Page 111 of Guarded Love

I nearly jump out of my skin when a soft chime indicates someone else has joined the meeting. This is it.

"Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for joining today's call." The voice is polished, professional, but there's no face to match it. Just a black screen with the name “Dorian” in white text. How fucking rude is that? Especially when we are talking about a serious matter? And that’s red flag number one for me.

Another chime sounds.

A second name appears: “Talia Quinn.”

Her video turns on, but her camera is aimed just slightly off-center, like she didn’t expect to be on. She adjusts quickly, offering a small, polite smile that actually feels… human.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says gently. “Talia Quinn, Talent Relations at Edgehaus. I’ll mostly be listening in, but I’m happy to clarify anything along the way.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward, but just long enough for me to register the difference between how they just appeared on the call.

I glance at Lilly's camera feed and see her tilt her head slightly. I wonder if she’s picked up on the same thing I noticed.

"I'm Dorian from Edgehaus Management," the voice continues. There's something about the way he’s speaking that feels rehearsed. "I have Ms. Willow Sanchez and Ms. Lilly Voss on the call today to discuss some concerns that have been brought to our attention."

The way he says our names sounds like he's reading them off a script for the first time and makes my stomach drop to the floor. There's no warmth, no acknowledgment that we're real people who reached out because we needed help. I’m getting the vibe that we're just names on a document somewhere.

Talia doesn’t jump in, but I notice her expression shift slightly, but I don’t know her well enough to read it or her.

I unmute my microphone and say, "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. We appreciate you hearing us out."

"Of course." Another scripted response. "Before we begin, I want to assure you that we take all concerns seriously and handle them with the utmost discretion. Now, I understand you both have some feedback regarding one of our talent's conduct."

Feedback. Like we're complaining about customer service at a restaurant instead of reporting sexual harassment and emotional manipulation.

"I think feedback is putting it lightly," Lilly speaks up. "We're talking about a pattern of inappropriate behavior that has affected multiple women. I’ve found out since I reached out to Willow that she and I aren’t the only ones."

"Yes, of course. I misspoke." But his tone doesn't change at all. Still that same professional detachment. "Please, go ahead and share your experiences. I'm here to listen."

Talia shifts slightly on camera. She still doesn't speak, but for some reason it’s reassuring.

I take a breath and launch into my prepared talking points. I explain the timeline of my relationship with Leo, the way his behavior escalated from charming to controlling. The messages that started sweet and became demanding. The way he made me question my own judgment, my own reality. “For example, when I was with him, he’d use personal details I’d told him in private to embarrass me in front of other people—friends, even viewers. He’d turn it into a joke, so I couldn’t call it out without looking like I was overreacting. It made me question my own reactions all the time. He created this power imbalance and then made me feel like it was my fault for noticing.”

When I finish, there's a pause that stretches too long, but maybe that’s just me. "I see. That sounds very concerning," Dorian says, but his tone hasn't shifted at all. "Ms. Voss, would you like to share your experience as well?"

Talia clears her throat. “If I may interrupt, Willow, thank you for telling your story. I know it’s not easy. Apologies Lilly. Please continue.”

It’s only a few words, and she keeps her expression carefully neutral, but something in her tone softens how tense I feel.

Lilly nods and begins her story. She talks about the late-night messages that became increasingly explicit, how Leo would alternate between love-bombing her with compliments and then tearing her down minutes later. The way he'd demand photos and then make her feel guilty for hesitating. As she speaks, I watch her hands shake slightly, and I want to reach through the screen to hug her.

"He made me feel like I was crazy for being uncomfortable with some of the things he said and wanted," Lilly says. "Like I should be grateful for his attention. And when I tried to set boundaries, he'd twist it around and make me apologize."

Talia looks down at something, before he looks back at the camera. “I’m really sorry you went through this.”

There’s a pause before Dorian speaks. "Thank you both for sharing. I can imagine this was difficult. We appreciate your bravery in coming forward."

The phrase sounds like it came straight from a PR handbook. I wait for him to ask follow-up questions, to request evidence of what happened, to show any sign that he's actually processing what we've told him.

Instead, he says, "We take these things very seriously, and we will review this information internally."

My instincts from journalism and how I like to do thorough research kick in. "What does that review process look like?" I ask, leaning forward. "Who will be involved? What kind of timeline are we looking at?"

"I can't get into the specifics of our internal procedures," he deflects smoothly. "But I can assure you that all reports are thoroughly investigated."

Red flag number two. He's giving us nothing concrete, no indication that our reports will lead to any actual action.

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