I got dressed and returned to my office in time for my lawyer to call me again.

For him to dial my number once in a day was bad; twice signified something truly awful was up.

We knew what that awful thing was: my behavior. My decisions, ruled by my desire; my desire, ruled by Eden.

I hadn't spoken to Mickey on such a frequent basis since the beginning of my career, when he questioned my decision to ally myself with shady sponsors. He wouldn't complain now; he was paid thanks to their involvement in my business. But he never fully forgave me for trying to bend the rules.

"Mickey," I said, failing to leave the annoyance out of my voice. "What is it now?"

"Silver," he said, his stern timbre more annoyed than mine was. "Don't start. And don't use tones. This is serious."

I rolled my eyes, though he couldn't see it.

Mickey and I had worked together more or less since my entry into the industry, fresh out of fashion design school. He'd been a lawyer for one of those seedy investors and came to work for me after I'd reached out to his bosses—he'd wanted to warn me before I entered any agreements.

He pitied me but respected my goals and wanted to help; wanted to take me under his wing.

So he ended up negotiating shady agreements for me.

For a lawyer, he wasn't a bad guy. Married with kids, a fancy house in the L.A. suburbs.

None of his close ones knew the scope of the things he'd done earlier in his career, while helping dangerous men distribute dangerous products and take part in dangerous business deals.

Once I'd hired him, he'd put together a complete legal team for me as the years passed and my success grew.

"I know it's serious, thank you. I'm just fucking tired of it." A yawn broke free from my mouth, to further illustrate my exhaustion.

"I don't want to hear it," said Mickey, with as much—if not more—exasperation in his voice. "You brought this upon yourself, and they're going to be livid about it."

By they, he meant the investors.

We'd had no issues with them until the situation with Noah. But by the time they'd been apprised of the problem, Mickey had managed to snuff it all under the rug and protect everyone involved.

But this situation, with Eden, with her temp agency, with the article...it'd shine a spotlight on me that my anonymous sponsors wouldn't appreciate.

"I'm aware." I gulped. "Seriously, why are you calling me again?" I cringed. "Not trying to sound rude, but hearing from you twice in one day is—"

"Not a good sign, I know." He sighed on the other end, and I imagined him rubbing his forehead, as he usually did when frustrated.

We didn't see each other in person often. He resided in L.A. while a few associates operated for him in NYC. I rarely saw them, either. Since I'd moved here, we'd all expected a smooth transition and for any scandalous details on me to disappear into the wind.

That was, until I hired Eden as my assistant.

"We're having a meeting," he said, and I envisioned him pinching the bridge of his nose, having removed his glasses to wipe off the sweat. "Everyone."

"Everyone?" I stiffened in my chair. "Am I flying out to meet you, or...?"

"A conference call." Something rang on his end—an alarm or a cell phone, I couldn't tell. "My team, your PR team, and one of the guys."

By the guys, he meant one of the shady investors.

"Fuck." I grabbed the armrest of my chair. "They already know?"

"Only one. Pat," said Mickey, strain in his voice. "I trust him to stay reasonable during all this. I had to tell him, Silver. We need to prepare for the worst."

The worst?

What was the worst? I'd lose my status. Money. My penthouse. My staff. I'd lose my company, all my stores. I'd lose friends.

I'd lose Eden. Well, I'd already lost her, in truth, hadn't I?

"Okay," I swallowed, opening up my laptop and logging into our conference call app. "Just send the link and I'll be there."

After he hung up, I waited, hands clenched in my lap. To speak with him and the others over the phone was one thing; to see them, and allow them to see me, would be stressful beyond belief. They'd visualize my reactions, witness my jaw clenching, immediately notice the tension whenever Eden was brought up.

I'd have to tell them the entire story—from start to finish—because not a single person on my team had any clue of my feelings towards Eden. As far as they were concerned, she'd been sent by a reputed temp agency and had been working for me for a few weeks. End of story.

There was so much I'd been keeping from them.

The screen lit up with several small screens, all of them showing the various members of my legal and PR team. Mickey was there, in the middle, adjusting his glasses. I saw Eve, my press agent, sitting rigidly in her chair, arms crossed, trying not to glare at where I imagined she viewed me on her screen.

There were a few others I didn't speak to often, and then—

Pat. I gasped into my hand, pretending to muffle a cough.

Patrick Montgomery. Leader of one of the largest black-market distributors of fine fabrics, among other illegal products. His means of obtaining materials were too shameful to even think about, his money so dirty I felt a tingle in my spine every time someone said his name.

He had no expression on his face, which was good. Preferred. If he turned red or bunched his fists, we'd be in trouble.

