Rebirth Snatching Back My Stolen Luck novel Chapter 55

“Brandon posted a video of us at the rooftop café yesterday,” Dean said, voice grim. “He edited it to make it look like you cheated on him with me.”

“The clip has gone viral.”

It took me a moment to process his words.

Then I glanced at his face to see if he was kidding.

He was not.

His face was dead serious.

My fists curled up as I stood up. “Can I see it?”

“I asked Callum to send it… ah, here it is.”

He came to stand beside me and played the clip.

It was exactly as he’d said–snippets cut and rearranged into a crude little drama: Brandon speaking softly to me, me slapping him, Dean hitting him, grabbing my wrist, dragging me away, and us getting into his car.

I’d been painted as the arrogant, unfaithful fiancée walking off with her shameless lover.

My grip tightened on the phone.

Brandon.

How dare he.

How dare he set us up?

In the next moment, Dean gently pried the phone from my clenched hand.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, slipping it back into his inner coat.

Then his hands came to my shoulders, his gaze locking firmly with mine.

“Trust me. I’ll handle this.”

I pushed his hands off, my voice cold.

“This is my problem. I can handle it.”

He didn’t flinch or look annoyed. Instead, he studied me with that unshakable calm of his.

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Chapter 55

“How?”

Before I could answer, he cut in.

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“I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this isn’t like what happened in the ballroom. Brandon isn’t just playing dirty–he’s waging a public opinion war.”

“He’s making it so that neither you nor your family can call off the engagement, without looking like the villains.”

Dean’s tone was steady, but each word landed like a hammer.

“No matter what cards you’ve got up your sleeve, without the right strategy, you’ll only bury yourself deeper into his trap.”

His next words were quiet, but sharp.

“You can’t fix this alone, Elise.”

LILITH

I understood his logic–but it didn’t mean I was convinced.

“As long as I upload the banquet footage and other proofs of his affair with Claire, wouldn’t everyone see who’s right and who’s wrong?”

Dean let out a slow, helpless sigh. “You think too simply.”

“Maybe this is Brandon’s desperate attempt to keep his engagement with you, but even so, he wouldn’t have made such a move without a plan—a foolproof one.”

“We don’t have the faintest idea of what he’s plotting. Acting rashly wouldn’t benefit us in any way..”

“You think the truth will bury him,” he went on, “but if you throw it out without strategy, it could just as easily bury

you.”

“It shows him cheating,” I shot back, folding my arms and lifting my chin defiantly. “That’s ironclad evidence.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “But you should know that he truth doesn’t always win the public opinion war. Controlling the narrative does – and right now, Brandon’s side is holding the wheels.”

He leaned closer. “The public doesn’t care who’s truly right. They care about drama. By the time you speak, most will have already picked a side.”

“And that banquet footage?” He shook his head. “You can’t share it freely. There are people in there who won’t take kindly to being dragged into this. In the worst case, they’ll sue.”

“I can’t do this, can’t do that…” My voice sharpened as I paced. “So what do you expect me to do? Sit here like a sit- ting duck?”

Dean caught my shoulders, holding me in place. “You don’t have to do anything. Like I said

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let me handle it

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I met his eyes. “And why should I do that? Who are you to me?”

A flicker of hurt crossed his face. I pretended not to notice.

“I’m sick of playing damsel in distress,” I said firmly. “Always hiding behind others. Always waiting for someone else to fix things. Putting my life in other people’s hands.”

“In this new life-” I paused. I’d almost slipped and let the cat out of the bag. “This time, I want to live differently. Not as a caged bird. But as someone who holds her fate firmly in her own hands.”

I straightened up. “So if you really want to help me, teach me. Let’s handle this together. That way, next time, I won’t be clueless when it’s time to fight back.”

We stood in a silent standoff, eyes locked, reading each other. Gauging each other’s bottomline.

Finally, he let go. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

“Thank you.” My voice softened. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that just now. I was just too… agitated.”

“Said what?” He pocketed his hands and asked, a casual smile on his face.

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