I laughed. I didn’t mean to, but it came out sharp and broken. “Of course they made an edit.”
“Daph.” Cam’s voice softened. “He did it for you.”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“I know. But he didn’t care. He heard that bastard say your name like that and… he couldn’t let it go.”
I swallowed. Hard.
My head throbbed with everything at once—the video, the trending hashtags, the weight of being that girl again. The woman who caused the scandal. The one who made a man lose his temper.
“He ruined his career,” I whispered. “For me.”
“Maybe,” Cam said. “Or maybe he just did what no one else was willing to. Including you.”
That stung. Not because he was wrong, but because part of me had known it. Kieren had always been fire and instinct. He didn’t wait for permission.
And he’d gone to war with a network for my name.
“Do you think he regrets it?” I asked, voice tight.
“I think he regrets everything right now,” Cam said. “But not for the reason you think.”
The line went quiet for a second.
Then he added, “He loves you, Daph. And now the whole world knows it.”
I stared down at my phone, still trembling.
The thing was—I wasn’t sure which terrified me more: the fallout… or the truth in those words.
I didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t think. Didn’t breathe.
I was already out the door, keys in hand, adrenaline turning my blood electric. I barely remembered locking up, barely remembered the drive—just the blur of red lights and my fingers clenched tight around the steering wheel.
By the time I reached the station, the media was already there—camped outside like vultures. Cameras flashing. Reporters murmuring into microphones like this was some goddamn red carpet event. My name was probably trending again, and I didn’t care.
I shoved past them, jaw tight, heart slamming. “I’m here for Kieren Walker,” I told the desk officer, and when he raised an eyebrow, I added, “He’s expecting me.”
A lie. But it didn’t matter. My name still held enough weight in this town to unlock doors—doors I had no business opening.
And then I saw him.
He was being led through the hallway, flanked by two officers. His lip was split. His knuckles were raw and swollen. His hair was a mess and his eyes—God, his eyes—were still burning like he hadn’t stopped fighting. Not even now.
My breath caught.
He looked like war. And he’d gone to battle for me.
“Kieren,” I said, stepping forward. I could feel everyone watching—cameras recording, whispers stirring—but in that moment, it was just him and me.
His gaze snapped to mine, wild and furious and heartbreakingly alive. And then something cracked in him. Like seeing me pulled him back from whatever edge he’d been standing on.
He didn’t say anything. Just stared. Like he wasn’t sure if I was real.
I stepped closer, my voice shaking. “What the hell were you thinking?”