But at that moment he was almost serene, unbothered. Strange, for someone with his kind of power. I didn't know him well, but Mickey did, and he'd informed me of all the cues to look out for when interacting with him.

There was another member in the call, one whose screen was blacked out and whose name, Anonymous123, blinked a few times as they were connected.

I knew who they were, and so did Mickey, probably Pat; that was it.

Anonymous123 was my main benefactor; their money positively propelled me to the top. But they weren't part of the same crew as Pat and wanted no association whatsoever with my name. Therefore, even my team didn't know who they were.

I wrinkled my nose. If Mickey had invited them, then this was far more serious than I'd imagined.

"You took risks," said Mickey, after clearing his throat and ensuring everyone was connected. "You know what comes next, I presume?"

"Break things off?" My voice was brittle, more nervous than I'd heard it in a long time.

"Actually," said Anonymous, their voice distorted to protect their identity. "I'd like to understand what happened. How it got to...this."

Pat leaned closer to his screen, his dark eyes wide with wonder. "I agree." His nostrils flared slightly; not a good sign, but not a sign of rage quite yet.

I bit the insides of my cheeks. "You want to know about Eden."

Several individuals nodded their agreement. "Not the details, mind you," added Mickey, looking visibly uncomfortable. "Just the how and why, the where and when."

"She..." I fought for words. How was I to string these sentences together, keep them short and sweet and, hopefully, not put us in further danger? "Eden and I...we had a sort of affair together, before I met her as my assistant."

"A one-night-stand," said Yanic, who'd joined the call a few seconds ago. As my second-in-command, he'd received the invitation.

I hadn't notified him of any of this, which meant he was pissed.

I'd speak with him separately later.

I took a deep breath. "Yes. Then she showed up a few days later, the agency sent her...and it was too complicated to send her back, you know? The papers were signed, the NDA, and she's a New York native, so..."

"The NDA," said Eve, snarling as she shook her head. "Which is about to be exposed in its entirety."

"Not in its entirety," said someone on her team—Clara or Claire or something, I couldn't remember. "Just the most important parts."

How I wanted to snarl right back at them. Eve was normally easy to work with, but she could be quite nosy. Since this had escaped her knowledge, of course she'd be upset.

"You couldn't resist each other," said Mickey, cocking his head, studying me. There was no anger in his gaze, at least; mostly curiosity. "Silver, you should have said something. Warned us. If you were going to go rogue..."

"I didn't plan to go rogue," I said, a tad too ill-tempered. I inhaled, exhaled, steadying my nerves. "Things progressed against our will."

I wouldn't tell them how I was the one who pushed. I was the one whose hunger was always unsatisfied. I cornered Eden, enticed her, set up the rules and then decided to disobey them. It was all me.

"You worked so hard to get here," said Eve, pulling up her phone, scrolling. "And you're throwing it all away for...her?" She looked at me and quirked an eyebrow; she must have stumbled upon Eden's social media accounts. "If you were going to fuck up your reputation, I'd have expected someone prettier."

Rage boiled up under my skin. "Don't you dare presume to talk about her that way."

Pat let out a scoff, and Anonymous whistled, the sound ominous as their voice was still distorted.

"Silver," said Mickey, drawing my attention to him. He was, despite everything, the calmest of all the people on this call. Surprising, since I'd felt him close to losing his cool earlier. "You know how dangerous this is."

"I do."

Flashes of Pat and his buddies came to me; they were cornering me in an alley. Or rushing to the magazine's locale to beat the journalist to a bloody pulp, to threaten her into not releasing the article.

"We don't want this to get out. No more than it already will. Contain it," said Pat, eyes narrowed. Bad sign.

Mickey saw it too and sat up straight in his seat. "It's too late, Pat. We can't stop the article from coming out."

Pat's fist tightened. Fuck, another bad sign. "We don't want to be tied to you, Bell."

He never called me by my first name; he never called anyone by their first name. If he had, that'd have been the ultimate sign of peril.

I blew out a quick breath of relief. "I know."

"You'd better find a way to dull this down and get the focus off you," he said, checking his watch. "I have to disconnect. Mickey, keep me posted. If anything gets out of hand..."

He didn't have to finish his sentence. We all knew the consequences. I'd lose my position, my fortune, my company, and my life would likely be in danger. Possibly Eden's, too.

Pat got off the call, his corner of the screen going black.

Everyone seemed to collectively breathe again. Pat Montgomery's presence, for those who knew his true trade, was heavy. On the outside, he ran a multi-billion online shopping company; behind closed doors, he provided illegal goods for a hefty price, and retaliated when those who bought from him couldn't pay.

