Those were the only words Kyle Abbott could whisper as the world around him collapsed in deafening silence.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. In fact, he had only ducked into the secluded corridor outside the Bronte executive suite to take a breath, to clear his head after a bruising meeting with Clare. But what he heard — the soft, hurried tones of Audra Charles behind a barely ajar door, her voice sharp with anxiety and edged with something darker — would change everything.

“She wanted you broken, Kyle. You were never the target. The lesson was.”

Kyle’s breath caught.

He pressed himself against the cold marble wall, the hum of the hallway lights suddenly loud in his ears. His pulse thundered. He dared not move, not even blink. The woman inside continued — talking to someone he couldn’t yet see — unaware that the very man they spoke of stood feet away.

“Diane said he’d never listen to her outright, that he’d charge in, ruin himself. She just needed you to follow your instincts — and for me to give you just enough truth to tempt you further.”

Audra’s voice trembled, laced with the fear of someone revealing too much, too fast. But the damage was done.

Diane.

His mother.

The architect of his downfall?

Kyle stumbled back, nearly losing balance as he collided with the corner of a gilded planter. The sound was enough to alert Audra. The door swung open.

There she stood, poised but pale, her eyes locking with Kyle’s — wide, panicked, desperate.

“Kyle—” she began, but the rest fell apart in her throat.

He didn’t wait. Didn’t ask. He turned and walked. Fast. The echo of his shoes down the polished hallway felt like gunshots in a cathedral.

Back at the Abbott mansion, Diane was in the solarium, sipping tea as the soft notes of classical music drifted through the air. She had just sent another message to a former Newman board member, another quiet domino in her meticulous campaign. The day had gone as planned.

Until Kyle stormed in.

No greetings. No preamble.

Just five words, each one cutting like a blade.

“How long have you known?”

Diane’s hands froze mid-motion. She looked up. Her eyes searched his, but Kyle had built a wall now — the same kind she had once taught him to recognize in ruthless men.

“Kyle,” she said softly, “whatever you think you heard—”

“Stop.”

One word. Commanding. Final.

His voice cracked under the strain, as if his soul itself were splintering. “Did you set me up? Did you pull strings behind my back just to prove a point? To make me… what? Fail? Crawl back to you? Become the man you think I should be?”

“I protected you,” she said at last, her tone a fragile whisper. “Victor was moving. Audra was the knife. I only gave it direction.”

Kyle staggered back as if her confession had physically struck him. The worst part wasn’t her betrayal.

It was that it almost made sense.

“You think love is manipulation,” he choked. “You always have. I just never thought you’d use it on me.”

Tears welled in Diane’s eyes, but Kyle was already turning away. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t cry now. Not when you didn’t think twice about breaking me to prove you care.”

He left before she could explain further.

Before she could say that she had never meant for him to get hurt — not really. That she’d hoped he would stop, that he’d listen, that she’d never have to pull the final string.

But now, everything was unraveling.

Clare wasn’t answering his calls. Audra had gone silent. Victor Newman, undoubtedly, knew more than he let on. And Kyle, standing alone at the edge of a cliff carved by secrets and half-truths, no longer knew whom he could trust.

The next morning, Jack found Diane sitting alone in the darkened study, her eyes red-rimmed, the untouched tea from the night before still cold in its porcelain cup.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

“I lost him,” Diane replied. “Not to war or illness or distance. But to me.”

And somewhere across town, Kyle watched the sun rise over Chancellor Park, feeling less like a man who had been saved and more like a pawn who had finally seen the board.

He remembered every lesson she had taught him, every story she’d ever told him about resilience, strength, family.

But she had left out the part where the enemy could sometimes be the one who tucked you in at night.

Now, the game has changed. And Kyle’s next move?
That will determine whether the Abbott legacy survives… or whether this betrayal rips it apart.

Would you have forgiven Diane?