Page 107 of Forty, Flirty & Framed

"I tried to tell you earlier today," I say desperately."Before we left for the party?—"

"Yet somehow you didn't manage to mention that your entire resume is fabricated."His accent thickens with anger."Were you ever going to tell me?Or was I supposed to discover it during the acquisition audit?"

"I was afraid," I admit, aware of our growing audience."I needed the job.My mother's medical bills, my sister's?—"

"Save it," he cuts me off, his voice icy."We'll discuss this Monday.With HR and legal present."

The finality in his tone tells me everything I need to know.

Whatever was growing between us is dead, crushed under the weight of my deception.

"Well," Duncan says, satisfaction dripping from his voice, "this certainly raises questions about Abernathy Corp's vetting procedures.Perhaps the board should reconsider whether this level of oversight is appropriate for an acquisition of MacTavish's scale."

Callum's jaw tightens."The acquisition will proceed as planned.Abernathy Corp's integrity remains uncompromised."

"Does it?"Duncan asks innocently."Because from where I'm standing, your leadership judgment seems increasingly questionable.First Richard, now this..."

I watch Callum's face pale slightly, a direct hit.

The mention of Richard in this context is calculated cruelty.

"If you'll excuse me," I murmur, unable to bear another moment of this public evisceration."I should go."

No one stops me as I turn and walk away, head high despite the burning humiliation.

Behind me, I hear the unmistakable sound of tweets being composed, cameras clicking, careers imploding.

My perfectly groomed professional facade is crumbling with each step I take toward the exit.

I pass Connor and Ariana, both wearing identical expressions of shock.

Grayson and Luke are huddled together, no doubt debating the security implications of my deception.

The hotel lobby television catches my eye as I wait for the valet to bring my car.

The screen shows an entertainment news breakout with my professional headshot next to Callum's viral kilt photo.The caption reads: "TROUBLE IN KILT PARADISE?MARKETING DIRECTOR BEHIND VIRAL SENSATION CLASHES WITH 'CASANOVA CEO'"

"Can I get a statement, Ms.Peters?"A reporter materializes beside me, recorder extended."Is it true you fabricated your credentials to land the job at Abernathy Corp?"

"No comment," I manage, digging in my purse for cash to tip the valet.

"Sources say you and Callum Abernathy were romantically involved.Care to confirm?"

"Absolutely not," I snap, snatching my car keys from the startled valet.

As I slide into my car, my phone explodes with notifications.

The hashtag #CasanovaConfrontation is trending, complete with blurry photos of our argument.

I silence my phone without looking at the messages, knowing they'll be a mixture of concern from my family and professional vultures circling my career's corpse.

The night air has cooled significantly as I pull away from the hotel, but I barely notice.

All I can see is Callum's face…

The moment trust transformed into betrayal, connection into distance, possibility into impossibility.

I'd hoped to avoid becoming another Abernathy casualty, but instead, I've become something worse…