Chapter 16 Daniel
Daniel
I’m still standing by the window when my phone starts buzzing again. And again. And again.
The screen lights up with notifications from emails, texts, and news alerts. Each one is worse than the last.
WILLIAM’S MYSTERY GIRLFRIEND: PR STUNT OR REAL ROMANCE?
TECH CEO’S EMPLOYEE RELATIONSHIP RAISES ETHICAL QUESTIONS.
SOURCES SAY BAILEY RODGERS IS “JUST A DISTRACTION”.
My hands shake as I scroll through headline after headline. Each one has Bailey’s face next to mine, from photos from the gala in London to yesterday’s disastrous press mixer. In every image, she looks beautiful, yet they’re tearing her apart.
The comments are worse. Thousands of strangers are speculating about her motives, her character, her worth. Gold digger, they say. Social climber. Lucky nobody who slept her way to the top.
I want to throw the phone through the window.
Instead, I call Lottie.
She answers on the first ring. “Have you seen—”
“I’ve seen it.”
“It’s everywhere, Daniel. Every major outlet, every gossip site, every tech blog. And it’s not just about you anymore, they’re going after her specifically.”
I close my eyes. “Fuck.”
“Larsson called. He’s reconsidering the deal. He doesn’t want to be associated with this kind of scandal.”
“Fuck.”
“The board wants an emergency meeting. They’re talking about asking you to step down temporarily until this blows over.”
My eyes fly open. “They want me out?”
“They want you to fix this. And Daniel—” Her voice softens. “You need to stay silent until I can craft a proper statement. Don’t talk to the press. Don’t make it worse.”
But I’m barely listening because another notification pops up. This time, it’s a video of Bailey, captured on someone’s phone as we walked through the airport yesterday. They carefully cropped me out of it even though I was holding her hands, leading her past the throng of hungry reporters.
“Daniel? Are you listening?”
“I have to go.” I hang up before she can respond.
I pull up Bailey’s contact, thumb hovering over her name. What do I even say? I’m sorry that our arrangement has damaged your reputation? I’m sorry I dragged you into my mess?
I’m sorry I pushed you away when you needed me most?
I call her. It rings once. Twice. Three times.
Voicemail.
“Bailey, it’s me. I—” I stop, not knowing how to finish. “Call me back. Please.”
She doesn’t.
***
The next morning, I arrive at the office before dawn. I plan to get in, assess the damage, and figure out how to protect Bailey from the fallout, but when I pull up to the building, there are already reporters camped outside. They spot my car immediately, cameras raising, voices shouting questions.
I ignore them, heading straight for the private entrance.
My phone rings with Bailey’s call.
“Where are you?” I ask immediately.
“On my way to work.”
“Don’t. Stay home today.”
“Excuse me?”
“The press is everywhere. You don’t need to face this right now. I’ll handle it.”
There’s a pause. When she speaks again, her voice is cold. “I’m not hiding like I’m guilty of something.”
“I’m not asking you to hide. I’m asking you to stay safe.”
“Safe?” She laughs bitterly. “From what exactly?”
“From everyone trying to tear you apart for clicks.”
“I work there, Daniel. I have a job. Or did you forget that part when you were busy putting yourself first?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair.” I hear traffic noise in the background. “I’m already almost there. I’ll see you inside.”
“Bailey, don’t—”
She hangs up.
Dread twists low in my gut. I text security immediately: Bailey Rodgers arriving soon. Clear the entrance. Keep press back.
Then I race downstairs, getting out just as she arrives. Reporters swarm her the moment she steps out of her car, so much that they swallow the securitymen trying to keep the back. Cameras flash like strobe lights, and voices shout over each other.
“Ms. Rodgers! Were you dating before you got hired?”
“Is it true you’re an escort and you’re doing this for money?”
I watch Bailey try to push through, head down, shoulders squared. Security is forming a barrier, but there are too many reporters, too much chaos. Then one of them grabs her arm, and I’m bolting through them, pushing and shoving before I consciously decide to.
“Ms. Rodgers!” The reporter yanks her closer, microphone shoved in her face. “Everyone thinks you’re a whore who—”
I don’t let him finish.
I shove through the crowd, grab his wrist, and twist until he releases Bailey. “Get your fucking hands off her.”
“Mr. Williams, I was just—”
“You were assaulting my employee.” I pull Bailey behind me, putting my body between her and the crowd. “Security! Clear these people out. Now.”
Cameras are everywhere, capturing every second. I can see phones raised, recording, broadcasting this moment to thousands of people in real-time.
I don’t care.
“Everyone back! This is private property. Anyone who doesn’t leave immediately will be arrested for trespassing.”
Backup security finally catches up, forming a wall between us and the press. I keep Bailey tucked against my side as we push toward the entrance.
“Daniel, how much are you paying her?”
“Is it true she’s a PR prop?”
“What do you say to accusations that you’re manipulating investors?”
I ignore every question, focused only on getting Bailey inside safely.
