My Front Page Story Novels & Stories

“Wait… you said the front page?” “Front page, top,” Cynthia says. “Congratulations, you might have had to gone incognito to do it, but you’ve made the big time.” Scrambling, I click her on speakerphone so that I can open the mobile internet and search for Harbinger News Company. Cynthia wasn’t exaggerating. My opinion article is right there on top. It’s already tracked thousands of views, even at 5:30 am. It has hundreds of comments. “The comments agree with you, by the way,” Cynthia says. “Miles is all the rage right now. Anyone who’s anyone seems to be backing him.”

Nick Henderson, Connor's assistant, exclaimed over the phone, "Something terrible has happened, Mr. Shaw! Quick! Check the latest headlines!" Connor pulled up the browser and saw his name topping the list of viral searches. When he clicked on the first link, his breath halted. He was greeted by a video of him doing the deed with Sylvie in front of the altar. There was an uproar in the comments. "I thought everyone said Connor Shaw was a religious man who took a vow of celibacy? Why would he do something like that in front of the altar?" "Goodness me! Here I was thinking that Connor Shaw was saving himself for Anna Larson. Guess you can never trust the image these people from wealthy families

Ava’s POV The newsroom was unnervingly quiet for a Monday morning. Phones still rang, keys still clicked, but something about the air felt different—like people had inhaled at once and were waiting to see what would happen next. My piece—the feature on Ethan—wasn’t just buried on the sports page. It was everywhere. On the front page of the print edition, splashed across the website’s banner, clipped and shared on social media faster than I could refresh.

It made us sound like a speed bump. I bought the magazine, my hands trembling with a quiet rage I hadn’t felt even at the height of the fight. I showed it to Arthur that evening. He read it, his expression unreadable. Then he handed it back. “So he wins the narrative after all. Even in retreat, he controls the story.” “We have to tell our own,” I said, the words coming out with a force that surprised me. “Not for them. Not for a board or a magazine. For us. For the town. For anyone who thinks fighting is futile. We have to tell the real story.”

“We don’t issue denials. We don’t let Ryan Cole control the narrative.” “You tell your story first. On your terms. Tonight if possible.” “Tonight,” I repeated. “I have a contact at City Arts,” she said. “Claire Danes. She broke the feature. She’ll run a follow up immediately if you give her the story first.” I looked at Grayson. “Your call too,” I said. “This is your reputation.” “It’s our story,” he said simply. “We tell it.”

I just exhaled in a way that my shoulders went so relaxed and Hannah made a grimace of victory. “Come on, we have to be at the Devilish Ink in about an hour,” she added, sipping the last gulp of coffee. “Just let me grab my bag and my keys” I almost begged, dragging my feet to the door. The drive to the tabloid Devilish Ink was so quiet that I thought at some point I was hearing my own thoughts. A story cover of the tumultuous life of the one and only Pierre Trottier. How in the world did I get into this position? I had so many cover stories by now, but this one was different. So different that my heart skipped a beat just to think of the importance of this story.

Now I just had to wait until the right time to rid her of the baggage she’d just claimed. My dear readers, thank you for reading and supporting this story. I hope you enjoyed it so far. I’ll appreciate it if you explore my other stories as well. Please follow my f******k page Jane above story and group Jane above story if you wanna chat with others or keep updated on my writing schedule. Yours，Jane above story

Well sort of. “And you happened to make the front page on your first day here.” She adds, glancing at her laptop, avoiding my stare. “But better not to look at the text and the comments, it won’t do you any good.” Too late for that, I was half way through the so-called Friday News Alert story and boy they did not spare the effort in mudslinging me. It should have devastated me more, but I’m actually not moved. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oliver POV:

Evelyn had been about to go to bed after freshening up. Just as she finished drying her hair, someone knocked on her door. She froze for a moment, then instinctively opened it. Standing at the door, Sophie pressed her lips tightly together, her usually relaxed expression uncharacteristically serious. "Evelyn, you're trending on the domestic hot search." As she spoke, she handed her phone to Evelyn. On the screen, several trending topics had Matteo's name in them. One of them stood out.

And in the middle was me. My phone buzzed in my hand. One notification. One message. Two words. “Published. Frontpage.”