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“Quite thoroughly,” Zayn assures him.
Seeing this as an opportunity, the man ventures, confidence in his voice. “So, would you care to comment on the attack on your girlfriend’s property?”
So suddenly I am moved from ‘whore’ to ‘girlfriend.’
The warning grip from the hand wrapped around my hip makes me swallow the words that I am about to spit out.
“Unfortunately not, Mr. Donavon. I would ask you to stop writing about Miss Taylor. You’re making it very uncomfortable for me to maintain a relationship with you demanding to be part of it.”
To Frank’s credit, he doesn’t look ashamed.
“Part of the job, Mr. Wolfe.”
Why is this starting to sound like a casual conversation over a cup of fucking tea?
Annoyed, my own fury rising in tempo, I carefully keep my face blank and step down on Zayn’s foot.
He doesn’t so much as wince.
Stunning blue eyes turn towards me and give me a cool look before focusing on the man in front of us.
“What did you think of my articles, Miss Taylor?”
I blink at the reporter, stunned at his fucking nerve.
My mouth opens, and I heard Zayn murmur in my ear, a warning. “Careful, Eve.”
I smile. “Pure and utter trash. If I want garbage, I will have just dig in the bins outside.”
Frank’s face turns white before red starts creeping up his neck, the sudden hurt transforming into a sneer. “I wouldn’t be so careless with my words, Miss Taylor. After all, it’s your story I’m telling the world.”
Despite the warning grip on me and Zayn’s obvious displeasure, I wag my finger at him with an easy smile. “How many times have you been sued for libel again, Frank?”
The flash of hatred in his eyes doesn’t faze me.
“Let’s go, Eve. We’re done here.” Zayn nods to a fuming Frank and drags me away.
My tongue is ready to strip away a layer of Zayn’s skin if he dares to reprimand me for what just happened but he doesn’t utter a word.
I glare at him, and he pretends to ignore it.
I am quickly distracted though at the sight of Dina, who wears a look of relief on her face.
I sigh.
Time to open Pandora’s box.
Lorraine doesn’t remember much from the night.
She remembers our interaction.
Her wrists should have ached from the way she had furiously scribbled on the pad.
A woman’s voice.
She heard a woman’s voice, and she saw a slender figure standing in one of the classrooms she thought to be locked, shrouded in darkness.
And after that point, she remembers nothing.
