Chapter 8

Third-Person POV

It was another day. But not just any day. Today is the boxing event, golden rays piercing through the wall of windows in an unwelcome wake-up call.

Megan stirred beneath the luxurious sheets, body tense and mind already whirling. This was it - her moment to reclaim the narrative that her ex, Miles, had so ruthlessly tried to hijack.

"You've got this, champ," she muttered, the familiar mantra steadying her nerves as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her gaze landed on the tattered picture frame on the nightstand - a frozen moment of Miles' charming smile and her own adoring look, taken just weeks before the fateful night everything disintegrated.

Bile rose in her throat as the familiar sting of betrayal lanced through her. With an angered swipe, she sent the frame clattering to the floor, shattering the frozen fantasy.

"That bastard..." she spat, fists clenching the silken sheets until her knuckles strained. M