Chapter 7

After getting discharged from the hospital and coming home, Rosalie started sorting through her things. She needed to pack up before she left.

The cardboard boxes were filled with years of memories. She had written Brandon 101 love letters, pouring her heart out to him. In return, he'd only ever sent three replies, but she had cherished every single one.

And then there was the saint pendant he'd given her. She'd once mentioned how much she loved the one he wore, and though he wouldn't part with his own, he had a matching one made just for her. Sure, hers was smaller, but just wearing a pendant like his had made her happy back then.

Now, though, she knew the truth. He was only wearing his for Nina's sake. And Rosalie wanted no part of it.

"You're throwing out the saint pendant I gave you?"

Brandon's voice snapped Rosalie out of her thoughts.

She looked up, startled. She hadn't even heard him come in. Now, he stood there with furrowed brows, staring at the cardboard boxes she'd been filling with discarded things.

"I don't want it," Rosalie said flatly.

"Why?" A flicker of surprise crossed his face as he took a step closer. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"

Rosalie let out a hollow laugh. Of course, he had no idea why she was upset. His attention had always been fixed on Nina. As for Rosalie? She was just a useful smokescreen for what he really had with Nina.

"Rosalie, you're not a kid anymore. Stop getting worked up over nothing." Brandon sat down beside her. "You can't just throw these away. I gave them to you. You should take care of them. I'll get you new ones if you don't like them anymore. We can go pick out different ones right now."

This was just like him. Worried that his precious smokescreen might disappear, he'd throw her scraps of affection now and then, just enough to keep her hooked. And every time, Rosalie had taken them, savoring them. Even now, she hesitated.

Just then, Brandon's secretary, Trent Crowley, burst into the room, frantic. "Mr. Searle, something terrible has happened! It's about Ms. Monroe!"

Photos from Nina's private party had been leaked online. They showed her half-dressed and pressed up against a group of male escorts. She was even sitting on one's lap in some of the photos. Her behavior was shockingly inappropriate.

Brandon stared at the photos, shock and anger coursing through him until his phone rang.

It was Nina, her voice choked with tears. "Brandon, those photos aren't what they seem. Someone drugged me. This was all a setup by our rivals! I swear, I didn't do any of this!"

With just a few words, Brandon believed her.

She had been drugged. There was nothing she could've done. But now, he was left cleaning up her mess. The photos had already spread too far to be pulled back.

After a brief pause, Brandon turned to Rosalie. "I'll hold a press conference. You'll take the blame for Nina. We'll say it's you in the photos. That should clear her name."

Rosalie went still, and her voice cracked with disbelief. "Nina's reputation matters, but mine is disposable?"

Brandon frowned. "My dad hasn't even been gone that long. If this gets out, it won't just ruin her reputation. It'll damage the Searles' reputation too. But you're different. You don't have to worry about status. A quick statement from you is all it'd take to stop the bad press."

"But I'm a Lardner! Doing this will destroy my parents' reputation!"

Brandon barely let her finish. "Do this for me, and I'll make it up to you. Rosalie, trust me. We'll have a good life together."

Without another word, he shot Trent a sharp look.

Trent called the guards. They gripped Rosalie by the shoulders, escorting her to the press conference venue against her will.