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Shaking my head, I respond, “Just take me home, please,” before jumping in the back seat and slamming the door closed behind me. “Tomyapartment,” I correct.
I can’t believe this is happening. I never dreamed I would be the star of some weird porn thing just because I fell in love with Roman.
Crap.
I love him, and this hurts so much. I know it’s not his fault, but this would not be an issue if I hadn’t given in to his desires.
As we pull up in front of the old building—rushing out before Chance can stop me—I don’t see it…them…the reporters waiting outside the building, until cameras are going off and horrendous questions are being slung at me. It only takes a few seconds before I’m swarmed in the middle of the vultures. I can hear Chance shouting, but I just keep pushing my way through and dash upstairs.
The repulsive names they were calling me made me feel like complete crap. I’ve never had so much vile spewed at me before.
Whore.
Slut.
Gold digger.
I’m not any of those things, but I sure feel like it. I feel filthy and gross now. Something that was so special has been turned into absolute hell. If this is a glimpse of what life with Roman will be like, I don’t know if I’m cut out for it. I knew he’d been in the media before because of comments Callie had made, but I didn’t realize it would be like this.
Ignoring Summer and Bunny when I burst through the door, I lock it behind me and rush to my room, throwing myself on my bed. Tears flow, and I shut my phone off before covering up with my blanket. I just need to block the world out for a while.
CHAPTER12
Roman
“That about does it, boss.” Trey, one of my foremen, grins as we wrap the last load of lumber before the predicted storm comes rolling in. “Thanks for helping out today.”
“You got it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Shaking his hand, a crack of thunder rocks the sky as I head towards one of the company trucks and climb in.
Before the key is in the ignition, my phone is ringing, and I see Callie’s name on the screen. “Hey, Cal, what’s up?” I’m pretty sure she should be at work today.
“For Christ’s sake, Roman, answer the damn phone!” She sounds pissed.
“I think I did.” Starting the truck, she cuts out as the Bluetooth connects. “Say that again.”
“Check your fucking messages.” She’s furious. Callie’s not much of a swearer.
“Can’t, driving.” Pulling out of the lot, I nearly slam on the brakes at my sister’s next statement.
“Valentine’s naked body is plastered on every tabloid in the East.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
“Some asshole took photos of you two last night and sold them all over the internet. Valentine was accosted in the restaurant this morning, and Chance told me some reporters basically inundated her at her apartment, and she hasn’t been answering her phone for hours. Roman, she can’t deal with this.” Tears thicken her voice.
“I’ll handle it.” Hanging up before she can say anything else, I call Chance. “Is she still at home?”
“Yes. Reporters won’t fuck off, but I’m not letting them in the building, either.” Thank god he’s a big bastard.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Call the PD, have everyone escorted away from the building, arrest them if you can convince them to. I’m calling my lawyer and publicist. Have you seen the images?” I don’t want to have to kill my friend, but I might if he’s been checking her out.
“Nope. Didn’t want to invade her privacy like that. I like her.”
“Thanks, Chance.” My next call is to my lawyer, who assures me he’s seen it and is already on it. When I tell him I plan to sue every paper and every person who published an article, he pauses before agreeing.
When my publicist answers, she’s already yelling at someone and demanding a press conference in three days to announce our demand for restitution in the form of donations to charities of Valentine’s choosing within seven days of the article’s printing. She’s also explained that she’s hired someone to wipe the images as best they can.
“Tell me about this girl, Roman. Does she volunteer at shelters? Walk puppies? Kick puppies? I need the good and the bad.”
