Sinclair Corporation won the eastern city plot bid by a razor-thin margin.

The victory sent ripples through the corporation, and Cherry's reputation soared.


She'd proven herself with results, not just titles. The voices of doubt and skepticism had no choice but to retreat—for now.

At the celebration banquet, Cherry commanded the room. Dressed in an elegant evening gown, she glided among guests with poise and confidence, as if the wedding disaster had never happened.

Only she knew that the thorn in her heart remained, twisting painfully with every heartbeat.


Sullivan stood across the room, watching Cherry shine with conflicted emotions. Her success validated his "deal," yet it also triggered an unfamiliar sense of threat.

She was evolving too quickly—faster than he could control. Since their tense office conversation, they'd spoken only about work. This deliberate distance felt worse than any argument.


He approached with a wine glass, and conversations around them hushed.

"Congratulations, Deputy Director Thorne." He raised his glass with formal precision.

"Credit goes to the team." Cherry clinked glasses mechanically, her smile professional, her eyes distant. "And thank you for your support, President Sinclair."

Their exchange was polite but frigid. Everyone nearby sensed the tension crackling between them.

Suddenly, Sullivan's private phone rang. He checked the caller ID, his expression shifting subtly as he stepped away to answer.

Cherry noticed his back stiffen instantly, his fingers tightening around the phone.

Moments later, Sullivan strode back, his face dark as a thundercloud. He grabbed Cherry's wrist with such force that she winced.

"Come with me." His voice barely contained rage and panic.

"What happened?" Cherry tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron.

"Victoria Skye had a miscarriage," Sullivan hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes boring into hers. "An hour ago, at Lakeside Apartments. She says you pushed her."

BOOM!

Like thunder exploding in her ears.

Ice shot through Cherry's veins. The room's noise faded to nothing, leaving only Sullivan's eyes, blazing with suspicion and fury.

"I pushed her?" Cherry echoed, nearly laughing at the absurdity. "I've been at the office all day preparing for this event. Everyone here can confirm that!"

"She says you went to see her this afternoon! Threatened her to leave me, and pushed her during the argument!" Sullivan's voice trembled—whether from rage or grief for the child he'd never meet.

"Ridiculous!" Cherry's face hardened as she wrenched her arm free. "Sullivan Sinclair, use your damn brain! Why would I seek her out now? And in such a clumsy, obvious way?"

"Reason? You hate her! For ruining your wedding, for carrying my child! Isn't that enough?" Sullivan growled, clearly unhinged by Victoria's accusations and the shock of his loss.

Eyes turned to Cherry again—suspicious, speculative, hungry for drama. The Deputy Director who moments ago had been celebrating victory now faced the horrific accusation of causing a miscarriage.

Cherry stared at the irrational man before her, feeling her heart turn to stone.

So in his mind, she was a monster who would harm a pregnant woman. Ten years of history, erased by Victoria's casual accusation.

"So you believe her over me?" Cherry's voice was terrifyingly calm, only her trembling fingertips betraying her inner turmoil.

"I believe evidence!" Sullivan glared at her. "She's in the hospital now. Before losing consciousness, she identified you. The police are on their way!"

The celebration collapsed instantly. Whispers surged through the crowd like wildfire.

Cherry stood frozen, feeling stripped bare under a spotlight, humiliation and rage washing over her in equal measure.

But she forced her spine straight. She wouldn't break—not here, not now.

"Fine." She took a deep breath, her eyes like shards of ice. "Let the police investigate. The truth will come out. But Sullivan Sinclair, before you convict me in your mind, ask yourself who benefits most from this convenient tragedy!"

Her meaning was clear: Victoria had "conveniently" miscarried right at Cherry's moment of triumph—timing so perfect it reeked of conspiracy!

At that moment, two uniformed officers appeared at the entrance, making a beeline for Cherry.

"Ms. Cherry Thorne? We're investigating allegations of assault resulting in miscarriage. We need you to come with us."

The room exploded into chaos.

Camera flashes erupted as reporters, like sharks in a feeding frenzy, captured the unfolding drama.

Sinclair Corporation's Vice President being led away by police from her own victory celebration—tomorrow's headlines would be explosive!

Cherry's face drained of color, but her composure never wavered. She looked at Sullivan one last time, the final spark of warmth in her eyes dying, leaving only glacial disappointment.

"Sullivan Sinclair, you'll pay for your foolishness today."

Without another glance at anyone, she walked toward the officers with her head high—as if heading to another business meeting rather than a police interrogation.

Sullivan watched her retreating figure, his fists clenched so tight his nails drew blood from his palms.

Cherry's final look had pierced him like an ice pick. Through his chaotic thoughts, a small voice whispered: Could it really be her? Would she actually do something like this?

Meanwhile, in a VIP hospital room, Victoria Skye had just "regained consciousness." With a pale, fragile face and tears clinging to her lashes, she timidly yet firmly repeated her accusations against Cherry to the investigating officers.

Across town, Henry Sinclair sat in his office, watching "Sinclair VP Suspected in Attack on Pregnant Woman" spread across social media, a cold smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Crisis descended like storm clouds, sudden and overwhelming.

Everything Cherry had built now teetered on the edge of collapse.