The joint op-ed we’d planned together — the one I’d spent three sleepless nights drafting, the one that was supposed to be ours — had been released twenty minutes ago. Solo. UnderSebastian’s name. With my research treated as supporting evidence rather than the foundation it actually was.
My phone buzzed. Jenna.
Girl, the op-ed just dropped. Did you know about the timing?
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My thumb hovered over the screen while my brain tried to reconcile the document in my hands with the man who’d held me two nights ago and promised we were partners. Who’d said beside you like he’d finally understood what the word required.
The ballroom doors loomed ahead, warm light spilling through the gap where servers moved in and out carrying champagne flutes. Somewhere behind those doors, Sebastian was probably working the room, shaking hands, playing the reformed billionaire while my credibility got fed into the wood chipper of corporate PR.
I smoothed my dress — a deep navy column I’d bought for myself three years ago for a press freedom awards ceremony, the one I reached for when I needed to remember who I was — and walked in anyway.
The gala was everything these events always were: obscene wealth performing concern for something other than itself. Crystal chandeliers cast diamond patterns across marble floors. Women in designer gowns circulated like exotic birds, their laughter pitched to carry. Men in bespoke suits clustered near the bar, talking deals disguised as small talk.
I spotted Sebastian immediately because my body had developed an inconvenient radar for him. Tall, devastating in midnight wool, his beard trimmed sharp. He stood near a cluster of board members, his posture relaxed in that way that meant he was anything but.
His eyes found mine across the room.
Something flickered there — relief, maybe, or recognition — before I watched it freeze into wariness as he read my face.
He knew. Good.
I didn’t walk toward him. Instead I moved through the crowd with purpose, letting people see me, letting them wonder. The whispers had already started, because of course they had. In this world, scandal traveled faster than light.
“—heard she was sleeping with him the entire time?—”
“—can’t trust anything she published now?—”
“—Laurent’s little pet journalist?—”
Each phrase landed like a slap I refused to feel. I’d been called worse by better people. What burned was the source of the fire — not the gossip itself, but who had handed them the matches.
Victoria Ashford materialized at my elbow, her smile sharp enough to draw blood. “Emilia. What a surprise to see you here. I would have thought tonight might be… uncomfortable.”
“Only for people who care about gossip, Victoria.” I plucked a champagne flute from a passing tray. Needed something to do with my hands that wasn’t strangling anyone. “I’m a journalist. I deal in facts.”
Her eyes glittered with malicious delight. “Facts like how you got your exclusive access? Some people might call that something other than journalism.”
The implication hit its mark, but I was done playing defense. “Some people don’t have the credentials to know the difference. Excuse me.”
I left her sputtering and made my way toward the grand staircase where Sebastian now stood with Charles Preston and two other board members.
Heads turned as I climbed. Conversations stuttered. Someone actually gasped, which would have been funny if I weren’t about to do something that might cost me everything.
“Gentlemen,” I said, my voice carrying in the sudden quiet. “Mind if I borrow Mr. Laurent for a moment?”
Charles Preston looked at Sebastian with an expression that screamed see, this is what we warned you about. Sebastian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“Of course.” Sebastian’s voice was level, controlled. “Excuse me.”
We moved to a quieter corner near a massive floral arrangement. The scent of hothouse roses hung thick and cloying around us.
“Em—”
“You used my work.” I kept my voice low, but the words came out sharp as broken glass. “You published our op-ed without my byline. You turned my investigation into your corporate narrative.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“I have the press release, Sebastian.” I held it up between us. “Laurent Enterprises announces strategic partnership with investigative findings. My findings. Positioned as supporting documentation for your transparency initiative.”
