The penthouse was quiet—too quiet.
Shane stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city glittering below her like a million little lies. Somewhere down there, Alexa was watching. Waiting. Smiling behind her mask of elegance and poison.
"She's twisted," Shane muttered. "Holding onto a marriage I didn't even know existed."
Behind her, May stood at the center island, flipping through the forged marriage certificate Shane's lawyer had printed out. "She didn't want the marriage," May said. "She wanted the claim. The ability to pull the rug out from under you the moment you stood back up."
Shane turned, her suit jacket slung open, shirt half-unbuttoned, chest rising and falling with controlled rage. "It worked. She has the press in her palm, and she's painting me as the unfaithful billionaire. The cold one. The heartbreaker."
May crossed the space and handed her the paper. "Then we fight with something she doesn't have—truth."
"And how do we prove a marriage I can't even remember is a lie?"
May tilted her head. "We don't need to prove it's a lie. We just need to prove you were never in love with her. That this was a setup from the start."
A beat passed.
Then Shane's expression shifted—hardening into focus.
"You're thinking press. An interview."
"A public one. Live."
Shane let out a slow breath. "You really want to stand by me through this storm?"
May stepped forward, brushing her fingers against Shane's jawline. "I want to stand beside you in the fire and make the flames jealous."
Shane captured her hand, held it tight, kissed her knuckles.
"Then let's burn her kingdom down."
Two Days Later – Live Broadcast
The studio lights were blinding. Cameras pointed directly at Shane and May. A famed talk-show host sat across from them, holding cue cards and questions loaded with fire.
"Shane Kingston," she said. "Let's get straight to the point. Are you married to Alexa Moreau?"
Shane looked directly into the lens, voice cool and composed. "I was. Legally. Without my knowledge. It was a drunken night in Vegas, six years ago. I don't remember the wedding. I didn't even know it existed until this week."
A collective gasp rippled through the audience. The host leaned in. "So, are you saying she manipulated the situation?"
Shane's eyes flicked with steel. "I'm saying she used me. Filmed me. Held onto an illegal marriage certificate like a ticking time bomb, waiting to use it the moment she couldn't control me anymore."
"And your relationship with May?"
Shane turned to look at May, her expression softening.
"She's real," Shane said. "No cameras. No manipulation. No lies. When I wake up next to her, I feel like I'm finally breathing again."
May's fingers slipped into Shane's beneath the table.
"And to Alexa?" the host asked.
Shane turned back to the camera. "You're not my wife. You were never my home. And if you think you can break me with forged vows and public drama, think again."
The show ended.
But the world had already heard.
Backstage
Shane was quiet. Still in her tailored black suit, shirt crisp, hair swept back.
May wrapped her arms around her from behind. "You were brilliant."
Shane exhaled slowly. "I feel like I just lit the match to burn my own past alive."
May smiled. "Then let's watch it go up in flames."
Just as their lips met, Shane's assistant burst in, eyes wide. "You need to see this."
She handed Shane a tablet.
A new video had just dropped.
From Alexa.
Her voice trembled in the clip, fake tears glistening. "I just want her back. I know she loves me. She's confused. That girl—May—is just a distraction. A phase. Shane belongs with me."
Then it cut.
To a video of Shane, clearly intoxicated, from years ago—whispering "I love you" to Alexa on a balcony.
May's stomach dropped.
Shane stared at the screen in silence.
And the fire was no longer just in the headlines.
It was in their hearts.
Burning. Consuming.
Testing the truth of everything they'd built.
The moment the interview aired, Shane Kingston's name exploded across the internet—but this time, the tone had shifted.
The public was divided. Some called her a victim. Others were hooked on the scandal. And a huge portion? Well, they were obsessed with the power couple: Shane Kingston and May Anderson.
"You two are trending under #PowerSin," Shane's assistant laughed, waving her phone. "And #DamnShaneIsHot is exploding on TikTok."
May smirked. "You are hot, in that suit and that whole 'brooding billionaire with a heart' energy."
Shane rolled her eyes, sipping coffee while May flopped dramatically onto the couch. "We're still being sued for adultery by my psychotic ex-wife, May."
May grinned. "Ex-fake wife. Who, by the way, cried like a telenovela villain in that video. I mean, what's next? She adopts a revenge parrot?"
Shane choked on her coffee.
"That's not funny—" she started.
"It's hilarious. And you know what?" May bounced up, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. "We need to steal the narrative back. Not just with statements or suits, but with something better. Something outrageous. Something fun."
Shane narrowed her eyes. "Define 'fun' because last time, your version of fun led to a video call with us naked in bed."
May strutted up, looping her arms around Shane's neck. "That was iconic and you know it."
"…and also traumatic for Alexa."
"Bonus!"
Shane sighed, lips curving despite herself. "Okay. What's the plan?"
May grinned.
The Next Day – Instagram Live
The screen lit up with thousands of watchers as May stood in the middle of Shane's penthouse kitchen—wearing nothing but Shane's oversized white shirt and a very smug look.
"Good morning, sinners," May purred. "Let's talk about breakfast. Today, I'm making pancakes for my wife's real lover—me."
The chat exploded.
"Is she naked under that shirt???"
"DID SHE SAY WIFE?!"
"OH MY GOD SHANE IN THE BACKGROUND???"
Yes—Shane walked through the frame, shirtless, coffee in hand, eyes barely open. "You're doing what?"
May turned to her, deadpan. "Making pancakes and claiming your very married status for myself."
Shane blinked. "You're insane."
"And married to me," May shot back, flipping a pancake. "Take that, Alexa."
The stream went wild.
Then May walked up to Shane, reached for her neck, and tugged her down into a kiss—deep, possessive, unapologetically hot.
The comments section short-circuited.
Backstage of the Internet
Not even an hour later, memes were born.
Shane in boxers holding coffee = new lesbian thirst trap.
May in Shane's shirt = "Wife Era."
The kiss = viral trend.
Alexa's team released a weak statement—trying to paint it as desperation.
But May? She doubled down. Interviewed by BuzzStyle, she said:
"Shane's not just mine in bed. She's mine in mind, body, and soul. Alexa can keep her dusty documents. I'll keep Shane's marks on my hips."
The internet collapsed.
Shane slammed the magazine on the table, cheeks red. "You told them that?!"
May looked smug. "Truth is sexy."
Shane growled under her breath, grabbed May by the waist, and hauled her onto her lap.
"Then let me give them more truth."
May's eyes widened—heat flaring.
"Now?"
"Right here."
"Shane—there are still staff in the house—"
Shane shut her up with a kiss, biting her bottom lip,voice dark. "They'll know not to come in when I lock the damn doors."