Page 162 of Twisted Truth

“I’m aware my personal life is no longer wholly personal, but sharing something like this comes at a big cost.”

Asher furrows his brows. “The cost seems low to me. Kyle is in the wrong and you have proof of that.”

“It may seem low to you, but you’re not the one he assaulted. You’re not the one who watched your things burn. You’re not the one who feels like a complete fool for staying with someone who clearly thought so low of you as to hurt you. The entire situation is degrading and humiliating, and I don’t think I can just throw that out to the public. Do you know how many men will probably spout off that I deserved it somehow?”

“No one is going to say that.”

“Have you met men?”

“Ella, we can’t afford this bad press, we need to shut this down.”

“We had loads of good press in London, and while I’m not a fan of this particular bit of bad press, we’re still definitely on the positive side of things as far as image goes, this won’t destroy us.”

“The board is breathing down my neck, I don’t want this to give them any more ammunition. Henry is furious that the article brings up Charlotte.”

“I can’t help that.”

“No, but you can shut it down quickly by disputing every one of Kyle’s claims. Why wouldn’t you want to? Why would you let that piece of shit slander you?”

“I just told you, it’s humiliating. And it’s averyvulnerable position to be in.”

“He should be the one humiliated, he’s the one that hurt you.”

“And yet, he clearly isn’t, is he? He’s so deluded he’s willing to go public and lie about me when he knows he did some very wrong things. I know I have the right side of things in my corner, but if I push out my narrative I may be linked to Kyle for the rest of my life and that’s thelastthing I want.”

“I need this story buried.”

“Then let’s contact RTZ and try to bury it. It doesn’t go live until tomorrow. There must be some way we can negotiate with them.”

Asher lets out an annoyed breath. “If you think my family hasn’t tried a thousand times to bury a story before it hits, you’re wrong. It never works. The press is full of assholes who are too greedy, too soulless to kill a story that will make them money. We have the proof on our side, we need to use it.”

“Yes, I have his texts, his videos, I even have pictures of myself with bruises on my arm and the side of my face where he threw me against a wall. But I don’t know if I am comfortable sharing that with the entire world.”

“You don’t have much of a choice.”

I see red. “I always have a choice,” I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper. Tears prick my eyes. I can’t believe how callous he’s being about this. “I’m sorry the board is pressuring you, but you’re being no better than them right now, pressuring me into something I’m completely against.”

“Ella—” Asher tries to cut in.

“Let me finish! I would never ask you to make public one of the most degrading moments of your life. I would take whatever hits the press spewed at me, and I would take them happily if it kept you safe and happy—if it protected something vulnerable for you. I would never ask you to do something you weren’t comfortable with, and you not only keep pushing me,you won’t even try to understand why this is such a big deal to me.”

“Sometimes in business we have to put our emotions aside and do what’s best for our goals. And in this case, our goal is to kill this story.”

Is he fucking kidding me right now?He’s going to patronize me about business and emotions? Fuck him. And it hits me clearly, so clearly, what a fool I am. While I’ve been stupidly falling in love with Asher, he’s continued to see me for exactly what I am to him—a PR stunt. Yes, he might feel the connection we have, and he likes me warming his bed, but he was clear—I’m a fake girlfriend and a good fuck—and nothing more. At the end of the day, I’m his employee. Why should he care about my feelings when they don’t benefit him and his objectives? Feelings are personal and this is business, and it’s clear where Asher stands on that.

I stand and gather my things.

“Sit down, Ella, we’re not finished.”

“I cannot have this discussion right now, Mr. Langford,” I say, my voice raw. “As you said, this is business and I’m far too emotional right now. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. I will make this story disappear, but I will do it my way.”

I hurry out of his office, ignoring Asher as he calls out my name. I can’t deal with him right now. If he doesn’t like it, he can fire me.

I march into the conference room, gather the rest of my things, ignoring my coworkers, and head out. Jenkins is a quiet figure next to me the entire time, but I do my best to block him out and forget he’s there. I have a story to kill, and I have an idea of how to do it, but it’s not fully formed yet. But if I focus on that task, and block out everything else, I can forget the pain clawing at my chest.

Jenkins headsinto the security room once we walk into Asher’s penthouse. Good. Now I just have to get out of here without him noticing. After Asher called me several times in a row, I texted him and told him I was working to kill the story and would talk later, then I shut off my phone. I can’t speak to him right now; I have to focus. The little bit of a plan that formed at the office is now a full-fledged plan, and I need to make it work.

I head into the bedroom and grab my old suitcase, grateful Matthew didn’t notice it and throw it out. It’s the suitcase I fled Zahra’s penthouse with. It’s not designer like all of Asher’s luggage. It’s just an ordinary black suitcase that’s fraying at the corners because I’ve had it since I was a teenager, but that only makes me appreciate it more. It’s simple and steady and as far from the insane glitz and glamor of Asher’s life as possible.