Page 31 of Reckless Temptation

Sabrina wasn’t mine.

If this stunt could ruin her reputation, if this would be a harder hit in a smear campaign against her, that would be a show of faith in the stupid ultimatum Tiffany had given me.

Do it for Mom.

I couldn’t risk George finding out about her infidelity. I couldn’t risk Mom and I losing our home and money. She’d never get help with her depression if it were just me and her.

“Yeah.” I shrugged, glancing at Daniela. “Go ahead. Share it.”

11

SABRINA

Iwoke up Monday morning wishing I could sleep in a little longer. It was too early to get up after helping my parents fix up more things around the house all weekend. Plus studying and dealing with things for my community pool fundraiser, then prepping for the internship interview.

My body was sore and tired. This was what burn-out felt like.

As I lay in bed at the sound of my phone going off, I knew it would be an exhausting start to the week.

I could count on lots of assignments. Tons of reading. And the bus was out this week for maintenance, so with my parents using the only car we had, I’d be walking more than usual.

Is it even worth it?

I hated to question myself like this when the times got tough. Law school was challenging, but I wondered from time to time whether putting myself through it at the university was smart. I could always transfer to a different school and lower my expectations. I could bow out of this internship application and just focus on graduating with a law degree.

No. It’s got to be worth it.

I sighed as I reached for my phone.

Seeing the texts from Elise startled me. And as I sat up and skimmed through the damage, I knew my initial worries about this week being tough were a joke.

Facing the backlash from supposedly posing for Nick would be harder to handle. Some artsy person had shared photos of a painting that jerk had done ofme. In such a provocative and naughty pose, leaning back like I was encouraging him to go down on me.

I was a virgin, but not a prude. Still, seeing myself likethiswas a new low, even from him. He’d pushed it too far by suggesting I’d been in a wet T-shirt contest. Now this?

“You fucking asshole,” I whispered as I scrolled on my phone. Elise had alerted me that the videos were going viral. She lurked on social media more than I did, and I appreciated her giving me a warning about the new attack on my character.

But one thing remained unchanged. I didn’t have time for this.

With more anger than I wanted to have this early in the morning, I got up to shower and head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast.

“Sabrina?” My mom raised her brows when she spotted me. She stood at the stove, finishing eggs for us. Dad frowned from his seat at the table.

“You saw?” I guessed, preferring to be upfront than beat around the bush. They weren’t avid users of social media either, but they had their interests they liked to follow. Dad was on his phone often to follow pages about home reconstruction, and he’d savedlots of money by watching videos of how to DIY repairs around here. Since I’d been tagged in those posts, they had to have seen.

“How could you?” Mom asked, wincing.

They’d never raised me to be prudish. Both of them taught me to respect and love myself. But they’d also never given me the impression that being so exposed like that was a good idea—not if I wanted to have a good job.

“I didn’t,” I said as I sat.

I would weather this storm. As I sighed and looked at the home repairs that were halfway done, I knew that I could face this personal storm, too. “I have no interest in posing for any artist. Certainly not like that.”

“Then is this”—Dad picked up his phone to frown at the screen as he read—“Daniela Critiqueslandering you?” He scowled. “Is this one of those AI things? Someone’s using your face and superimposing it on…” He shook his head and set his phone down, not finishing.

“No. I think that, um, guy really painted it.” I cleared my throat, willing the humiliation to stay locked in. “The video Elise sent me shows his hand as he painted.”

“Who is this artist?” Mom propped her hand on her hip. “This isn’t right. It’s… it’s slander. It’s wrong and it’s cruel to suggest you’d be so… so crass and unclassy like that!”

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