Romans & histoires Brooklyn Decker Leaked

My chest tightened, but the silence gave no answers. Then my phone rang, startling me. Lucas. “Hey, girl—” “Lucas, it’s late. Why are you calling me now?” “I just landed in New York. And… you’re trending.” “What?” “Check the news.” I ended the call in a rush and pulled up the headlines. IDENTITY OF SECRET MODEL EXPOSED: OLIVIA LANCASTER REVEALED AS THE FACE BEHIND THE MASKED MODEL. My breath caught. My pulse thundered in my ears as I scrolled down. Photos everywhere—backstage shots, private fittings, moments I didn’t even know were captured. Someone had leaked everything.

“I’ll be back soon.” “My phone, Jaden.” She held out her hand. I pulled it from my pocket and gave it to her. “I’ll see you soon.” Then I walked out before I changed my mind and stayed, which I couldn’t afford to do right now. The moment the door closed behind me, I yanked my phone out. Derek’s name flashed across the screen. Fuck. I ignored him and went straight to the news. A Lot of headlines where already making waves. JADEN ASTOR SPOTTED WITH SECRET WOMAN — IS THE CEO HIDING A SCANDAL?

I said, finally letting myself smile as I slid onto the plush leather seat next to Jenna. "Well, your mom is doing great, and Arthur Vance is doing terrible," Jenna laughed, sliding a drink toward me. "I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to celebrate. I still can't believe the news this morning. My whole office is talking about it!" Oh my God, Chelsea is so loose lipped. "Seriously," Cherry added, leaning in close so I could hear her over the DJ's transition. "Everyone is wondering who leaked those photos to the press. The timing was just too perfect."

Kyle rushed through his morning meetings and tidied up some stuff so that he wouldn't have to be back for a long time. He couldn't wait to get back to his little pain in the ass, princess. He touched his inside jacket pocket to make sure the box from Harry Winston was there and patted the packages on the seat next to him.

Her kiss was soft, desperate, and I held her tight, needing her to feel my vow. Daniel called, his voice tense. “The board’s panicking,” he said. “Stocks are crashing, but the USB leak is hurting Maddox more.” My heart lifted, hope flaring, but Ivy’s grip tightened, another contraction hitting. “Focus on us,” she whispered, her voice weak but fierce, her eyes locked on mine. “Please.” I nodded, kissing her knuckles, her ring a promise, my love for her burning. Claire’s voice crackled through my phone. “Ivy’s Atelier is trending,” she said, her tone urgent. “The leaked designs are selling out—fans are fighting back.”

"Oh baby, it's no wonder you don't know what's going on on social media." Lea was confused. "Hm? What's the news?" Jayden opened the I*******m and Twitter applications for Eternal Entertainment. The most recent photo posted was of Lea on the runway, with her eyes covered by a black line and the caption in large letters, "Lea Wore Fake".

“And Dylan Voss? What a spineless prick. Left his bride for that?” The words flew like knives—sharp, public, amd merciless. Guests pulled out phones, recording the screen, recording each other’s reactions, recording Helene’s and Dylan’s absence like vultures circling a fresh kill. Socialites whispered behind diamond-crusted hands; billionaires shook their heads in open disdain; fashion executives exchanged disgusting glances. And then, the phones began to buzz. Notifications exploded across the room like gunfire. Within seconds, the footage had leaked. It was everywhere.

Before I can answer, the elevator to the penthouse pings open behind us. Kevin rushes out, drenched, panting, tie crooked, phone in hand. “Sir—Hailey—don’t get mad but—there’s been another leak.” Hailey gasps. “What?” Kevin swallows hard. “It’s… bigger this time.” Ethan’s voice is pure ice. “How big.” Kevin lifts the phone, screen glowing blue with horror. “Someone leaked a video,” he says. “From inside the company.” Hailey’s face pales.

“Ma’am! Oh my god, Mrs Myla, please tell me you are looking at your phone right now!” The frantic, breathless voice of Myla’s operations manager, Chloe, exploded through the speaker the second Myla pressed the accept button. Myla rubbed her eyes, blinking against the early afternoon light spilling through the bedroom windows. It had been three days since the nightclub photo of Hayden, Jared, and Beck had leaked, and they had chosen to handle it the same way they’d handled the first leak. Silence.

she said, hesitating. Thersa took the phone, brows furrowed and her eyes widened as the screen loaded a headline from one of the city’s top fashion blogs: “Mock Couture? Diana Calls ‘Up-and-Coming’ Designer’s Work a Cultural Costume Disaster!” Beneath the headline was a blurry photo, but clearly taken inside a studio. It was one of Thersa’s unfinished designs… Thersa’s lips parted, but no words came out. Who took that photo? How did it leak?