CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BELLA
Once Cade left my apartment, I changed into my nightgown and climbed into bed, wanting sleep to come.
It didn’t. Instead, I tossed and turned underneath the covers, my mind racing as I went back over all the images and messages I had received as part of the leaked information. Who would do something like that? Why?
And fuck, there’s no way I’m going back on there, but how the hell am I going to make money now?
When I couldn’t take it any longer, I pulled my phone off its charger and doomscrolled, checking obsessively for updates from RepuMang.
To my shock, they were moving way faster than they promised Cade.
Emails from them trickled in every few minutes, confirming takedowns across sites and search engines.
By the time my eyes grew heavy, it was basically all scrubbed clean, the nightmare vanishing into the digital void.
Relief washed over me; nobody seemed to have noticed, no frantic texts from friends or family blowing up my phone. Exhausted but calmer, I passed out.
I slept until midafternoon.
I woke up in a sweat, the sheets twisted around me, my heart racing.
Let me check my phone again. Thankfully, Lilly hadn’t texted or called me yet.
My private life had been on display for the entire world, but at least it hadn’t reached her.
That was another plus for the boarding school she attended.
The campus was isolated, and the staff limited cell phone usage for students.
In a world where so much of our daily lives were spent online, that was like gold.
Cade, however, had reached out. Just checked with the team one more time. It’s almost over.
I typed out a short thank-you message and staggered to the kitchen.
There wasn’t much in the fridge, and I had almost no appetite, but I still knew I needed to eat something.
I made a roast beef sandwich from the ingredients I found in the crisper, forced down several bites, and then headed to the shower for one of the longest rinses I’d ever taken.
When I emerged, I had another message from Cade. Give me a call when you can. It’s important.
My stomach lurched, and I wondered if I was going to throw up the sandwich. Had something gone wrong? Had they found something else? Was there another twist in this horrible chain of events? I moved to my bed and sank onto the duvet. Then I took a deep breath and dialed Cade’s number.
He picked up as soon as the call went through. “How are you?”
“Okay.” I balled some of the comforter fabric in my fist as if it would brace me against whatever he had to say, whatever unwelcome news he had to deliver. “I don’t know. Terrible. Is everything... do you have an update?”
“Yes.” I heard warmth in his voice. “RepuMang just contacted me. It’s done. All wiped from the internet, Bella. No traces left on search engines, forums, or anywhere else. You’re clean.”
Relief washed over me, loosening the knot in my chest just a fraction. “Really? It’s... gone?”
“Completely. Their team is the best for a reason.”
I exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. “Thank God. I was up half the night obsessing over it.”
“I figured. Which brings me to the other reason I called.” He paused, his voice shifting to something lighter.
“I got an email a few moments ago from Commissioner Frances Fisher. Looks like the Palm Beach Historic Preservation Fund is hosting a donor dinner this evening, and she’d like us to attend so she can talk about some ways the Promenade will improve tourism in the region and bring more visitors to some of the historical landmarks. ”
“A dinner? Tonight?” My stomach twisted again, this time with hesitation. The last thing I wanted was to face a room full of people who might have seen... everything. “Cade, I don’t know. After what happened, I’m not sure I can handle being out there.”
“It’ll take your mind off things,” he said gently. “A distraction, something normal. And trust me, these Palm Beach types are too snobby and refined to mention anything about an internet doxing.”
I bit my lip, clutching the phone tighter, his words battling the shame gnawing at me. Could I really step back into that glittering world without whispers chasing me? “You really think so?”
“They’d sooner discuss the weather or their latest yacht purchase than admit they’ve been scrolling through scandalous leaks online,” he assured, his tone steady, coaxing. “It’ll be fine. Boring, even, in the best way.”
I exhaled into the receiver, the knot in my chest loosening just a fraction as his confidence seeped through the line. “I hope so.”
“I know so. Come with me. Let’s just... breathe for a night.”
Cade had a point; I had to admit it. My thoughts had been spiraling all day, tangled up in the hack and its fallout.
A room full of pretentious strangers, their chatter drowning out my own worries, might not be the worst thing.
It could be a temporary escape, a chance to breathe. But my gut still churned with doubt.
“I’m not sure I can pull of being normal at some fancy party,” I said.
“You sound like you need more convincing,” Cade said, his tone teasing but with a knowing edge, like he was onto me.
“I do.”