I'd bought the ultimate good: fame. And if I showed up in the press and put his black-market business in jeopardy, if anyone dug deep enough...

I gritted my teeth.

"Right, so," started Eve, joining her hands atop her desk. "What do we do now? Mickey, we need a game plan. If this article is coming out for sure, we have to prepare."

"First things first: Silver's image." Mickey removed his glasses and massaged his temples. "With her identity and proclivity out in the open..." I sneered at the word proclivity, but he didn't care. "Things will change. Everything about her image is going to be different. Folk will know what she looks like, and she'll need additional security."

"Noted," said Yanic, who'd remained too silent for my taste, until that moment. "I have a few discreet security companies in mind to keep her safe."

"Safe?" I balked at them. "What, you think I'm physically in danger?"

Mickey balked right back. "Did you hear Pat? You're fucked, Silver. Not only will he come for you if anything goes too far, but the public might, too. You've been relatively lucky, but once one magazine exposes you, all the others will, too."

"Even though they signed deals with us?" I sucked in my lips, sensing my shoulders droop.

"The deals will be voided. They're not as legally binding as I made them seem." Mickey dropped his chin. "It was a ruse to keep them quiet, and they'll figure it out. If they ever gather dirt and pictures of you, they'll release them."

"Can we stop them, realistically?" Eve's expression was concerning. She was young—younger than me—but wise with the ways of the world, very in tune with social media and algorithms and politics.

"I'll try. There's no legitimate way to shut them up, unfortunately. Not without blackmail, which, let's be real, isn't going to work like it used to. And," he peered at me, "you'll run out of money fast."

"Shit," I said under my breath, but I knew they could all hear it. "So...I keep my head down? Or focus on the new clothing lines, the new products? Push the release date up for Silver Silk?"

"Maybe," said Mickey, consulting a manila file he produced out of nowhere. "Keeping your head down might be seen as hiding. And we know they love to come for those they think are hiding."

Eve and her crew hummed in agreement.

"There really is no way to stop this? Or to soften the blow?" I thought of Eden, of her comments. Not that I wanted her to take the full fall with me, but this might give Mickey some other ideas. "Eden offered to speak to the press. To assure them I'm not a predator, that she chose this."

A chorus of "no!" blared through my laptop's speakers.

"Absolutely not," said Mickey, shaking his head so vigorously, it made his screen shake, which made me dizzy. "No, this is your fall to take, Silver. Not hers. She'll be targeted enough as it is, poor girl." He glimpsed a different section of the screen. "We'll need security for her, too."

Yanic nodded. "Already on it." He lifted his phone. "I've been talking with my contacts this whole time."

He never ceased to amaze me with all his skills. I'd have to grovel at his feet and beg forgiveness if I wanted him to use them to my advantage.

"A public apology," said Eve, sitting upright, eyes big and round. "Apologize publicly and move on. Leave that girl out of it, for sure. If she speaks, it'll get even messier, trust me. And it'll dig up dirt on her, too."

I frowned. "There is no dirt on her."

Mickey huffed. "You're wrong." He raised his hand to stop me from interjecting, as he knew I wanted to. "We know all about her family, Silver. Granted, we didn't know about your affair," he used air-quotes, "but we researched her when you hired her."

I arched an eyebrow. "Researched her?"

"Part of my job." Mickey shrugged. "Her family...let's just say if she's seen talking to the press, more so to defend you, they will get involved and that's a problem."

I vaguely remembered her mentioning something about her family members not being good people, but I hadn't looked further into it. It had been the night of the blackout; we'd been too busy, and without power, anyway.

"Better to treat her like a number, Silver," said Eve, in a tone so snobby, it made me wonder if her family came from money, too. "Let the media think she's a no one. A statistic. Another PA, replaceable. She's not representative of your brand, and she doesn't matter."

As much as I wanted to respond, to put Eve in her place, I bit my tongue, held back my true thoughts. Eden was everything to me, but my team didn't care about her. They only cared about me, the one paying them.

My destiny was in my team's hands.

They were the ones with the knowledge of how to clean up the chaos I'd created. Staying away from Eden was crucial for both of us, I knew that.

But did they need to insult her in the process? Insult my feelings for her?

They thought I'd made a mistake, that I'd slipped. But what they didn't know, and wouldn't care to, was that this was real to me. Real to Eden.

We hadn't meant to develop anything beyond a boss-employee relationship, and yet...something developed, nonetheless.

I wouldn't let Eden pay the consequences. It was all on me.

"Fine," I said, running my fingers through my hair. "A public apology, and I'll get on with my life and pray this doesn't fuck us all over."