1

Vanessa Prescott’s bare feet padded across the marble floors toward the living room. Through the archway, she spotted Elliot’s salt-and-pepper hair bent over the coffee table. Her steps slowed. Rather than the stack of real estate listings she’d hoped for, she couldn’t miss the stack of tabloids in her agent’s arms.

“I thought Logan had found something in the Hills.” Vanessa leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Elliot’s rings caught the light as his hands arranged and rearranged the tabloids. “Oh honey, I wish that’s why I was here.” He tapped a perfectly manicured nail against one particularly garish headline. “But we need to discuss your image rehabilitation strategy.”

The magazines screamed up at her in bold text and grainy photos as she entered the room. Two weeks of speculation about Lauren’s indiscretion with that pop star splashed across every cover. Vanessa’s jaw tightened. She’d managed to avoid most of the coverage by holing up in the house, but here it was, invading her sanctuary.

“I don’t need an image rehabilitation. I wasn’t the one caught with someone half my age.”

“No darling, you weren’t. But the industry has a way of painting both parties with the same brush, deserved or not.” Elliot straightened his designer blazer. “And that’s exactly what we need to address.”

Vanessa sank into the cream armchair, her fingers curling around the armrest. Elliot’s hands moved with practiced precision as he arranged another row of glossy magazines beneath the first. Her throat constricted at the new headlines: “Love Blooms: Lauren and Ruby’s Red-Hot Romance” and “Pop Princess Steals Hollywood Star’s Heart.”

“Two weeks.” Elliot’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Just fourteen days, and they’ve managed to spin this into a modern fairytale.”

Two weeks ago, Vanessa had been sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Steam curled gently from her ceramic mug, filling the air with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The Los Angeles Times, still crisp and unopened, lay on the kitchen counter, waiting to be read.

Her phone had buzzed against the countertop.

“Have you seen it?” Elliot’s voice carried an edge she’d never heard before.

“Seen what?”

“Turn your TV on and find any entertainment news channel. Right now.”

The remote control was cool in her palm as she pointed it toward the living room TV. The screen blinked to life, and her world imploded.

Lauren’s midnight blue Armani blazer—the one Vanessa had given her for Christmas—was unmistakable even in the grainy nighttime footage. She was backing one of the most famous women in the world, pop sensation, Ruby, up against the brick wall, their bodies pressed together, Lauren’s fingers tangled in the singer’s signature blond hair. The timestamp read 10:42 PM,last Tuesday. The night Lauren had texted about a meeting that had run late with some executives.

More images flashed across the screen. Lauren and Ruby sharing an intimate dinner. Ducking into the hotel.

The ceramic mug slipped from Vanessa’s grasp, shattering against the floor. Dark liquid splashed across her bare feet, but she didn’t feel the burn. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she took the stairs, her footsteps echoing through their too-quiet house.

Their bedroom—theirbedroom—was still dark, heavy curtains drawn against the morning sun. Lauren lay curled up on her side of the bed, her face peaceful in sleep, as if she hadn’t destroyed everything they’d built over the past decade.

Vanessa grabbed the edge of the comforter. “Get out.” Her voice was ice, breaking the silence.

Lauren’s eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her features for a split second before understanding dawned. “Ness, wait. I can explain?—”

“Get. Out.”

Even now, it was hard to look at the headlines Elliot had spread across the coffee table. Vanessa’s gaze fixed on a photo of Lauren staring at Ruby with unguarded affection - a look she hadn’t seen directed her way in months. Maybe years. The realization hit harder than the betrayal itself.

“The public loves a good romance,” Elliot continued as he smoothed another magazine into place. “And right now, they’re eating this up. Lauren’s team has orchestrated this masterfully. They’ve transformed her from villain to victim of circumstance in record time.”

Vanessa’s fingers pressed against her temples. The headlines swam before her: “Inside Lauren and Ruby’s Whirlwind Romance,” “Hollywood’s Hottest New Couple,” “Love Wins.” Each one more nauseating than the last.

“Which brings me to why I’m really here.” Elliot swept the magazines aside, clearing space on the coffee table. “We need to change the narrative.”

Vanessa’s chest tightened. The last thing she wanted was to play into this media circus. Her private life had already been torn apart and dissected on every entertainment blog from here to New York.

“I’ve got contacts at several major outlets.” Elliot leaned forward, his eyes bright with possibility. “One exclusive interview, carefully placed photos… We can shift the whole story.”

“I don’t have any projects coming up.” Vanessa pulled her knees to her chest, making herself smaller in the oversized armchair. “The Paramount deal fell through last month.”

“Oh darling, I’m not talking about your career.” Elliot’s smile widened. “I’m talking about your love life.”