New beginning: Billionaire love story

ADRIAN SAINT LAURENT CAUGHT CHEATING?

WHO IS THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN IN THE PHOTO?

IS THAT NOT CLAIRE PETERSON BUT OTHER WOMAN?

Her heart broke a little, but Claire wasn't about to let Alexander or anyone else see that. Her face remained an icy mask as she handed the phone back to him.

"It's fake," she said flatly.

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "It's not."noveldrama

Claire's glare could've melted steel. "Why are you so sure about it, huh? Are we here to work, or to gossip?" she snapped. "Because I have a mountain of actual work waiting for me back in London."

Alexander studied her face, probably hoping to catch a flicker of emotion. Too bad for him-Claire had perfected the art of poker face. She might've been crumbling inside, but she was practically unreadable on the outside. With a sigh, Alexander relented. "Fine. Let's get back to it."

"Please," Claire muttered, already moving toward the task at hand. She wasn't about to let some tabloid drama derail her day—at least, that's what she told herself. Inside, though? That headline was like a splinter under her skin.

Claire didn't say a word. She just turned and walked toward the desk, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. Inside, her mind was racing, but she wasn't going to give Alexander the satisfaction of seeing it. She wasn't going to let this fake tabloid story mess with her focus. At least, that's what she told herself.

But deep down? It was like a splinter under her skin. The image of Adrian's face, the other woman in the photo, and the way the headlines had slapped her across the face... it was hard to shake.

As the hours passed, Claire tried to force herself to focus. She had a presentation to prepare, a whole list of things that needed to be done, and yet, all she could think about was that blasted headline. She wanted to see the full set of photos. She wanted to know who the woman was, if the guy in the pictures was really Adrian.

She told herself she couldn't let it bother her. It wasn't worth it. But then there was that nagging thought in the back of her mind: the reason Adrian's phone had died-was it because he was with someone else? That thought crawled under her skin like an itch she couldn't reach.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the fear that crept up, the one that whispered this is not your first time dealing with betrayal. Claire didn't want to go down that road again. She didn't want to feel that familiar ache of betrayal, of the sudden coldness that would settle between them. She couldn't go through that again.

But still, the doubt lingered, gnawing at her. Was this it? Was this the moment Adrian would break her heart, just like the last one had?

She glanced over at Alexander, who was still doing whatever it was he did, scribbling notes or whatever. She could feel his eyes flicking toward her every now and then, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd caught her distracted. He probably thought she was upset, maybe even worried, but Claire wasn't about to show it. Not for him. Not for anyone.

The truth was, she didn't even know if she wanted to know the truth about the photos. What good would it do? She was here to work, to push forward with the project, to be the professional she always was. The drama? The gossip? That was all for other people to care about.

But still, the phone buzzed on her desk, and her eyes flitted over to it. Her breath caught when she saw the name flashing on the screen.

Adrian Saint Laurent.

Her heart skipped a beat. She

hesitated, then picked up the phone,

hoping it wasn't just another interruption. Adrian's voice crackled through the line, rich and familiar, but there was something off about it. His tone seemed distant distracted.

"Claire," he started, his voice a little too casual, like he was trying to cover something up. "I saw the headlines. Are you okay?"

The words hit her harder than she'd expected, and her stomach dropped again. She could feel the tension building her chest, the fear and

hurt swirling together. But shandel

couldn't let him hear that. She took a deep breath and forced her voice to

remain steady.

"I am fine," she said, her voice cold and controlled. "It's just tabloid nonsense."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Claire thought maybe he was going to say something-something to make her feel better, to reassure her. But instead, he sighed. "Listen, I didn't know about any of this," he said quickly. "I don't know how those photos got out, but you've got to believe me, Claire. It's not what it looks like."

Claire didn't reply right away. She

had so many questions running through her head, so many things she wanted to say, but the words got stuckin her throat. Instead, she just stared at the phone in her hand, feeling her fingers tighten around it. Her mind kept jumping back to the photo of the woman with him, the way Adrian had looked in the picture, and the doubt gnawing at her.

"I-I call you later." she finally said, the words tasting bitter.

Another long pause. This time, she could almost hear him running his hand through his hair, the frustration building on his end. "Please, Claire. Don't let this get to you. It's not true. I'm not "

She cut him off, her voice firm. "I've got work to do, Adrian. I'll see you when I get back to London."

Before he could respond, she hung up the phone. Her heart was racing, but there was a sense of finality in her actions. Maybe she didn't want to hear the excuses. Maybe she didn't want to risk letting her guard down again.

But at the same time, she feels bad for just brushing him off without hearing his explanation.

Claire dropped the phone on the desk and ran a hand over her face, trying to push the worry and hurt away. She knew she couldn't let this distract her, not when there was so much at stake.

But even as she pushed forward with her work, the doubt and fear lingered. What if he wasn't telling her the truth? What if the photo was real? What if the headlines weren't fake?

The questions kept coming, but Claire refused to let them consume her. She'd been through worse, after all. She could handle this.

"What is going on? The moment I leave London everything seems to go haywire. Does my presence mean so much in London?" she muttered sarcastically to herself as she wondered.

Still, as she sat there, her mind kept drifting back to Adrian and the woman in the photo. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that there was more to the story than Adrian was letting on.

But for now, all she could do was keep going.

Work. Focus. Pretend like everything was fine.

At least that's what she told herself.