Betsy stood with her hands held out to her sides and drew in deep calming breaths. She could still feel the heat of the spotlights and the dampness which had formed on her palms during the interview. She didn't understand it. How did anyone get used to it? The lights, the attention, and the pressure.

The novelty had quickly worn off as there was one part she really didn't like.

She no longer felt as if she was her own person. It was as if by being a 'celebrity', her body had become the property of everyone around her. She had been poked, prodded, and manhandled by so many different people during her time at the television station, she couldn't help but feel violated. To further iterate her point, rough hands roved under her top, lingering in certain places a bit too long as the technician removed the microphone pack. When he finally detached it, the man stood back and frowned as if disappointed it was over.

Betsy on the other hand couldn't be more relieved.

Stepping away from him, she wrapped her arms protectively over her stomach. She forced herself to look him in the face. To meet the watery blue eyes in a young pointed face. A flush formed on his cheeks and he dropped his gaze first, backing away and grumbling as he went.

"He's a creep, I know. I've already reported him but nothing ever seems to stick." A young woman said solemnly, a clip board held to her chest. "Rumour has it that he related to one of the board members. It makes him untouchable." The woman stepped to the side and gestured to the waiting doorway. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the dressing room so you can collect your things and then you can sign out. I'll have security escort you to your car. It appears you've drawn quite the crowd outside."

"A crowd?" Betsy asked, a frown forming on her brows.

The woman's dark eyes twinkled. "Only a small one. About two hundred people."

"Two hundred people is a small crowd?" She sighed and shook her head. "Are you sure they're here for me."

"Yes, they're here for you. I'll get the make-up artist to do a touch up before you leave. Best to be camera ready before you meet your adoring fans."

"I really think there has been some kind of mistake here. Why would anyone want to stand out in the rain for me?"

The taller woman opened the door to the dressing room and smiled kindly. "You're a normal person who is dating the man everyone wants to date. You're the person people women want to be right now. You should probably get used to it."

With wide eyes, Betsy shook her head. "I don't think it's something I will ever get used to."

The corridors passed in a series of neutral coloured walls broken up by the occasional photograph of a celebrity or TV station regulars. Many of them were people Betsy had watched on television over the years and it felt surreal that was walking the very same halls that they did. She received nods in greeting as she passed several of them on her way back to normality.

"That was –."

"I know. It does take some getting used to. But they're normal people – mostly."

Dazed, Betsy just shook her head. It didn't feel real. She barely noticed as more powder was applied to her face, or how she was shuttled down hallway after hallway. She only noticed she had left the building when cool raindrops fell against her skin and she was hit by the barrage of noise from the waiting crowd.

"Elizabeth. Over here!"

"Ms Jones. Is it true Nicholas has proposed?"

"Elizabeth, is there truth behind the rumours? Are you pregnant?"

"Is it true you cheated on your husband with Nicholas Davenport?"

Betsy blinked at the crowds, turning on the spot as she tried to find a friendly face in the sea of vultures. Bright lights started to flash as the recording devices were swiftly replaced by dozens of camera lens being thrust in front of her face.

Nick's faithful security team put themselves between her and the cameras, using their bodies to provide as much protection as possible. Betsy allowed them to take control, hiding her shaking hands in the pockets of her coat as she turned her attention to the much calmer reception on the other side of the metal barriers.

Betsy nodded her head in greeting at the waiting people. "Elizabeth, over here."

A woman waved her hands before holding out a brightly coloured bouquet of flowers. Glancing back once at the men who was expertly forcing back the paparazzi, Betsy wandered over.

"These are for you." The woman stated, holding out the cellophane shrouded flowers.

"They're beautiful," Betsy complimented, accepting the flowers with a grin. "They're actually my favourites. I always loved Daisies. Thank you."

"I just think you're so brave to tell your story. It's good to know we're not alone." The woman swiped at the tear as it rolled down her cheek. "You're a good girl."

Betsy swallowed to clear her throat before smiling shakily. "I don't feel brave. I'm just being me."

The woman just patted her arm in consolation before she moved away from the barrier.

"Elizabeth!" Her name seemed to be chanted over and over again, her attention being pulled from side to side. There were several men in the crowd, several of whom offered her pieces of paper with their digits scrawled across, but the majority of them were women.

