All Chapters of SHATTERED VOWS : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Rachael's POV“WTF. WTF. WTF!” I yell, pacing across my bedroom like a caged animal. My hands are on my head as if holding my skull together will somehow help me process the bomb Jake had just dropped on me.I sit. I stand. I lie down. Then I stand again, unable to stay still for even a second. My hands move to my mouth, and I start biting my nails, a nervous habit I thought I’d kicked years ago. This was too much. Way too much.Jake is Jack’s stepbrother?“Oh my God,” I groan, sinking to the edge of the bed. My head feeling like it might explode. If I’d known this before, I would never have agreed to this ridiculous plan. No way. Not in a million years.Jake… Jake wasn’t just seeking revenge—he was out for blood.I could see it in his eyes when he told me that story. He looked sad, yes, but beneath that sadness was something darker. Something lethal. Jake didn’t just want justice; he wanted to see the Crawfords burn, reduced to nothing but ashes.As for me? All I wanted was for them

I had so much on my plate today—shopping, a trip to the hairstylist, and, if time allowed, a visit to Amy’s. I needed to talk to her. After all, I had essentially disappeared yesterday into a whirlwind of chaos, and I hadn’t spoken to her since.With no other options, I slip into yesterday’s dress, grab my bag, and head for the door. Jake was back in his room presumably asleep, so I didn’t see the need to wake him. I did, however, take one of his car keys, just as he’d instructed me to if I ever needed to go out.As I step outside, the sleek car in the driveway almost intimidates me. It was pristine, expensive, and way out of my comfort zone. The thought of scratching it or, God forbid, getting into an accident made my stomach twist. If anything happened to it, I’d probably have to sell everything I owned—including myself—to pay Jake back. With that in mind, I resolve to drive at a snail’s pace, safety over style.As I exited the estate, I find myself once again in awe of the neighbor

RACHAEL’S POVThat morning, I woke up to the worst wine hangover headache of my life. My skull felt like a marching band was stomping through it. After downing a glass of water and popping some aspirin, I started to feel human again. But as I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth, the reality of the day ahead hit me like a freight train.The luncheon.My heart started racing, and I had to sit down on the edge of the bed to catch my breath. I glanced at the bedside table and saw the unopened bottle of wine I’d left there the day before. A thought crossed my mind: Wouldn’t it be easier to face those people with a bit of liquid courage?I hesitated for a moment, then uncorked the bottle, poured myself a glass, and downed it in one go. The warmth spread through me almost instantly, numbing the anxiety clawing at my chest."Probably a bad idea," I whispered, already feeling yesterday’s tipsiness creeping back. Jake’s going to be pissed. I chuckled at the thought, but he didn’t ne

JAKE’S POV“How dare you touch my wife?” I growl, my voice low but seething with fury as I step closer to Jack. Every fiber of my being wants to teach him a lesson he’d never forget. My fists clench tightly, itching to connect with his smug, arrogant face again.Before I could strike, the door slams open, and Karen enters, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her voice pierces the air, dripping with annoyance and disdain.“What is going on in here?” she demands, scanning the room. Her sharp eyes land on Racheal, her expression twisting with disdain. “You? What are you still doing here? Did you attack my son?”Rachael steps forward, her anger evident in her trembling stance, ready to respond. I quickly move in front of her, shielding her from Karen’s venomous accusations.“Your son attacked my wife,” I snap, my words hitting Karen like a slap.Karen freezes, her sharp tongue momentarily silenced. “Your wife?” she echoes, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.“Yes,” I confirm,

JAKE'S POVRachael had caught me off guard again. The way she jumped into planning our next move so quickly reminded me why she was different—why she kept surprising me every day. This woman was unshakable. Most people would’ve retreated to their rooms, locked the door, and drowned in self-pity after what she’d been through. But not Rachael. Her determination matched my own, and I respected her more.Now, as I pull up at the towering Crawford building, I take a deep breath. I couldn’t afford to show even a hint of doubt. I needed to be on top of my game.Inside the elevator, I square my shoulders and adjust my tie, masking the nerves bubbling just below the surface. When the doors open, the energy in the place is palpable. People rush back and forth like their lives depend on it, papers in hand, murmuring urgent conversations.It doesn’t take long for me to find the boardroom; the glass doors stand open, revealing a long table surrounded by men and women in sharp suits. Some faces are