The paparazzi

Violet

The very next day, following the previous night, Greg and I go over my project and I begin working on it. Greg didn’t breathe a word about my resignation, as if I didn’t submit one. 

Aion Soft welcomes Verity Coleman, Ethan’s mother, today. Verity is quite the picky type. I'm in the lobby when she arrives.

She approaches me and appoints me as her aide until the rescheduled extraordinary meeting commences.

I am standing some steps across from the table in her office with my hands clasped in front of me. Verity is hard to resist staring at. She is one of Aion Soft’s shareholders and has an office in the building.

She drapes her coat over her executive chair.

Ethan got his eyes from his mother. Verify is a strong and beautiful blonde woman with the prettiest smile. Her gait is graceful. She radiates confidence and charisma. She’s not one to be trifled with.

“Do you know why I chose you, of all people?” She takes her cup of coffee from the desk.

“No, Mrs. Coleman.”

“You remind me of someone.”

I chuckle softly. “A schoolmate?”

She waves dismissively with an ‘of course not’ smile. “No.” She sips her coffee, her demeanor taking an all-but gloomy dive. “That girl almost took my boy away from me. My son was young and foolish, I know.”

If I string her words together correctly… I am that girl. Rumors had it that Ethan tried to do himself in after our breakup.

My spirit tumbles to my toes, but I file away the feelings. “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze lingers on me, and I try to hide my unease. She takes another sip before lowering the cup to hold it in both hands. “You look a lot like her.” 

Emphasis on the ‘a lot’.

“What’s your name?”

My self-control snaps. I don’t realize that I'm fidgeting with my hands. My thoughts go all over the place. I can’t possibly cook up a lie. My silence is giving me away.

Her gaze stays on my ID. “Violet Sinclair.” She looks up at my face, which I’m sure is now blanched with fear. “It’s really you.”

Our eyes meet, hers impassive, mine unnerved, both relaying different messages. She steps forward. “Not sure if it’s a coincidence you’re working here, or you're here to manipulate my son and intertwine him in your evil plans, but I’ll advise you.”

She gently places a hand over my shoulder. 

“You’re a beautiful young lady. A lot of men will kill to have you. Go to them and leave my son out of your dirty game.”

She gives me a smile, which, of course, is a front. “Off you go. Those tasks won’t do themselves.”

Tense to my bones, the blood in my veins running cold, I turn on my heels and hastily walk into the corridor, taking the route that leads to my office.

Once in the office, I lower myself into the chair in my cubicle. With a sigh, I lean my head in the palms of my hands, leaning on the table with my elbows.

I wish my wedding with Pete could happen today. That way Verity will know I want nothing to do with her son.

With another sigh, I boot my system to start the data entry task assigned to me, hoping to round up before five o’clock.

The sound of a handful of footsteps and moving cars collide in a quiet buzz of activities in the below-grade lot. It’s six o’clock. Workers are returning to their homes.

Greg and I are heading to the place where his car is parked. His pace is hard to keep up with, but I still try.

“What’s the employee performance review?”

“So far, it couldn’t be any better. The rate of employee turnover decreased by 95% since January.”

“Good.”

Greg goes all out to make sure his team members are worth their salt.

He grabs the door handle of his car, and with a smooth click, the door swings open, but he leaves it ajar, resting a crooked arm on it as he stares at me.

“You take your orientation sessions seriously, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He intends to get into his car but pauses. “And keep that smile on. Could earn us some good deals.”

We exchange a smile before he gets into the car and starts the engine.

“Have a good night.”

Greg drives out of the spot, and the figure that comes into sight steals the smile from my face. Ethan had parked his Ferrari next to Greg’s car and was getting out when our eyes met. Fear freezes me in place. My breath hitches. The absence of people in the below-grade sets a horrifying mood.

I summon some courage to walk off.

Only turning to do that, his voice, cold and patronizing, stops me dead,

“The way you people look at each other. Is he shifting your underwear already?”

Irritation courses through my veins, contorting my countenance. I turn back to him. “Greg is my supervisor. He cares for me like he cares for everybody else in the department, and I’m not taking advantage of that.”

I try to come out calm, even as emotions tinge my voice.

His countenance takes a grisly dive, his gaze turning black. “Coming from a slut.” Each collective step brings him closer to me, his brow crinkling in anger. “How dare you look at Greg like that?”

“I have a fiance, and I love—”

“Finish that sentence, and you’re dead.”

Ethan doesn’t look to me like he’s in his right mind.