Cade didn’t miss a beat. “Frances Fisher will be there, you know. Loves her caviar, that one. I’m talking the good stuff—black pearl, top-shelf, melt-in-your-mouth caviar.
Bet she’ll have mountains of it at this party.
” His voice was smooth now, each word dripping with temptation, like he knew exactly which buttons to push.
I licked my lips involuntarily, the memory of caviar flooding back.
Briny. Rich. And rare. Caviar was a treat during childhood summers at my grandmother’s, when we’d sneak spoonfuls from her fancy tins.
It had been years since I’d tasted it, and the thought made my stomach rumble.
My resolve wavered. I wandered to my closet, my feet moving almost on their own, and yanked open the bifold doors.
The hangers clinked as I rifled through, already picturing myself at this ridiculous party, a plate of caviar in hand.
God, if I go to this thing, here’s hoping no one recognizes me.
“What would I need to wear?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual, and like I hadn’t just caved.
“Now we’re talking.” Cade’s voice warmed, a grin practically audible through the phone. “It starts at seven. I’m sure whatever you wear, you’ll knock ’em dead.”
“I honestly doubt I have anything,” I replied as I sorted through the various pieces of clothing on the hangers.
Some ancient black pants from a previous job selling cruises over the phone, a jacket I used once in an interview, a sundress or two, and a blue gown I last wore six years ago.
I took it off the pole. “Oh, actually, I might have something.”
“Good.”
He sounded happy, excited even, and we hammered out the details before he ended the call.
Once we did, I stripped off my robe and slipped into the blue dress.
At least it still zipped up with no issues, even though I was sure I weighed more than I had when I bought it.
Smoothing the fabric across my stomach, I walked to the mirror.
The dress style was a little dated, maybe even a lot. It was too much of a throwback to the early aughts, and not in a good way.
Except, what else am I going to wear? The gown for the charity fundraiser also hung in the closet, but I didn’t want to wear it again.
Cade might remember it, and worse, so might some of the other people at the event.
This was Palm Beach, after all, and some women wore a new dress every night during the winter season as they attended endless parties, galas, and fashion shows.
I had to keep up.
I crossed the room to my dresser and fished out my jewelry box. I rifled through it, sorting earrings and necklaces until I found a combination I thought worked with the neckline of the dress.
Maybe this won’t be such a big mistake. Maybe.
After deciding on the jewelry, I started getting ready.
It was already after four, and while Cade had said he’d come by my apartment around a quarter to seven, those two hours would pass quickly once I started getting ready.
I pulled my clean hair into an updo on top of my head, painted makeup on my face, and was putting the finishing touches on my look when Cade texted that he’d arrived in the parking lot of my apartment.
I gave myself one more glance, took a deep breath, and walked out the front door. He was outside the car already, and he jogged to the front walk as I locked the deadbolt behind me.
“You look... beautiful.” He wore a fine-cut tuxedo and a pair of blue velvet loafers. He smelled like sandalwood.
He looks like he stepped out of a magazine.
Cade’s hair was impeccably styled, each wave or sleek line catching the light like it’d been sculpted by a professional for a magazine cover shoot.
His outfit was a work of art, and he wore a tailored jacket that hugged his shoulders, paired with trousers that tapered down to his shoes.
His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, his skin glowing with an unreal, almost retouched smoothness.
“You look good too,” I said, fumbling my keys into my cheap satin purse, feeling the contrast between us. His eyes flicked over me, and he grinned. “So, you think this dress works?” I asked, smoothing it around my hips with my free hand.
“It more than works, Bella,” he replied. His gaze lingered just long enough to make me believe it.
“Good, because I don’t want to screw up,” I said, and he gave a little nod, as if he knew he’d already set the bar impossibly high.
We stared at each other for a long moment, and another small hint of electricity zapped in my stomach.
Sure, I’d had men in my life, plenty of boyfriends in high school and dates here and there, but I underestimated how much the last few months on FanZone had deadened me to the dating scene.
Despite my best effort, I’d come to see sex and sex appeal as commodities, as things to be sold and used in business transactions.
I was used to people leering at me online as I wore this set of lingerie or that pair of panties.
But they were behind a screen, drifting on the internet, and never right in front of me, never so close to me.
Somehow, that night, as I stepped off the front stoop, the way he looked at me made me feel more naked and raw than any VIP session I’d ever done with my subscribers.
That scared me.