Chapter 163

Nina's POV

I spotted her in the police station corridor. My lips curved into the sweet smile.

"Sister!" I called out, my voice dripping with artificial warmth. She turned, those sharp eyes of hers taking in my carefully crafted appearance.

Inside, I was laughing. Look at her, pretending to be above it all, when she'd clearly come to gloat over Ian's downfall. Not that I blamed her - I'd have done the same. In fact, I was about to do much worse.

The officer led me through the hallways to the holding area. My watch showed 2:30 PM - perfect timing for the press to catch wind of my "emotional visit" to my "beloved" Ian. The story practically wrote itself: the devastated girlfriend, standing by her man until the bitter truth forced her to make the heartbreaking decision to walk away.

When they brought him in, I had to suppress a smirk. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Ian Whitmore, now looking like something the cat dragged in. His suit was wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and those eyes - those once-proud eyes were red-rimmed and desperate.

"Nina..." He reached for me across the table, and I recoiled instinctively.

"Disgusting," I said, not bothering to hide my revulsion. The hurt that flashed across his face was delicious. "Don't touch me with those hands."

"Nina, please..." His voice cracked. "You have to believe me. I did it all for us."

A laugh escaped me, sharp and cruel. "For us? Oh, Ian. There never was an 'us.' There was just you, being pathetically easy to manipulate."

He stared at me, uncomprehending. The time for pretense was over.

"Look at yourself," I continued, enjoying every word. "The great Ian Whitmore, reduced to this. Do you really think someone like me would want anything to do with you now?"

"What are you saying?" His hands were trembling on the table.

I leaned forward, dropping my voice to a stage whisper. "Should I spell it out for you? I never loved you, Ian. You were just Serena's man, and I wanted everything that was hers. It was almost too easy - a few batting eyelashes, some practiced smiles, and you came running like an eager puppy."

The color drained from his face. "You're lying. All those times we..."

"Were a performance," I cut him off. "And not even my best one. But you were so desperate to believe that someone like me could actually love someone like you." I laughed again. "God, your insecurity made it almost boring. No challenge at all."

He lunged across the table, hands reaching for my throat, but the officer was faster. As they wrestled him back into his chair, I didn't even flinch. His rage only made this sweeter.

"I came here today to put on a show for the media," I said, smoothing my skirt. "To ensure my clean break from your scandal. I could have left you with your delusions, but..." I shrugged elegantly. "Where's the fun in that?"

"You'll pay for this," he snarled, struggling against the officer's restraining grip. "When I tell everyone-"

"Tell them what?" I stood, gathering my bag. "That you were stupid enough to let yourself be played? That you threw away a woman who actually loved you for someone who saw you as nothing but a stepping stone?" I checked my reflection in my compact mirror, adjusting my lipstick. "Go ahead. It'll just make you look even more pathetic."

I turned to the officer, my practiced smile back in place. "I think we're done here. I have a press conference to attend - you know, to express my shock and disappointment at discovering Mr. Whitmore's true nature."

I savored the sight of Ian's broken expression one last time.

"Enjoy your cage, you rabid dog," I said, letting my voice drip with contempt. "You can spend the rest of your life going crazy in here."

He lunged forward again, but the officers were ready this time. As they restrained him, I couldn't help but laugh. Such a predictable reaction - like a puppet dancing on strings.

"You think this is funny?" he snarled.

"Actually, yes." I adjusted my scarf with deliberate elegance. "Watching you destroy yourself has been quite entertaining. Though I must admit, you made it almost too easy."

The door closed behind me with a satisfying click, shutting off his incoherent rage. Finally, I could be rid of this plague. In the quiet of the corridor, I began my transformation. The mask of the devastated girlfriend slid into place with practiced ease.

My fingers trembled slightly as I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue. The walk to the media area was like preparing to step onto a stage. I could already hear the clamor of reporters, see the flash of cameras through the precinct's glass doors. Time to give them what they came for - the heartbroken society darling, betrayed by the man she trusted.

I pushed open the doors, letting my eyes widen with practiced surprise at the wall of cameras. The flashbulbs exploded, and I instinctively raised a hand to shield my face - a gesture that would look perfectly vulnerable in tomorrow's papers.

"Miss Sinclair! How do you feel about Mr. Whitmore's arrest?"

I let my lower lip tremble. "I... I never knew..." My voice cracked perfectly. "Until I saw the news..."

The reporters pressed closer, hungry for more. My security detail formed a protective circle around me, adding to the drama of the moment. Perfect - it would make me look even more sympathetic.

"Did you have any idea about his plans?"

I shook my head, letting tears well up in my eyes. "How could I have known? The man I thought I knew..." I paused for effect, dabbing at my eyes with a handkerchief. "The man I loved would never have done something so terrible. Especially not to my sister."

The cameras clicked furiously at the mention of Serena. I could already see the headlines forming: "Devastated Nina Sinclair Stands by Family Despite Heartbreak."

"He asked for my help," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper - forcing them to lean in, to strain to catch every word. "He wanted me to help reduce his sentence. But I refused." I straightened my shoulders, letting steel enter my voice. "The law must take its course. No matter how much it hurts."

A reporter pressed forward. "How do you feel about Mr. Whitmore now?"

This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I let my carefully constructed composure crack, tears spilling down my cheeks. "Even if he hadn't done this to my sister... I could never forgive such a betrayal of trust. The Ian Whitmore I knew was an illusion, and I..." I broke off, pressing the handkerchief to my lips.

My security chief stepped forward. "Miss Sinclair needs rest. No more questions."

Right on cue, I swayed slightly, as if overcome by emotion. The photographers went wild, capturing my moment of "weakness." My security detail closed ranks, guiding me toward the waiting car.

Just before stepping in, I turned back to the cameras one last time. "I just pray that justice will be served," I said softly, letting my voice break on the last word.

The car door closed behind me, shutting out the chaos. As we pulled away from the precinct, I finally allowed myself a real smile.