Page 213 of My Real Love Affair

She had two glasses of wine to my half of one, getting progressively more relaxed and candid when the server came to pick up our plates.

“You know what’s funny?” she said before taking another drink. “They think money can fix everything. And it can.”

“Have you spent much time with him?” I asked. “Beyond the wedding you were paid to attend?”

“Enough to know he’s an asshole,” she said. “He barely talked to me the whole time we were there. And he pouted about having to be with me at all. I was literally furniture to him.”

“So this is personal for you,” I said.

“Hell yes, it’s personal. He made me feel like nothing.” She leaned forward, her eyes bright with wine and vindication. “But tomorrow? Tomorrow I’m going to make him feel like nothing. And I’m going to get rich doing it.”

“I’m glad you’re brave enough to do this,” I said, raising my wine glass. “But I want to be really clear about what we’re doing here. This is about taking down Austin Bancroft, right? Making him pay for how he treated us?”

“Absolutely,” Summer said, raising her own glass.

“And we don’t care if we have to bend the truth a little? Present things in a certain light?”

“Melody, we’re presenting the truth. It’s just our truth. Our interpretation.” She smiled. “And yes, if that interpretation happens to make us both very successful, very rich women in the process, then that’s just a bonus.”

We both took drinks from our glasses.

Summer leaned back with a soft smile on her lips. “In a couple years, it’ll be you and me on a yacht somewhere, looking back at where it all started and laughing about it.”

“Cheers to that,” I said. I clinked my glass against hers.

Got you,I thought.

Summer drained her glass, completely oblivious to what she’d just admitted. She thought she had won. She really thought she had recruited me to her cause. She had no idea that every word she’d just said had been recorded. Her carefully constructed plan was about to collapse around her.

“So,” Summer said, signaling for the check. “Want to come with me to the recording tonight? They said I could bring a supporter.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I have an early morning tomorrow. But I’ll be watching when it drops.”

And you, I thought.

Summer was going to face an epic takedown.

CHAPTER 67

AUSTIN

“We got her,” Cash said, his grin splitting wide across his face as he held up his phone. “Every single word. Recorded and backed up to the cloud.”

I twisted in my seat to look at Cleo, who was already nodding, her own phone in hand. “I got it too. Perfectly clear. She admitted to doctoring evidence, going against legal counsel, weaponizing cancel culture for personal gain—all of it.”

Relief crashed over me. I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. “It’s really over?”

“The hard part is,” Cash said, already pulling up his contacts. “Now we just hand this to our legal team, and they’ll file for an emergency injunction. Summer won’t be able to go on The Spill Room or any other platform without facing immediate legal consequences for defamation and attempted extortion.”

He started typing rapidly, forwarding the recording with a message I couldn’t quite see. His fingers moved with the efficiency of someone who’d handled countless crises, and I felt a surge of gratitude for my brother that caught me off guard.

“Cash,” I said.

He looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For all of this. For having my back tonight, for the plan, for everything. Without you, this might not have gone so smoothly.”

Cash was quiet for a moment and then he slowly shook his head.