–Noah: Did you see this?
He includes a link to some article byThe Hollywood News. It’s a notorious gossip site, most of it crap.
Love Gone Wrong?the headline reads.
I can feel my brow knitting as I scroll down. A photo of me and Luce last night. And…Gabriella? Why was she here? I didn’t invite her, and Luce had no reason to either.
Crashing a party simply isn’t Gabriella’s style. She’s too proud to go to an event where she isn’t going to be adored and fêted.
Did some asshole atThe Hollywood NewsPhotoshop this? I look carefully, but it’s impossible to tell. These days, you can fake anything, including videos.
The text that accompanies the pictures claims that after Luce stole me from Gabriella—the “reporter” doesn’t believe what the latter said about there being no man stealing—I apparently realized that I didn’t want to give up Gabriella and invited her to the party for a “rendezvous.” According to a “source close to the couple,” the reason Luce disappeared for the rest of the party is because she caught me and Gabriella together. The writer’s certain we’re going to have an ugly divorce, and Gabriella has to decide if she wants to take back the man who left her for another woman.
This is malicious, even forThe Hollywood News. But what’s disturbing is that nobody with any connection to media was at the party. The staff who catered and took care of security were all vetted and clean.
So. That leaves the guests.
Who would hate Luce enough to do this?
Karl.
Damn it. I should’ve broken his phone last night.
–Nicholas: So easy to be a “journalist” these days.
–Huxley: That’s why we have defamation lawsuits.
–Noah: Careful. The Streisand effect and all.
–Huxley: You may not have to sue. Just mention Bollea v. Gawker, and they’ll cave.
–Griffin: Isn’t that the lawsuit that bankrupted Gawker?
–Huxley: Yup. Fuck around and find out. It isn’t that expensive to bankroll a lawsuit like that.
It’s tempting. Luce could see the article and stress. She was so anxious about the party. She doesn’t need this.
The doorbell rings. I glance at the grandfather clock in the living room—9:48 a.m.Who’s visiting this early?Did Luce hear the chime, too? It was pretty loud.
It rings again. Better not be some “journalists” wanting comments.
I check the security panel screen, then scowl when I see Mom’s chauffeur by the gates.
What does she want?
I let the car through, then wait by the main door so they don’t hit the bell again and disturb Luce.
Mom’s Phantom pulls into the driveway. The chauffeur jumps out and opens her door. She climbs out, gorgeously attired in a sleeveless black-and-white dress that shows off the body she spends hours in the gym to maintain. Her ears glitter with four diamonds each, and clusters of sapphires and diamonds sparkle on her throat. Her hands are covered with thin black gloves that come all the way to her elbows.
What’s gotten into her now? This is herI’m here to complain about the injustice of the worldmode. The only “injustice” I can think of is the fact that she can’t control her funds, and I’ve made some adjustments to how the Comtois family trusts distribute money. But that’s what she gets for trying to backstab me.
Travis climbs out after her. He’s in a neutral beige sports jacket, white button-down shirt and buck-hide-colored slacks. There’s a medium-thick gold chain around his neck and a thick ring with the Comtois family insignia on his finger, like he’s desperate to show the world he’s one of us.
He’s here to lend her his support. Not sure why he’s bothering, since he’s never been able to influence my decisions. Perhaps in his mind he’s a father figure to me, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Just because he married my mom doesn’t make him my dad, and I only tolerate him because it would upset her if I didn’t.
Still, he’s trying. Somebody give him pompoms.
“Mother,” I say impassively.