I turn to run, but it seems like he knows my next move before I even execute it. In a fluid, deft move, he lunges closer and gathers my hair in a tight fist as yanks me sharply and slams my back against his car.

He presses against me, holding my hair against the car in a vice-like grip. Any attempt to break free and I might lose a bunch of hair, so I retire to clawing and pulling at his hand. But it seems he loves pain, and my struggle gives him satisfaction.

Panic enfolds me, and I hyperventilate, sadness clawing so hard at my insides. “Leave me alone, Ethan, please,” I sob in panic.

“I can’t fucking stand seeing you walk past me without getting my hands on you,” he grits out. His eyes are bloodshot.

His other hand cups my breast, squeezing. When the humiliation becomes unbearable, I can't help but fight harder, but my attempt to claw at his face only tightens his grip on my hair to make me stop.

“Revenge is a dish best served cold, Vio. It can’t be cold enough when I’m not touching you. Kissing you.”

My body bristles with a shiver as I feel his tongue lave the curve of my neck, reaching up. “You’re mine, Vio. All mine.” His mouth crashes against mine, but I won’t yield.

I am rather unresponsive. I cinch my lips tightly, swiveling my head side to side, but he grabs my face to steady my head, his lips pressing further against me.

A staccato burst of camera shutters clicking in rapid succession echoes through the scene, instantly rousing an awareness among us and our heads swivel toward the shutter sounds.

I tense up with terror, gaping at the paparazzi resolutely capturing the moment of my downfall. Shame overwhelms me, leaving me wishing I could disappear.

A plethora of them rush to us, the horde of paparazzi bombarding us with a thousand questions, but I try to grasp a few.

“What is she to you?”

“Are you aware your act goes against your company policies?”

“Who is she?”

“What now happens to Lucia Campbell?”

I relax a bit when I spot a familiar man and five security men bursting into the throng of jostling paparazzi. Ethan grabs my hand and I feel a strange sense of safety course through me. With some guards paving our way, the man and the rest of the security team are leading us through the throng.

It’s difficult still, as the throng jostles us, their voices flooding the atmosphere. I came to Manhattan to hide and escape from my troubles, but somehow I’ve drawn the world into my tiny space.

Once in the office, Ethan tosses my hand away and steps towards the glass wall, running his hands from his head down his face, cussing. I can feel the rage radiating from him. It burns my skin.

His image and his career are teetering on the precipice of disaster. But the last time I check, I stand to lose the most. My job, my career, my dignity.

A call warbles his phone, tearing the awkward silence that hangs over us. He picks up, taking the phone to his ear.

“I want to go home,” I say as soon as he gets off the call and drops his hand at his side in frustration.

The caller could’ve said something unfavorable, which I’m not interested in knowing what it was. All I want is to run home and cry over my terrible downfall. 

He walks over to me, hands in the pockets of his suit pants as he stares at me, his eyes aflame. “You should do that. Take as much break as you want, because you’re about to play a role that requires you in full strength.”

I squint in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Which part of it do you not understand? The part where you’ve lost your job or… the part where you’re about to become Ethan Coleman’s wife.”

His latter words send chills through me, nearly sweeping me off my feet, but I adjust my stance to steady myself. Tongue-tied and dazed, I gaze into his eyes, searching for the slightest hint of lies in them. There is only honesty and gravity.

I shake my head, refusing to believe it. “That’s not gonna happen.” Marrying Ethan will be the end of me.

“Says who? You have an image to protect, and so do I.”

“I had an image until you fouled it. Ethan, I won’t marry you, no matter what.”

“It’s not a thing of choice, Violet. Either you marry me, or… you marry me. Oh, come on, Violet, it’s just a three-month contract,” he yells his latter words with so much rage the veins in his neck pop.

Three months of fucking misery! I’ll die the very day I become his wife.

“I have a fiance and nothing can make me leave Peter. Not even you.”

“You say that like a mantra and it makes me sick. Stop pretending this marriage isn’t as important to you as it is to me. I mean, the money, the fame. Whores like the sound of that.”

That degrading name breaks me inside.

“Besides, nobody said you have a choice in this. It’s a do-or-die affair. Reject the offer and you won’t go down alone. You’ll take your family with you.”

My family?

“I'll have my driver take you home. I’ll call you when the papers are ready.”

“Are you including my family in this?”

“Since you decided to be stubborn, yes. Save your strength, Violet. In five days, you’re going to need all the strength you can get.”