Jessica Alba Leaks Novels & Stories

More certain. More us. And just like that— The cracks didn’t seem so deep anymore. The relief was short-lived. Because the next morning— Jessica stormed into my office, eyes wild. "We have a problem." I shot up from my chair. "What now?" She shoved a tablet in front of me. "Calloway just made his next move." My stomach dropped as I read the headline. "Steele Industries Scandal: Leila Hawke’s Past Under Fire." I exhaled, my fingers tightening around the tablet.

Okay, they sat on a spare chair in the empty room that was supposed to be the office later and we through the book picking good ones and favorites along the way. Alva's phone suddenly rang, she checked it to be her sister and excused herself, "I need to pick this up," "Sure, I'll mark out some by the time you get back," "Okay," She went to the corner and picked up the phone, "Madison what is it?" "Alva, I don't know what to do!" "What do you mean, what happened?" "I went to a party... There is a video that hot leaked an-and—" "What are you saying, I'm not understanding you?"

She was still recovering from the shock of getting a private invitation from Anita Rayne, and now this? “Look,” Anita said with a knowing smile, “I’m not stupid. I know you were the one who leaked those pictures of you and Ethan to the press.” Jessica’s heart skipped. Her smile faltered. “I—what? I didn’t—” “No need to panic.” Anita waved a hand. “I’m not mad about it. If anything, it helped me see that you’re exactly the kind of woman I need in my corner.” Jessica let out a shaky breath, dropping the act. “How did you know?”

James caught Jessica's hand and looked at her, "I came here because I saw the news that you said in the media! Is it true, Jess? Why didn't you tell me before?" Jessica walked towards the sofa in her living room, she started to put on a sad face. Jessica is a smart actress when it comes to things like this. Jessica started to sit down as she lifted her legs up onto the sofa and hugged her legs tightly as if scared. "I-I just don't want you to cancel your collaboration because of me! I know you guys are working on a big project! So I kept it to myself! I-I only found out about it when the video went viral, James! Hik Hik Hik..." while shedding tears of lies.

T*****r spiraled for twelve hours. One user wrote: > “You don’t mess with the DeLucas. They don’t sue. They bury.” --- Back in the apartment, Kennedy dropped a stack of printed screenshots on Alecia’s lap. “Tell me you didn’t know about this.” Alecia looked up, mid-call, phone against her shoulder. “What?” “The leak. The script page. The scene about Val and Lucas. Did you write that? Approve it? Whisper it?” Alecia blinked, took the page, and scanned it.

The morning after Jeremy and Alexandra’s ESPN interview, Denver was a city under siege. The first leak hit social media at 6:12 a.m.: a grainy photo of Jeremy, unconscious at a college party, Sierra Maddox nearby, her hand on his shoulder. Within minutes, more images followed-wild celebrations, blurred faces, Alexandra in the background at a Colorado house party, her jaw set, a red cup in her hand. The captions were merciless: “Colorado’s Golden Boy: The Truth Behind the Mask?”

"Your reputation is trash, but I won't have you tied to a married Jenkins. We deny everything. You were attacked, or it was a misunderstanding. Nothing else." But Freya knew. Someone intercepted the play. "This wasn't bad luck, Vanessa. We were set up." "Alpha Draven, the paparazzi we tipped off are asking if you want the high-res files for your personal records," Graham Cole asked, his tone professional as he drove the Alpha Vehicle through the dark woods. Peter’s gaze was fixed on the moon through the window. "No. Tell them to leak everything to the pack-link immediately. Give them full immunity from the Hale family’s lawyers. I want her name dragged through every mud-pit in the North."

87 missed calls. 14 voicemails. Hundreds of texts. From my manager. My publicist. My assistant. Even my mother, which meant someone had really messed up. I didn’t even have time to open my socials before Julian walked into the room, phone in hand, face pale. “Ethan,” he said, voice tight. “Someone leaked it.” My stomach dropped. “Leaked what?” He turned his screen toward me. A photo. Grainy, but clear enough. Me. Him. Tangled in his sheets. My face soft. His hand on my jaw.

Lisa said and cut the call. My eyes tilted on its axis at her words and my hands were shaking profusely as I quickly clicked on the link in my mail to see what she was talking about. Justin's hands were on my back, patting me to make me calm down because I was sure my blood pressure would measure high if I were to be tested at the time. Jason's gaze was also fixed on me, and I could see how his eyes were laced with concern. My eyes widened in shock when I saw the post and the hashtags used. “THE SECRET LIFE OF DR. CAMILLA WESLEY, THE NEW PRESIDENT OF THE WESLEY GROUP EXPOSED.

A digital footprint that was just waiting to be discovered. And I had just uncovered it. I called my contact. "I need you to leak this," I said, my tone cold and calculated. "To every major news outlet. I want it on the evening news." "Consider it done," he said, before hanging up. I closed my laptop, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. Game on, Lucas. Game on. I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, and was shocked to find Bianca already there. She was wearing an oversized white t shirt, with no bra underneath, her taut nipples were literally poking through her shirt and a pair of small shorts. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun.