jane had built her life on self-reliance, on clarity, on truth earned through action. Love, for her, was not blind—it was a partnership grounded in honesty.
And now, doubt whispered.
Back upstairs, Frederick stood alone in his office, anger giving way to something more dangerous: fear. He had handled the situation harshly, defensively. He knew that. But the damage was done.
He had underestimated one thing.
Not Veronica.
But Jane's strength—and her refusal to ignore the cracks when they appeared.
By the end of the day, the office returned to its rhythm, but something essential had shifted. The glass walls still gleamed, the standards still held. Yet beneath the surface, questions lingered.
And for the first time, Jane wondered whether the man she trusted so completely had hidden parts of himself she had never been allowed to see.