The Young And The Restless Victoria finds evidence that Cole faked cancer – how will she punish him?

Victoria stood in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun that filtered through the curtains of the Forester mansion, her fingers trembling around the crystal rim of her wine glass.

She and Cole had only just begun this new chapter—moving in together, blending lives and routines as lovers more in sync than ever before. Yet, with each passing hour, a gnawing sense of unease had settled in her chest.

Cole’s elaborate illness—admitted only weeks earlier—had brought them closer at breakneck speed. Her compassion, his vulnerability, their bond forged in the crucible of shared fear.

But now, watching him shuffle through the halls without a hint of pain, she realized the entire thing might be an exquisite lie.

The first red flag had been his refusal to allow any medical equipment in their shared home. No oxygen tanks, no pill bottles lined neatly by his bedside, no trace of the powerful painkillers he claimed to need.

Each excuse he offered—”I’m closer to recovery,” or “The doctors said I’m stable enough”—only heightened her anxiety.

How could he recover so fast, so miraculously, without treatment? Why did every question about his condition make him glance away, jaw tight?

Victoria was nothing if not thorough. One night, after Cole had drifted into deep sleep, she crept from their bed and padded across the plush carpet to his desk. Her heart pounded in her ears, part dread, part adrenaline, as she lifted the lid of the mahogany roll-top.

What she found made her knees buckle.

Meticulously organized folders labeled: Phase One, Phase Two, The Finale. Inside were hand-drawn charts, timetables, and mock news releases describing the public’s reaction to his decline.

Letters—typed to appear handwritten by sympathetic strangers—detailing donations, sympathy, and projected share price swings at Spencer Publications.

Every tear, every fearful confession, every tender moment—it had all been orchestrated. Cole Spencer, scion of a media empire, master manipulator, had engineered his own tragedy to win her heart. To ensnare her affections faster than any real romance ever could.

Rage scorched through her veins. How dare he weaponize her empathy? How could she, a woman used to controlling every aspect of her life, have been so blind?

When Cole stirred in his sleep, she didn’t have time to shut the desk. His jet-black eyes snapped open, panic flashing in his gaze. He lunged to his feet, chest heaving.

“Victoria,” he choked out. “You shouldn’t have gone through my things.”

Without hesitation, she shoved aside the chair. “So it’s all a game to you then?” she spat, her voice trembling. “The illness, the suffering, our love—it’s just another story for you to spin?”

Cole’s face darkened. He looked less like the charming deceiver and more like a desperate man caught in the fire of his own making. “I—” he began, but faltered.

“You risked my trust, my respect, and for what? To see how far you could push me? To watch me fall in love with a sick man only to reveal it was all fake?”

He took a step forward, hands raised as if in surrender, but she recoiled.

“I did it because I couldn’t bear another day of your pity,” he said, voice low and raw. “I wanted you to see me as more than the heir to a fortune. I wanted you to see me as someone worth saving.”

Victoria’s heart twisted. Was it true? Or another manipulation?

“I need time,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Anything.”

She turned away, unsure if the man she loved had ever truly existed.

Victoria’s fury burned hotter than the midday sun as she stood in the grand hallway of the Spencer estate. Her heart ached with betrayal, yet a quiet relief flickered in her chest. Cole wasn’t dying. It had all been a lie—but he would live. How maddening that such a truth could comfort her.

Clare, watching from the shadows, felt her own guilt simmer. She had helped Cole devise this deception—perfected the narrative, hidden the clues. If Victoria found out, Clare’s world would crumble too.

Later that night, Cole and Clare met in the library. The firelight cast shadows as they whispered strategies—spin the betrayal into a test of love, appeal to Victoria’s pride, convince her she had drawn the real Cole out.

“She’ll believe she saved you,” Clare murmured.

Cole hesitated. “What if she sees only the betrayal?”

“Then we adapt. Accept her wrath. Make it part of your redemption.”

Meanwhile, alone in her chambers, Victoria wrestled with memory. His warmth, his laughter, the vulnerable whispers in the night—had none of it been real?

By morning, only one thing was certain: the real test of their love had only just begun.

In a quiet café, days later, Victoria brought Cole to meet Nick. The tension cracked under Nick’s smirk.

“Welcome back from the dead,” he joked.

Victoria’s cheeks flushed. Cole managed a tight smile. He wasn’t sure what unnerved him more—facing Victoria’s family or living in the lie he’d created.

The reckoning was coming. But would love, twisted as it was, find a way to survive?