A red head waved, her white teeth shining brightly as she beckoned Betsy closer. She held out her phone. "Do you mind if I get a photo of us?"

"You want a photo with me?"

The woman nodded enthusiastically before holding her phone out. Betsy, still feeling as if she was living in some sort of dream world, stepped up to the railings and then turned so that she could smile into the camera. Her face stared back at her, an awkward self-conscious smile on her lips as she leaned in close the red head.

"Nick isn't who you think he is." The woman spoke into her ear.

Betsy frowned as the photo was captured, her face frozen in that single moment of confusion.

"You don't know the real Nick. He's not the gentleman he portrays himself to be. He's a monster hiding in plain sight. Once he's done with you, he'll take away everything and toss you to the curb like trash."

"I don't know who you think you are." Betsy began, her arms tightening around the flowers.

The red head flicked her hair over her shoulder and settled a pitying gaze on the shorter woman. "I was you once." The woman paused, her eyes darting around nervously. "I shouldn't even be here. I shouldn't even be talking to you right now as it could get me into a lot of trouble. Just get out while you still can. I can't say much more but you need to look at the contract. You'll see. He has all the power and once he's done with you, you won't have a voice to fight back."

Betsy opened her mouth to respond but a hand settled upon her shoulder. Jumping slightly, she glanced over and stared up the hulk in a black clothing. The man was stern and his presence erased some of the nervous jitters which had built up inside of her. He pressed a finger to his earpiece, his eyes drifting over the gathered crowd as he listened.

"The car is here. We need to go."

Betsy nodded her head before turning back to the crowd. She opened her mouth to continue her talk with the woman, but she was gone. Instead her spot had quickly been filled by another hand waving fan. She frowned her eyes scanning the bodies before her, a sick churning sensation forming in her gut.

"We need to move now."

A hand lightly pressed against her shoulder as she was herded away from the crowds and into the safe warmth of the car waiting curb side. However even as she relaxed back into her seat and settled the slightly squashed bouquet beside her, Betsy couldn't stop a shudder from rolling through her body.

Something about the woman didn't feel right. It wasn't just her words. It was something she couldn't even put her finger on. She just knew in her bones that the woman was bad news.

**

The door to the Davenport home opened before the car had even pulled to a stop. Betsy blew out a breath, releasing the tension which had held her captive all the way home. But as she pulled open the door to the car, all of it melted away as she was greeted by several smiling faces. Nick stood at the back, his arms folded over his chest as his gaze pieced into hers.

"Betsy, you're home!" Delilah squealed, throwing away any hint of restraint as she launched herself straight off of the step and into the waiting woman's arms.

Betsy wrapped her arms around the child and held her close. Not to be left out, Tommy quickly joined in, his little arms wrapping so tightly around her leg that he almost cut of the blood supply. Still, even despite her discomfort, Betsy's only response was to card her fingers through his hair.

"I missed you both as well." She assured them before taking on laboured step forward.

Nick strode towards her swiftly, his footsteps sure and strong as his gaze remained locked on hers. She could feel her heart give an almighty thump as she held his stare. Betsy knew she would not be able to look away even if she had wanted to.

"I'm proud of you." Nick stated, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead. "You did well today. The immediate reaction appears to be favourable."

He pulled away just as Betsy raised her brows in question. "I'm sure that's not everything."

Nick nodded his head and took a step backwards. "You can't please everyone. There are a few negative responses but we factored that in to our plan. As long as the majority is positive then everything is as we planned."

Shaking her head, Betsy took another lurching step forwards.

"Here, let me take one of the monkeys." Nick offered, leaning down and scooping Tommy into his arms. As soon as he had the squirming boy in his hold, Nick pressed his lips to his son's cheek and pressed a kiss against the soft skin. "Come on, Mrs Reed has made us some food."

Patting Delilah on the back, Betsy reached down and took her hand before following the procession inside. It felt good to be home – even if it would not be her home for much longer. It soothed the remaining tension out of her body as the stress of the day was forced from her mind.

Yet even as she allowed herself to become immersed in Delilah's excited chatter, a small niggling thought pulled at her attention just begging to be heard. The peace wouldn't last because their troubles were far from over. The person was still out there and her family would be at risk until this person was found.