AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"We're going to take that man down," the District Attorney said. "And this paper is going to help me do just that."
I was curious at first how this was going to happen, but she just looked at me. "You're the reporter that grew up in St. Livy, right?" she asked. I nodded with a startled expression. She'd done her homework. "Alicia Bayer, right?"
I nodded again, too surprised to even speak.
“Alicia is one of our smartest up-and-coming employees," Mike said. "She regularly writes on Page Eight."
I rolled my eyes. I'd just drafted my first draft of a Page Eight piece that morning - about the antics of Prince Blaine, but I guess that meant regularly when talking to the District Attorney. To date, I could count on one hand how many times I'd been allowed to land on Page Eight - but hopefully that luck would change. People in the industry looked to Page Eight as the gold standard for career launch pads – everyone in the newspaper wanted to be there.
"What are you writing about what happened this morning?" Samantha asked me, her eyes sharply descending on me.
"Well," I said taking a deep breath. "I talked to some people. I'm still waiting to hear back..."
If I bring charges against him, he could lose his visa and be deported from the country," Samantha said, cutting me off. "I want you to include that. Tell them you got it from a source."
I gulped. That was a little extreme, wasn't it? I didn't like him at all, but to kick him out?
"Okay," I mumbled and took down some notes.
"But," Samantha continued, not even paying me any attention, "Before I can deport him, we need to really get some dirt on the scumbag," she said.
I was nodding my head. Okay, I could go along with getting dirt.
"We need to get close to him. We need to get into his head," Samantha continued. Both Mike and Danielle were nodding their heads.
"We need to get him to tell us what his dirty laundry is," Samantha spoke, as if in a trance at this point. "The public still loves him to an extent. They think he's a goofy, self-destructively nice guy just because he's handsome. They love to hate him."
I didn't know where this was going just yet, but I waited for Samantha to finish. "We need to show him that he's dangerous to them," she said, getting up out of her chair. "And with public opinion against him, they’ll beg me to press charges against him. And before you know it, bye bye Prince."
Mike and Danielle looked at her and I thought I saw fear in their eyes. She nodded to them one last time before turning around and walking out of the floor towards the elevators.
A part of me was wondering how one District Attorney could tell a newspaper editors and the CEO what to do and walk out in such a fashion. My questions were answered when Mike turned to me.
“If Samantha owns a majority stake in the paper, I don't care what it is, we're going to have to follow her instructions, no matter how difficult."
So that was it. Somehow, Samantha had a financial control over my employment. Not that it mattered. I looked to Mike and Danielle to see what our plan was going to be.
And now, 12 hours later, I cannot believe this is the plan that we came up with.
I'm standing off to the side of a main stage in a strip club called "O". It's apparently owned by Prince Sin himself. By the way, I'm actually a bit proud of myself with coming up with the "Prince Sin" moniker as I was writing the piece today. It's taken off pretty fast, going viral along with the video of him waving his dick in the air and his condom flying around smacking those network men with his...
Okay, focus. Yes, it was actually really uncomfortable to sit and watch his fabulous body at work, and yes, maybe I did watch a couple times. And by couple, maybe I mean I spent a good two or three hours watching the video during breaks. And maybe seeing him fuck that reporter and his devil may care attitude, his perfect Greek-god body, chiseled muscles, and twinkling blue eyes got me a little wet. But j
ust because I get aroused whenever I think of him doesn't make him any less of an asshole, okay? I'm serious. I seriously hate him. He made my early life miserable. When he wasn’t ignoring me.
"You'll be fine, kiddo," Mike is saying, standing next to me. He had called in some contacts and managed to somehow talk to the manager and get me an audition in the last half hour.
"But she's not going to get naked," Mike had told the manager.
"What good is a stripper that doesn't strip?" the manager asked, dumbfounded.
"She just needs an audition," Mike said. "If the Prince comes in, then we'll go on stage, but have the DJ cut the music at the two-minute mark. Let the Prince come to her."
The manager smiled knowingly. "Oh, it's one of those things, is it, Mikey?" he asked with a wink and a nod.
And that's when the Prince walked in. More like stalked in.
I still don't know how Mike managed to wrangle this deal as I think back to the last half hour in this club. I figure that when you work in gossip, you know all kinds of characters.