The doors finally close behind us, muffling the chaos outside. Bailey pulls away from me immediately, stumbling slightly. Her breathing is rapid, and her hands are shaking.
“Are you okay?” I reach for her.
She steps back. “Don’t.”
“Bailey—”
“I said don’t.” Her voice is sharp, but I can hear the tremor underneath. “I’m fine.”
She’s not fine. Her mascara is smudged, probably from tears she won’t let fall. There’s a red mark on her arm where that bastard grabbed her. Rage floods through me so intensely that I have to clench my fists to keep from going back outside and finishing what I started.
“Come to my office,” I say, trying to gentle my tone. “We need to talk.”
“I have work to do.”
“Bailey—”
“I said I have work to do, Mr. Williams.” She straightens her shoulders stubbornly. “Unless you’re firing me?”
“Of course I’m not firing you.”
“Then I’ll be at my desk.”
She walks past me without looking back, heels clicking against marble.
I stand frozen, watching her go, every instinct screaming at me to follow her.
Instead, I turn and head to my office. The moment my door closes behind me, my phone starts buzzing again. It’s Lottie.
“Tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did,” she says the second I answer.
“What are you talking about?”
“The video! Daniel, you assaulting a reporter is already trending. ‘#WilliamsLosesControl’ is the number two topic worldwide.”
My stomach drops. “I didn’t assault anyone. He grabbed Bailey.”
“That’s not what it looks like in the footage!”
I sink into my chair. “He hurt her.”
“I know, and I understand why you reacted. But Daniel—” She sighs heavily. “This makes everything worse. Larsson just called. He is officially pulling out of the deal.”
“He grabbed her arm. I saw the mark—”
“It doesn’t matter what actually happened. It matters what it looks like. And right now, it looks like you’re spiraling.”
“What do I do?” I ask quietly.
“Honestly, you might just need to end everything with Bailey once and for all. Make it clear you’re choosing the company first. It’s not pretty, but it might be the only way to get the investors back on your side.”
“You want me to throw Bailey under the bus.”
“I want you to save your company. And if you care about her at all, you’ll also protect her reputation. The longer you’re connected in the public eye, the worse this gets for both of you.”
She’s right. I know she’s right, but the thought of publicly distancing myself from Bailey makes me physically ill.
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“Don’t think. Act. The board meets in three hours. If you don’t have a plan by then, they’ll decide for you.”
She hangs up.
I stare at my desk, at the files I’m supposed to be reviewing, at the presentation I’m supposed to be giving tomorrow. None of it matters. All I can see is Bailey’s face. I should go to her and apologize.
Instead, I sit here like a coward, calculating risk versus reward as if she were a business problem to be solved.
An hour later, there’s a sharp knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Bailey enters, and my heart lurches. She’s changed clothes, probably had spare ones in her desk. Her makeup is fixed, her hair pulled back, but I can still see the red mark on her arm.
“We need to talk,” she says, closing the door behind her.
“I was going to come find you—”
“I’m not hiding.” She cuts me off. “I know you told me to stay home. I know you think you’re protecting me, but I’m not going to cower in my apartment while people say terrible things about me.”
“Bailey, you saw what happened out there—”
“I saw you lose control.” Her voice is sharp. “I saw you physically confront a reporter on camera. Do you have any idea what that’s going to do to your reputation?”
“I don’t care about my reputation. He hurt you.”
“And now you’ve made it worse!” She’s angry now, irate. “Now, instead of just questioning our relationship, they’re saying you’re violent and unstable and everything Cassidy accused you of being.”
“I was protecting you!”
“I didn’t ask you to protect me!” She steps closer, eyes blazing. “I asked you to trust me to handle myself, but you can’t do that, can you? You have to control everything, fix everything, save everyone, whether they want saving or not.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” She crosses her arms. “Ever since London, you’ve been treating me like I’m fragile. I work here, Daniel. I have a job, a career, a life outside of being your girlfriend, fake or otherwise.”
“I know that—”
“Do you? Because right now it feels like I’m just another liability to manage.”
“Is that what you think?” I ask quietly. “That I see you as a liability?”
“I don’t know what you see anymore.” Her voice cracks slightly. “Do you even care about me?”
I should tell her the truth that I care about her more than I’ve cared about anyone in twenty years.
The thought of her being hurt makes me want to burn everything down.
But the pressure is crushing me, and Bailey is standing in the middle of it all, her name being dragged through mud because of me.
“You know what? Maybe that’s exactly what you are.” I hear myself say. “A liability.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Bailey’s face goes completely cold. The warmth, the anger, the fire—all of it drains away, replaced by something empty and terrible.
“Understood, Mr. Williams.” Her voice is flat. “Will that be all?”
“Look, don’t—”
“Will. That. Be. All.” Each word is ice.
I can’t speak. She turns and walks to the door. Her hand is on the handle when I find my voice again.
“Wait—”
“Don’t.” She doesn’t turn around. “Don’t make this worse than it already is.”
Then she’s gone. The door closes with a soft click, just as I realize, this really might be the end.