Evan Ross stands just behind Manny. His notebook in hand, eyebrows lifting a fraction too slowly.
Lila and I step apart.
“That’s… interesting,” Evan says quietly.
The weight of my mistake lands heavy.
Irrevocable.
Evan steps aside.
Behind him, voices rise. Too many. Too fast.
Manny swears under his breath as cameras start to appear over shoulders, microphones lifting like reflexes.
I feel Lila’s hand tighten at my side. Not pulling away.
Gripping.
Good.
I keep my arm around her. Solid. Intentional. Like this is exactly where it belongs.
“Cam,” Manny says under his breath, tight and urgent, “we need to move. Now.”
Cameras start firing again. Rapid. Frenzied.
“Are you married?”
“When did this happen?”
“Is this related to the lawsuit?”
“Lila, can you confirm—”
I don’t answer.
I lean toward Lila, forehead close to hers. “You’re safe,” I murmur. “I’ve got you.”
Her fingers curl into my jacket.
Then Manny steps in, security surges forward.
As we move, someone shouts, “Is this a cover story?”
I don’t break stride.
I glance back just once. Let them see my face. Calm. Unapologetic.
“No,” I say clearly. “It’s my life.”
The SUV doors slam shut behind us, cutting off the noise like a blade.
Chapter nineteen
Lila
Iwake to my phone vibrating itself toward the edge of the nightstand like it’s trying to escape. Notifications stacked on notifications. Missed calls. Texts from numbers I don’t have saved.
