Chapter 4

The sharp crack echoed violently through the quiet departure hall.

Chloe shrieked, clutching her burning cheek, and collapsed sobbing into Logan’s chest.

Logan went berserk. He shoved Chloe behind him and shoved a finger right into my face, roaring:

"Evelyn! Are you crazy?! You dare put your hands on her?!"

Eleanor lunged forward like a rabid dog, screaming that I was an unhinged, violent psychopath with zero manners.

Chloe buried her face in Logan's coat, wailing dramatically. She didn't dare repeat her provocations; she just kept sobbing:

"It’s my fault... Logan, don’t yell at her... it’s all my fault..."

The onlookers around us had no context. All they saw was an icy woman violently slapping a fragile, crying girl.

Murmurs of disapproval broke out instantly:

"Wow, no matter how mad she is, getting physical is trashy."

"Look how hard that poor girl is crying. What’s her deal?"

"The guy and the mom are both protecting that young girl. The one with the suitcase must be totally in the wrong."

More and more people stopped to watch.

Phones were pulled out, recording the drama.

Seeing the crowd side with them, Logan and Eleanor dialed up their performance, painting me as a manic, abusive fiancée who snapped over nothing.

I became the villain in a matter of seconds.

Faced with a barrage of angry stares and murmurs, I didn't flinch.

I didn't waste my breath trying to explain myself to strangers.

Under everyone's watchful gaze, I calmly unlocked my phone.

I opened my newly created account on TikTok and kicked off a multi-platform livestream with a single tap.

The partner media outlets pushed the link across every trending feed at that exact second.

Within ten seconds, the live viewer count skyrocketed past fifty thousand.

Holding the phone high, I slowly panned the camera across Logan's shifting face, Eleanor's frozen expression, and Chloe's tear-stained cheeks.

Then I pointed it at the crowd.

Right before hundreds of thousands of viewers and everyone in the terminal, I opened my digital evidence folder.

One by one, I put the cold, hard facts onto the screen.

Every word I spoke drained another drop of blood from Logan’s face.

Chloe stopped crying entirely, standing like a deer caught in headlights.

Eleanor's mouth opened and closed like a dying fish, incapable of forming a word.

The crowd around us gasped in horror.

The live chat exploded into pure chaos:

"HOLY CRAP! He hired a hitman to kill his fiancée for insurance?!"

"The side chick had a secret kid three years ago while the guy was engaged?!"

"They literally planned to stage a crash to ruin her life! This whole family belongs in an electric chair!"

"RUN SISTER RUN! Don't ever look back!"

I turned the camera back to Logan's deathly pale face.

"Logan Hayes, didn't you brag that I couldn't survive without you?"

"Today, I'm going to let the whole world watch just how brilliantly I thrive without your pathetic existence."

I shut down the livestream, grabbed my boarding pass, and stepped smoothly past the TSA gates.

Behind me, Logan's voice cracked in a bloodcurdling scream: "Evelyn! Stop! Come back here!"

I didn't spare him a single glance.