Shameless With You

Lila 

If my phone rang one more time, I swear I was going to turn it off. The thought had barely landed before my ringtone shrieked through the apartment again, drilling straight into my skull.

Ashley. For at least the tenth time that morning.

I stabbed the answer button. “What?”

“Are you dressed yet?”

I frowned at the ceiling. “Why? We’re meeting at twelve. It’s not twelve.”

“Yes…” Her voice trailed off, and I could practically hear her chewing her lip through the phone.

I sat up straighter. “Spill it, Ashley.”

“We might have a problem.”

My stomach knotted. “Define problem.”

She exhaled so hard it fuzzed through the speaker. “Okay, don’t freak out. But apparently, Blackwood is suing you.”

For a second, my brain flatlined. Then, boom boom boom, my heart took off. “The billionaire? Suing me? For what?” My brain booted harder. “The last two episodes? The one with his ex-fiancée?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“This is all because you don’t check the internet? You are an influencer!”

“Just tell me why.”

“The video blew up. You knew it would stir things up anyway. One million views in five hours, Lila. People are boycotting his companies. His new tech design’s been shelved, his shareholders are panicking, the whole thing is messy.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Great. This should make him take responsibility.”

“Apparently not, he is onto you.”

“Well, I was expecting some backlash. Should I call his ex-fiancée? The one who handed me the evidence? Or will someone on the team do that? She needs to prepare as well.”

“Natalie? She’s already with your manager and the CEO. They’re interviewing her now. She’s sticking to her story, crying her eyes out. She’s getting sued, too. Honestly, she looks even more convincing now than when she first came to you.”

I slumped into my chair, chewing on uncertainty. Not every day a billionaire dropped a lawsuit in your lap. Actually, never. I probably shouldn’t have been this relaxed.

Three years into this career, I had always played it carefully. Careful enough to vet stories, to double-check sources, to fight for justice without leaving cracks. And I believed that I had vetted this story and all the evidence as well.

But apparently, Nicholas Blackwood didn’t like consequences.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, my half-messy bun, half-done makeup, and dress still hanging on the chair. Right. As much as I wanted to stay home that day and overthink this, I still had that event tonight. Thousands of dollars in sponsorships were on the line.

I sighed, stepped out onto the balcony, and let the city view ground me. I tried not to think ahead of what was already happening.

A breeze lifted my hair, and it felt so good. For a moment, I almost forgot about overthinking.

Then a buzz sounded from nowhere.

A faint whir, something mechanical. Like a drone.

Just then, a drone rose into view. Its little camera eye swiveled, landing directly on me.

My pulse spiked. I froze, staring back at it.

Already? I had just been sued…

It could have been a coincidence. Maybe not. But then it edged closer, deliberately.

“What the hell…” I backed up slowly, slid the balcony door shut, and yanked the curtain across with shaking fingers. My chest heaved. Someone was watching me. Already.

I grabbed my phone, opened socials. And there it was—#LilaGraceIsSued. Eighty videos in twelve hours. Headlines stamped with a big Million-Dollar Lawsuit.

Before I could scroll further, my agency CEO’s name flashed across my screen.

“What’s up, Lila?”

“Hi, Mr. Andrews.” My voice came out tighter than I wanted it to; I had been scared for a minute. “I just checked socials. Apparently, there has been chaos since last night. I didn’t even get the letter—”

“We got it yesterday morning, during your live. Didn’t want to scare you until we reviewed it. But the public caught on fast.”

“So?”

“We are handling it.”

“I didn’t want to think much of the lawsuit, but I think I’m also being stalked,” I blurted. “There was a drone on my balcony.”

“I’m with Natalie right now. She brought lawyers; she says she’ll cover your fees, too. She’s more determined than ever. Don’t worry, you’re not alone in this. He’s guilty, Lila. This is just him trying to scare you. I will send someone to your apartment now and have the building tighten up the security.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to Natalie on the phone when I’m back. I’m already late for the event.”

He hesitated. “One more thing. Blackwood will be there.”

“Huh, representative of the company?”

“No, Nicholas Blackwood himself. Be yourself.”

“Was he supposed to be there?”

“I’m not sure. I think he just wants to see you. We can’t cancel; the sponsors would not take it lightly with us. Just… power through. Don’t let him intimidate you.”

I gritted my teeth, heat already crawling up my neck. He probably wouldn’t intimidate me, but he would drive me mad.

Why would the universe throw him in my face that day of all days? I was already angry as it was that I was being sued and there was a stalker drone outside my home.

“Will you be okay?” Andrews asked.

“I will.” My jaw clicked shut. He was the abuser, not me. He should have been the one afraid.

I got ready, slipped on my heels, squared my shoulders. I was going.

***

Three hours later, my smile ached. The event was filled with champagne flutes, expensive perfume-clouded air, and questions I dodged with polite laughter.

Ashley leaned close, whispering, “A few more minutes, and we’re free to leave. No Blackwood in sight now, I doubt he will be here, it should go freely today.”

I sipped my drink, kept my smile steady. “Since when are we afraid of the dark? He’s the one in the wrong, not me.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone being sued by a billionaire.”

“No one’s untouchable.”

And then unusual silence spread through the room.

The air shifted. Many eyes flicked toward the entrance.

It seemed like someone important had just arrived.

I looked at the situation again, and I suddenly didn’t need to look to know who. My skin prickled before I even turned.

Nicholas Blackwood.

How I wished I was out of there already.

Ashley whispered a prayer in my ear, “Sweet holy Jesus.”

I flicked her arm lightly. “Stop calling Jesus in vain.”

But when I turned back… I regretted never googling more pictures of Nicholas Blackwood. The one I had seen was a grainy 19th-century type of picture, and he didn’t seem like the type to come across in photos casually.

Who knew he stood about six foot three at least? He seemed like he was hiding his lean muscle under a tailored suit, you could tell. His shoulders broad enough to make the jacket look good. A jaw that could cut glass. A smile sharp enough to sell even sins. And even worse, he had a dimple that kept deepening every second of his smile.

The closer he got, the harder it was to look away. Even his hair looked perfect in that effortless, I-didn’t-even-try kind of way.

He looked like the kind of man you wish you had at home.

How does the devil always recruit the beautiful ones?

Even my uterus, which had been proudly celibate for years, suddenly started humming a hymn at that point.

Just when I started bracing myself for whatever slick thing was about to come out of his mouth, he smiled. Slow, deliberate. Teeth flashing, his dimples diving deep so much that you had to notice.

I didn’t dare look around, but I could feel every woman in the room lose structural integrity at the same time.

Weren’t tech bros supposed to be… mid? Rich and mid. So why did this one get to have both?