There’s a snapshot of Henry towering over me in the lodge’s main hall the day he scolded me for showing my jealousy as Rachel served him drinks, and one of Henry with his hand settled on the small of my back while we’re walking along the path—he was always so careful about touching me outside the cabin.
They aren’t all security photos, though. There’s one from the grand opening Saturday night, with me in my fabulous dress, standing morose in the background while Henry ignored me all night. Just below it is a still of me in Michael’s arms that same night, and then one of him leading me into his cabin.
And another of me ducking out of the cabin in Michael’s clothes the next morning.
More security pictures in the following weeks, after our ugly breakup and Henry’s departure, show my relationships with Ronan and Connor unfold—the hugs and friendly leans against each other by the lake. It’s all innocent enough, and yet it paints a totally different picture when paired with the Wolf Hotel Billionaire’s Innocent Farm Girl Not So Innocent headline.
My eyes burn with the threat of angry tears as I graze over the first paragraph again.
Owner of artisanal Farm Girl Soap Co. start-up and assistant to Wolf Hotels billionaire Henry Wolf has had a busy summer, snagging the interest of her rich boss （despite the corporate policy against fraternization）。 But when the boss was away making those big bucks, the assistant played, falling into the arms and beds of several coworkers, including Wolf’s personal masseuse and several hotel grounds workers. The question is, will Henry Wolf go through with the wedding now that we’ve uncovered his bride-to-be’s dark secrets?
“Who even wrote this trash?” I mutter, more to myself. There aren’t any blatant claims of my infidelity. Just a lot of choice words that make me look like a gold-digging whore and Henry look like a clueless sucker.
“These were taken from corporate property. They belong to me. Some asshole has clearly sold them to this shit mag!” Henry roars into his phone as he paces. Dyson is surely on the other side of that line. “I want the full list of every fucking security guard on staff this summer, and who was working the night of the grand opening. Get it from Belinda. Find out where they live, their contact information. I’m going to make whoever did this pay!”
I haven’t seen Henry this agitated since the night at the golf club when we discovered Scott had been lying about having seen William before he died.
Violet watches. What must she think of her father in this light?
“And this Ben Shaw? Who is he?” Henry barely listens before barking, “Find out!”
Here I was just two days ago, thinking that snooping reporter didn’t unearth what he was digging for. But he had a bigger aim than releasing it on some hot-take celebrity scandal website that feeds a thousand clickbait offshoots. Not that those sites haven’t jumped in to ride the magazine’s coattails. I’ve already received texts from Autumn and half of Greenbank.
“How bad is it?” Violet whispers.
“Oh, you know, they’ve made it sound like I’m a habitual cheater, that I’ve been running around, humping every male’s leg I can get near.” Tears prick my eyes. Mama called twice and texted three times, but I’m avoiding her. Her judgment is the last thing I can deal with.
“But it’s not true.”
I avert my gaze because the reality is, there are many truths buried in this reputation-destroying smear campaign. “Does it matter? Enough people will believe it. I’m already getting DMs and comments on Farm Girl’s social media.”
Her face screws up. “Already?”
“Yup.” Got my first “you slut” comment about an hour ago, before I even knew this article existed, and they’re trickling in, gaining momentum. Everything from whore to stupid, plus a few comments directed at Henry.
“Dump her cheating ass, Wolf. I would never cheat on you.”
“Her loss, our gain.”
Annie texted to ask how I’d like to handle it.
I have no damn clue.
Violet bites her fingernail. “Don’t people have anything better to do?”
“Clearly not.”
My phone rings with a call from Ronan. I answer in a rush. “I’m so sorry you’re getting dragged into this.” I sent him screenshots of the magazine as soon as the initial shock wore off.
“I’m not getting dragged into anything. And don’t fucking apologize to me, Red.” He sounds annoyed. “Is Wolf with you?”