Page 73 of Confusing Cade
CADE
Thank fuck Bella finally reached out.
I’d been known as someone who played my cards close to the vest, but ever since Bella Moretti had come back into my life, my emotions had altered my behavior. For the most part, that had been for the better. I wasn’t as hardheaded anymore. Wasn’t as much of an asshole. Was more open to possibilities, and to the nuance of life.Except when I had doubted her integrity.
That moment was a jagged scar on my conscience, a reminder of how quickly I could revert to the worst version of myself, a man who was suspicious, cold, and unyielding. My time with Bella had cracked open something in me, a warmth I hadn’t felt in years, a willingness to trust and hope again. She’d made me see colors in a world I’d painted in grays, her laughter and fierce spirit pulling me out of the sterile routine of deals and deadlines. But when I lashed out, accusing her of betrayal, I nearly snuffed out that light.
I had built an empire on control, and on never showing weakness, but Bella made me want to be vulnerable and real. Still, I’d let fear and pride twist that into something ugly, nearly costing me the one person who made me feel alive. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.
Not anymore.
Bella arrived about half an hour later, sweeping into my office with the grace of a seasoned model. Her navy linen dress hugged her figure, the subtle plunge accentuating her curves. God, I'd missed her, and I savored the way her presence filled a room, the quiet strength in her posture hiding a world of vulnerability. Relief flooded through me like a dam breaking, mixed with a sharp pang of joy at seeing her again, even if it was laced with the ache of what I'd put her through.
But she also looked different now. Sad.
Exhaustion shadowed her blue eyes, and she hesitated in the doorway. Maybe she was a little fearful, like she was steeling herself for another blow. It gutted me, knowing I'd caused that wariness. I forced my gaze to stay on hers as I led her to the conference table, seating her across from me to keep some semblance of distance, though every part of me wanted to close it. I ached to pull her into my arms, bury my face in her hair, and beg for the forgiveness I didn't deserve.
But I stayed in my place.
“Well,” I started, the silence between us thick and heavy, “I’m glad the flowers were still there when you got home.”
“Me too,” she said, her voice steady but guarded, like she was bracing for another accusation, or for the moment between us to change for the worse.
“I don’t want to keep you in suspense.” The words felt like lead in my mouth. “You deserve the truth, Bella, so I’m going to give it to you.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes locked on mine, sharp and searching. “I’m listening.”
“A few days ago, a member of my team, Chris Rowan, came to me with some... disturbing information. He’s been working with RepuMang, and they managed to figure out that David hacked your FanZone account.”
Her jaw dropped, shock flashing across her face. “David? Your best friend?”
“Wasmy best friend,” I said, the word cutting deeper than I expected. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. To us.”
She shook her head, confusion knitting her brow. Then her eyes widened further, as if the full weight of this information was crashing over her like a rogue wave.
“He hacked my account? David did that? But... why? What the hell did he want with my photos? Did he leak them? Post them somewhere to humiliate me?” Her voice cracked, rising with a mix of raw incredulity and bubbling panic, her hands clenching into fists on the table. “And the project? The endless zoning delays that nearly killed the whole thing, the leaks to the press stirring up all that bad publicity, the city commission dragging their feet... that was him? Your best friend sabotaged everything?”
I nodded grimly, the confirmation tasting like ash. “All of it. He was the mole, feeding misinformation, hacking systems, turning the screws from the inside.”
Relief flickered in her eyes then, a brief, shaky glimmer cutting through the storm, her shoulders easing just a fraction as the invisible weight she'd carried for weeks seemed to lift. But it was short-lived. Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze sharpened into something fierce and accusatory. “What about you, Cade? You threw me out like I was trash, blamed me for trying to destroy you and your precious project. You wouldn’t listen when I begged you to hear me out. And all along, it was him?” She leaned forward, her voice trembling with the hurt I'd inflicted, but steady in its fury. “How could you believe that about me? After everything we shared?”
I winced, the guilt slamming into me like a gut punch, heavier than before. “I was wrong. Completely wrong. I let myparanoia and pride blind me, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life.”
“Good,” she murmured, her head dropping into her hands, her shoulders sagging under the onslaught of it all. “Good.” She lifted her head, her eyes meeting mine. “It’s just... this is so much. Too much. But God, at least it's not my fault. At least you know that now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
My chest ached, a vise tightening around my heart as I watched her process it all, her face paling under the weight of this fresh betrayal—mine included. I’d failed her spectacularly, let my blind trust in David poison everything, allowing his schemes to reach her, to hurt her in ways I couldn’t even fully grasp yet. The zoning delays that had cost us months and millions, the anonymous tips to the press that painted the Promenade as some greedy land grab, the fabricated complaints to the city commission that stalled permits at every turn—all orchestrated by him, the man I’d called my brother. And the hack? That was the cruelest cut, invading her privacy, twisting her vulnerability into a weapon against us both. I couldn’t let this be the end, not when I finally saw the truth, not when every fiber of me screamed to make it right.
I pushed the notepad across the table, the one Chris had thrust at me days ago, its pages crammed with irrefutable proof: screenshots of emails from David’s hidden accounts, IP addresses linking back to his home network, timestamps aligning perfectly with the leaks and disruptions.
“Here,” I said, my voice rough with the regret choking me. “See for yourself. The zoning sabotage, the media leaks, the commission roadblocks... they all trace back to him. As for the FanZone breach, he accessed your account through a backdoor he’d planted in our system, planning to use those photos as leverage. Against you. Against me.”
“Oh my God.”
“Chris triple-checked it all with RepuMang. It’s airtight.” I paused. “And I fired them. They royally fucked up by missing this.”
She took the notepad with trembling hands, her eyes scanning the pages, widening as the details sank in. I watched her closely, noting the way her breath hitched at the evidence of the hack, the flicker of horror when she saw how he’d manipulated the project’s timelines to create chaos. Her fingers tightened on the edges, knuckles whitening, and for a moment, I thought she might tear it apart. God, she was beautiful even in her fury but seeing the toll this had taken gutted me. I’d contributed to that exhaustion, hurling accusations instead of standing by her.
