3

The noise in my head was louder than the paparazzi had been.

What have I done?

The news was everywhere. I didn’t need to scroll anymore. Notifications were popping up faster than I could blink.

“Unidentified girl seen exiting Nathan Blake’s suite in nothing but his shirt.”

Slut. Climber. Opportunist.

Those words weren’t there yet, but they would be. I could already feel them breathing down my neck.

My body sat still, but my mind ran wild.

Would I ever walk in public again without being slut-shamed?

Would I ever get another job?

How would I survive this?

And then...

Dad.

My eyes widened in terror.

What if he saw the news?

What if his old-school, overly righteous mind saw my face smeared all over blogs and headlines?

I scrambled to check my phone.

2:29 p.m.

A sharp, eerie stillness swallowed the hallway outside. Like someone hit mute on reality.

Nathan received a call.

He answered, didn’t say much, just nodded.

I watched him like he was holding my fate in his hand.

“It’s done,” he muttered, voice low. “They’re cleared out.”

I didn’t understand.

“The crowd. My team handled it.”

Oh.

For a second, I thought he was a real human being with empathy.

Then he looked at me like I was a hair in his soup.

“You can leave now.”

I opened my mouth to say something,but the words never formed.

I barely lifted a finger.

“LEAVE!” he barked.

My heart jumped into my throat. I stumbled back, nodded quickly, and mumbled, “Okay…”

As I made my way down the empty hallway of the five-star prison that had ruined my life, I thought:

Nathan Blake is a terrible person.

The automatic glass doors slid open. I was seconds from disappearing into the early morning shadows when I heard it....

“IVY CARTER!”

I froze.

I turned slowly.

It was Victor. The hotel manager.

With two police officers.

Was I going to jail?

Was this really my life now , viral for all the wrong reasons?

My dreams had been small: get a stable job, pay Dad back, maybe sneak a selfie with Brian Jay. Not this. Not being paraded like a criminal.

This was it.

Not just jobless. Not just scandalized.

Arrested.

My legs shook beneath me. My entire life was unraveling like a cheap thread.

Victor’s eyes were bloodshot and vengeful, and the officers looked like they had already made up their minds.

“You’re under suspicion for....”

“That’s enough.”

A new voice cut through the air like a hot knife.

From behind Victor stepped a tall man in a black coat, holding an ID badge.

Calm and Smooth.

Mr Desmond,Nathan’s personal manager.

“Mr Nathan won't be pressing any charges,thank you." He said.

One of the officers cleared his throat. “Apologies, ma’am. You’re free to go.”

I didn’t say thank you.

I didn’t even breathe.

“Ms.Carter,Mr.Cole,follow me.” Mr Desmond said.

We followed in silence. The manager didn’t say another word as Victor and I walked behind him down the long, polished hallway that suddenly felt like a tunnel to doom.

He opened Victor’s office and stepped inside first.

“Shut the door,” he said, calm but firm.

I obeyed. Victor didn’t argue either.

Once the door clicked shut, the manager turned to face us.

“We need to clear something up immediately. I’ve asked the tech team to pull the hallway and elevator footage.”

He tapped a few keys on Victor’s desktop computer, waiting for a moment.

But then...

“Error: File Not Found.”

Then again. Error.

Again.

“What the hell…?” he murmured.

He dialed his assistant on speaker.

“Where’s the footage from hallway C and suite floor 7, timestamped between 7 a.m. and 2 p.m.?”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Sir… um, we’re not sure what happened, but the system glitched. It’s the only feed that went dark during that window.”

Silence.

Dead, sharp silence.

The manager slowly placed the phone down.

“Too much of a coincidence,” he said under his breath. “One hallway. One time window. The exact moment a half-naked girl ends up in the bed of the most powerful man in New York.”

Victor cleared his throat and stepped forward like a cowardly rooster.

“I warned you about her,” he said smugly. “From the beginning, I said she was trouble. Poor background. Nothing to lose. It’s obvious she orchestrated this whole thing.”

I flinched.

“You think I did this?” My voice was barely a whisper.

> “You tell me,” Nathan’s personal manager said, finally turning to me. “You were working. You knew who Nathan Blake was. You knew which floor. And conveniently, when no cameras were working, you just happened to end up in his bed.”

I took a shaky step back, heart thudding wildly.

“No! I didn’t! I swear!”

“This is a PR disaster,” he cut in. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? If this gets worse, Nathan could lose major contracts. We’re already trending online. ‘Mystery Hotel Girl’ is going viral. And if this was some pathetic attempt to climb the social ladder...”

“It wasn’t!” I choked out. “I didn’t even know that room was his! I was going to...I just wanted to” My throat closed up. “I wanted an autograph." I said almost inaudibly.

The manager looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“An autograph?”

Before he could retort again, the office door swung wide open with a slam.

We all turned.

Nathan Blake stood there.

Wrinkled shirt. Hair still damp from a rushed shower.

He looked directly at the manager and said...

“I’ll marry her.”

Victor’s jaw dropped. I forgot how to breathe.

“Wait... what?” the manager blinked.

Nathan walked inside, calmly. Like he hadn’t just dropped a social nuke.

“You want to fix the scandal? You want to save the image? Fine. Let’s clean it all up in one move.”

He pointed at me.

“I’ll marry her.”