My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see Benson had arrived. I told Dmitri to let him in before I got to my feet.
“We’ll get this sorted. My PR guy is here.”
“Good,” Cole said, coming to me, bringing Anson and Klaus with him on the video call.
He handed me the phone as Benson opened the door and stepped inside. I nodded for him to follow me, taking Cole’s phone to my office.
I settled behind my desk, and Benson sat across from me with his assistant, Calvin.
I propped up the phone so Anson and Klaus could be a part of the meeting. I assumed Rosalie would be joining us in a moment at the very least.
“Benson. This is Anson Beyers and Klaus Seeley,” I started. “Guys, this is Benson, my PR guy.”
They all greeted one another before Benson began.
“Obviously, I’d like to extend my apologies for the situation, Mr. Beyers,” Benson began. “It’s not my client’s intention to cause issues?—”
“Benson, right?” Anson broke in.
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t need an apology. This is not Enzo’s fault. Someone was talking at that hospital, clearly violating privacy policies and NDAs. My team is digging into that now. What I want to know is what you plan on doing on Enzo’s end to smooth this over.” Anson was no-nonsense and, in that moment, reminded me ofhis father, Matteo De Santis, who had been one of the most feared men in the world.
“I was thinking we would do a press conference,” Benson said. “Or perhaps a livestream. Mr. De Luca could take that time to explain his past with Bishop. The photos are from that relationship, right?”
“They are,” I said. “Half a decade old at least. Nothing recent. Just like the previous videos.”
“Sir,” Calvin broke in. I noticed he’d been scrolling his phone.
“What?” I demanded.
“Uh, another story is out. With pictures.” He held his phone out to me, and I took it and stared down at it. Images of me at the hospital graced the screen.
Rustic Rifles CEO Lorenzo De Luca Seen Supporting Bishop at Hospital.
I frowned and scrolled the article, stopping on the image. My stomach twisted.
“This is security footage,” I said. “It’s a still from video footage. Anson?—”
“On it,” he said immediately. “Send me the link for the video.”
Someone at the hospital had done this. Probably a way to turn a quick buck. That meant more images would pour in soon from Rosalie’s hospital stay.
E came into the room and took a seat, giving me a grim look.
“There’s more,” E said, offering me the iPad. I took it, feeling the color drain from my face.
Another sex tape.
I suppose it was just as tasteful as the last one, since it didn’t show much, but it was definitely something Cole and I had done with Rosalie years ago. Her red curls were visible beneath me as I moved beneath the sheets, her diamond engagement ring glinting in the lighting as her fingers dug into my back.
“What is it?” Klaus demanded from the video call.
“It’s… It’s another sex tape. Me and Rosalie. Cole made it years ago,” I said.
Klaus swore on the call in German and stood, disappearing from sight.
“I don’t know how this is happening,” I said thickly. I’d had men searching high and low for this stalker prick, but nothing came back. Whoever it was covered their tracks.
