Page 40 of Billionaire's Second Chance

"Winston Burrows," he frowned.

Great. She hired a lawyer with a proven record in cases against Hollywood giants. Some other lawyer might back down easy for an out-of-court settlement, but Winston would milk us as much as he could.

“What if we chase it down the courtroom?” I pondered.

“That would be the road to avoid. It's rare for men like you to leave that courtroom victorious." Robert smirked. "Even though your name also suffered in the backlash."

"Men like me, huh?" I shot a death stare his way.

"Well, yea, your reputation precedes you, Damon. Don't shoot the messenger." Robert responded, serving me a dish of brutal honesty.

I bit my lip and stared out his window.

Social Media sharks would swarm closer at the smell of blood. They’d snap at every bit of juicy gossip they could lay their hands on until I was nothing but a carcass of gossip and stories appearing on every search engine.

“Harry says the blogs are already snooping around. Someone could drop a story on the case any time now,” I contemplated.

“Winston would have all the bloggers in the courtroom if he could. He'd be happy to provide all the extra publicity for his client," Robert confirmed.

Lily Rae wasn’t doing this for the publicity. She wanted revenge. She was out to taste my blood, not pull some PR stunt and get famous behind it.

"Five million," I declared. "Let's start with that."

“I’ll reach out to Winston," Robert assured me. "Maybe for the right amount, his client should agree to a full NDA and an out-of-court settlement.”

I hoped so.

“Do you know who might have leaked your pictures to the blogs?" Robert blurted as I was getting ready to leave. "We can go after them if you'd like?"

I paused. Ava had confessed to me the other day, but I couldn't blame her. Standing in Roberts's office, I knew I'd do the right thing this time and reap the consequences of my actions.

“I have no idea, Robert,” I announced. “Hungry paparazzi, I guess.”

With that, I shook his hand and exited the office.

***

On the drive to the movie set, I couldn't stop thinking about my reaction to Ava's confession. My own calmness and acceptance shocked me. In any other circumstance, I would have lashed out and punished the person responsible for this PR chaos. But not now. What was different? Was I getting used to being Hollywood's Playboy? Or was Ava's presence clouding my judgment?

I reached for my phone on the dashboard and dialed Quinn’s number.

“Please tell me you’re not at my doorstep,” she answered in a raspy voice.

“Are you drunk?” I mocked her.

She scoffed. Chairs scraped the floor, followed by a dull thud. “No, but I do have a headache from last night. What's up? Fighting with Dad again?”

“No. But I will soon. Something is brewing,” I confessed.

“Got your lead pregnant?” Quinn let out her annoying, sarcastic laugh.

A vivid image of pregnant Ava flashed in my mind’s eyes. “No. That would be the end of me.”

“That's a relief. So, what have you done this time?” She insisted.

“Lily is pressing charges,” I frowned.

“Your ex-girlfriend?" Quinn squealed in my ear. "Damon, when are you going to start thinking with your head? You're forty-five and still have no idea how to keep it in your pants?”

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