Monday morning started like any other: chaos, caffeine, and the nagging realization that my life was spiraling out of control. But this particular morning, chaos decided to kick things up a notch.
Lucy was the one who broke the news. She spun her chair toward me with a dramatic gasp, shoving her phone in my face before I could even take a sip of my coffee. “Holy shit, Sophie. Have you seen this?”
I squinted at the screen, my stomach sinking as I read the painfully intimate text messages supposedly sent by Princess Anna to her alleged lover. Screenshots. Actual screenshots. Complete with emojis I wished I could erase from my memory.
“Her husband leaked these?” I asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.
Lucy nodded solemnly. “Yup. He posted them on Instagram this morning. Classy move, right?”
Classy wasn’t the word I would’ve used.
I barely had time to process the scandal before Alex called me into his office.
“Big day for you, Hollis,” he said, leaning back in his chair like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.
“Big day?” I asked, my stomach twisting.
He gestured at his computer screen. “We’ve got her now. These texts? They’re the final nail in her coffin. She’s done.”
“Done?” I repeated, frowning.
“Finished. Kaput. These texts are gold. I want you to go after her, Hollis. No kid gloves, no sympathetic angles. Nail her to the cross.”
I stared at him, horrified. “But isn’t the point to—”
“To get the story everyone’s going to be talking about,” Alex interrupted smoothly. He stood, sauntering around his desk until he was far too close for comfort. “That’s your job, Hollis.”
My mind raced as I tried to reconcile the trust Darcy had placed in me with Alex’s cutthroat instructions.
“And speaking of things I enjoy…” Alex’s voice dropped as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the torn panties he’d taken from me during our garden encounter.
My face went beet red as he dangled them between us like some kind of twisted trophy.
“There’ll be more where this came from,” he added, his grin wicked enough to make my stomach flip for all the wrong reasons.
I flushed, torn between wanting to slap him and… well, something much worse that I wasn’t ready to admit even to myself.
Later, I relayed the whole thing to Lucy over lunch.
“Okay, yes, he’s a total jerk,” Lucy admitted, though her eyes were gleaming with something suspiciously close to glee. “But he’s also so hot. Like, villain-in-a-rom-com hot.”
“Lucy!” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
“What? I’m just saying!”
The day took an even stranger turn when my phone buzzed that afternoon. Darcy’s name flashed on the screen, and I froze, the memory of his stormy expression from the gala flashing in my mind.
“Miss Hollis,” he said curtly when I answered. His voice was professional, but there was an undercurrent of something heavier. “We need to talk.”
I swallowed. “About what?”
“There’s another journalist gunning for the interview,” Darcy replied. “Julianne Kingsley. Princess Anna wants to meet you both before deciding who she’ll speak to.”
Great. Just great. The last thing I needed was to go head-to-head with Julianne Kingsley, who probably ate journalists like me for breakfast.
“Fine,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “When and where?”
Darcy gave me the details before hanging up, leaving me staring at my phone, my nerves in overdrive.
Lucy looked up from her phone. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, though my voice was far from convincing. “Just my life falling apart, one bombshell at a time.”