Page 76 of Dirty As Puck
Derek reclines again, smug satisfaction oozing from his every movement. “Now, why don’t we talk about what you’re really going to do for me?”
We stare quietly at each other, with his evidence scattered on the table, my proof useless, and his revelations cutting far deeper than anything.
My throat feels scraped raw, but I force myself to keep my chin lifted as Derek slides another folder across the table.
I don’t want to touch or even see what else he’s been holding back, but my hands betray me.
The glossy photos spill into my lap, me and Kai caught in moments that feel achingly private even though they were in public. A hand brushing my arm outside the practice facility.
Another image shows his laugh in that quiet corner café and my smile tilted toward him like the whole world disappeared.
Derek’s smirk sharpens. “Cute, right? Lovers caught in the wild. Harmless to you maybe. But to the press? To your editor?” He whistles low. “Scandal on tap.”
My stomach drops. This is no longer about debts and desperation––it’s a game he’s been playing from the start.
“You’ve been following us.” My voice comes out a rasp, barely audible.
“Following? Try orchestrating.” Derek leans back, casual as if we’re discussing the weather. “You think all this happened by accident? Your little interviews. Your cozy exclusives. The public sightings. Every step you’ve taken closer to Kai, I’ve been right there, steering the story for my own benefits.” His eyes sparkle, cruel and certain.
“You’re not his savior, Rochelle. You’re my pawn in this game.”
My stomach clenches. “Why? What do you even get out of this?”
His laugh is sharp enough to cut through me. “Everything––leverage, control and chaos. And the satisfaction of watching a golden boy burn. But don’t worry, I won’t let you walk away empty-handed. I’ll make you famous too.”
Heat floods my face, and rage collides with fear. “You won’t get away with this.”
“I already have.” He flicks another paper toward me, transaction records linking Kai’s payouts to his charity account. My chest seizes as the implication hits. Derek hasn’t just bled Kai for money, he’s touched the one thing Kai cares about most.
“If I hit send,” Derek says softly, almost tenderly, “the world will know. They’ll crucify him. You? You’ll be the journalist who compromised herself for the story. Both of you will be finished.”
Silence presses heavy, broken only by the hum of the coffee machine behind the counter.
My hands shake so badly I shove them under the table. He’s boxed me in from every angle, every path poisoned before I even took a step.
For the first time since this started, I feel the horrible certainty that I’m already too late.
Derek leans in, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. “You really thought you could outplay me? Sweetheart, the game ended the second you walked in here.”
Before I can react, his thumb moves, it’s fast and deliberate. A faint ping from his phone. The smile on his face makes my heart pang, and I understand why in a few minutes.
My phone starts to vibrate, second after second, buzzing nonstop.
I pull my phone from the table, the screen already glowing with notifications, mentions. Emails and alerts.
The first headline stares back at me like a death sentence.
Reporter Rochelle Winters Exposed in Secret Affair with NFL Star Kai Morrison.
Another drops instantly after.
Charity Funds in Question: Morrison Caught in Scandal with Sports Reporter.
The air drains from my lungs. I swipe down, but the flood only worsens. Photos of me and Kai at every glance, every touch, captured from public sidewalks, restaurants, stadium entrances.
Things so small and private to us, now twisted into ammunition.
My hands tremble as I scroll and read. The words start to blur.
