What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger novel Chapter 86

Atlas had never imagined that the woman he once saw as pure and kind—his first love—could be capable of something so cruel.

That she would dare to hurt his wife and be responsible for the death of his child.

His entire world tilted as he stared at Ivy, his gaze dark and unreadable. For the first time, he looked at her not as someone he had once adored, but as a stranger.

Ivy's composure cracked, and panic took its place. Large, glistening tears streamed down her face, her breaths ragged with desperation.

The hot droplets landed on Atlas's ice-cold hands, but he didn't move.

"This isn't real," she choked out, shaking her head violently. "I didn't do this. Those videos are fake—they've been edited! It's Celeste! She set me up because she's jealous of how much you love me! She's trying to turn you against me—"

"Enough." The word came out like a growl, low and lethal. Atlas's patience snapped, his anger no longer restrained.

His temples throbbed, veins prominent against his skin, his fury barely contained.

"You're still lying?" His voice was deadly quiet, yet it carried enough weight to silence the room. "Even now, you're trying to blame Celeste?"

His chest rose and fell with barely contained rage.

"She's not that kind of person, Ivy." His voice trembled with fury. "And you—" He let out a short, bitter laugh. "You've disappointed me more than I ever thought possible."

Ivy's lips parted slightly, stunned. For the first time, he wasn't defending her.

Tears still clung to her lashes, but a slow, twisted smirk curled on her lips.

"You don't believe me?" she asked, her tone no longer desperate but mocking. She let out a sharp, hollow laugh, her eyes flickering with something dark.

"Atlas, you claim to love me," she spat, "but look at you. The moment Celeste is involved, you turn on me without hesitation. You don't love me—you never have."

A cold realization seeped into her expression.

"You love her," she whispered. "You've always loved her."

Atlas stilled. His fingers twitched at his sides. His breath came unevenly, as if his own body was rejecting the truth being spoken aloud.

"You think Celeste will forgive you?" Ivy taunted, her voice like poison.

His grip tightened. "Celeste loves me. She would never leave me. She can't leave me."

His mind roared with only one thought—if Ivy hadn't existed, Celeste wouldn't have left.

He squeezed harder.

Ivy's hands clawed at his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as she gasped for breath, her body convulsing against his hold.

"Atlas—!" she choked, her eyes wide with horror. Black spots danced in her vision.

Her chest tightened, every breath becoming harder, shallower—

"Mr. Whitmore!"

A strong grip yanked at his arm, trying to pull him back---his assistant.

"You need to stop!" the man's voice was urgent, desperate. "If you kill her—you'll never see Celeste again!"