Page 22 of Her Nightshade

“Those pictures are all over the internet. My publicist went crazy,” she said, putting a hand to her hip.

I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral, but inside, that flicker of excitement returned.All over the internet.It was hard not to feel some kind of satisfaction. “I figured it wouldn’t take long,” I said, leaning back slightly. “How bad is it?”

She sighed again, crossing her arms. “It’s everywhere. People are already speculating things…you know how it is.”

I tried to stay calm though my mind was racing with the thought of us being out there, visible to the world. “Well,” Isaid, giving her a small grin. “That just means we’re official now, right?”

Her eyes flickered and I couldn’t tell if she was more annoyed or relieved. Probably both.

“Charlie, you don’t know what this means. It’s serious,” Ana snapped, her voice full of frustration. “I just dealt with that stupid fucking scandal with my stupid fucking ex-husband six months ago, and now I’m being thrown into the spotlight all over again.”

I could see her anger surfacing and the exhaustion in her eyes. This wasn’t just about the pictures. It was about everything she’d been through, everything she was trying to move past.

I stood up and stepped closer, keeping my voice soft. “Ana, I get that. I know this is the last thing you wanted right now, especially after what happened. But you’re not in this alone.”

She looked up at me, a flash of skepticism crossing her face, but I kept going. “I know you’re tired of the spotlight, of dealing with everyone’s opinions, but I’m here. And this time, you’re not dealing with it by yourself.”

She stood there for a moment, her frustration still simmering. But slowly, I could see her defenses start to crack.

I should have felt guilty because, in a way, I caused this. I wanted to claim her as mine, to show the world we weren’t some secret. But looking at her now, that desire to have her known as mine was stronger than any guilt I felt.

11

Ana

Three days. That’s all it took for the world to know that Charlie and I were together. There wasn’t any official confirmation, but you could tell—you could see it in the photos, in the way we walked together, closely and intimately. The way his hand rested on my back, the way we leaned into each other, almost unconsciously. It was all there, plain as day, for anyone looking closely enough.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Part of me wanted to crawl back into my safe, private bubble, but the other part…the other partlikedit. I liked being seen with him even if I wasn’t ready to admit that yet. He was so goddamn handsome, and we lookedsogoodtogether. You couldn’t even tell there was a twelve-year age difference, not that it mattered. None of it mattered anymore.

I realized that I didn’t care if he was too much, if he was overwhelming. The truth was, it was beyond my control now. The way he looked at me, the way he held onto me, I was drawnto it, tohim. And now I realized I didn’t want to let go. I was finally giving in, no longer resisting. I craved his unwavering obsession with me, the way he reassured me over and over again that he was in love with me. It wasn’t just about the way he touched me or the way he looked at me like I was his entire world. It was the way he made me feel seen and wanted. His devotion was intoxicating, and no matter how complicated it made things, I couldn’t resist it.

But even with those pictures out, I didn’t want to leave the bubble we created in my apartment. He hadn’t left since he arrived days ago; he had someone deliver clothes and everything else he needed. I didn’t bother telling him he could leave, that he could go get what he wanted and come back, because I knew he’d refuse. He clung to me for dear life, and deep down, I liked it. The way he stayed, refusing to be anywhere else, filled me with a strange sense of comfort.

When Sloane called to say she and Callan would be in town for the weekend, panic set in. The bubble I had built with Charlie felt fragile, ready to burst. I hadn’t prepared for anyone,especiallymy daughter, to witness what was happening between us. I raised her to be self-sufficient, to rely on no one for happiness, to stand strong on her own. And here I was, wrapped up in someone else, the complete opposite of everything I taught her. The thought of Sloane seeing me like this…it terrified me in so many ways.

When the news first broke, Sloane had called, teasing me in that way only she could.

“So, Mom.” She laughed. “I thought I’d be the first to know if this turned into something!”

I brushed it off at the time, but now, with their visit looming, reality was sinking in. How was I supposed to explain this…whateverthiswas?

Charlie didn’t seem excited when he learned about their visit, even though he didn’t say anything outright. His face fell just a bit, the usual easygoing attitude slipping away for a moment. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of us having company and the thought worried me. Was he trying to keep me only to himself? Did he want me to block out the rest of the world for him? The questions raced in my mind and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe this was more than just discomfort about my daughter’s visit, about meeting her for the first time. Was he trying to pull me further into this bubble we had created, away from everyone else?

As much as I craved his obsession, the thought of him isolating us left a pit in my stomach. I had to figure out how to balance this, how to keep a hold of my own life, without losing myself entirely in him.

And then I thought of something, a way to keep control of this situation. I would use my hold over him. The way he needed my attention and approval—I’d use it to my advantage. He was always desperate to prove himself, to make sure I was happy, and now I’d turn that desperation into leverage.

I told him, carefully, as if I were revealing a vulnerable truth. “I’m afraid of losing my daughter’s respect if she knew how much I needed you.” The words came out soft, but I knew exactly what I was doing. I could see the way his face softened, his protectiveness flaring up instantly.

He wanted to reassure me, to prove that he could be what I needed. And I knew I had him.

It didn’t feel good manipulating him. The guilt of it sat heavy in my chest, but I needed to know that I still had control, some semblance of power in all this chaos. I needed to remind myself that I had a say in this, even though I knew better.

He was already so wrapped up in me, so eager to please, that it almost felt too easy to pull the strings. But still, I hated that Iwas doing it. I hated that I was using his need for my attention to steer things in my favor. And I hated that I had to do it in the first place. It was alarming, but as always, I pushed that aside.

I told myself it was necessary, that it was the only way to keep things from spiraling. I needed to make sure I didn’t lose myself entirely in him. It wasn’t just about controllinghim—it was about controllingmyself. It was about staying true to who I was, even as I felt myself slipping deeper into this strange, intoxicating world.

* * *

---