Page 19 of Tempt you…not!
“We’re done, Rach.” I walk past her and continue on to Paws N’ Pets, but before I reach the door, my phone buzzes with an alert.
It’s a notification that that I’ve appeared in an article. It’s not uncommon, and usually it’s irrelevant things, like a particular purse I’m carrying or where I like to dine.
I quickly find out that this is not about fashion or food.
I should be so lucky.
It’s an article written by Irene McCabe titled: Who is Alysanne Bastion?
A quick peruse of the article shows an image from my infamous spring break video, all the naughty bits blurred, but it’s something further down is what really captures my attention.
It’s an embedded video of Chadwick and me in the elevator on the way up to my room right after we met at the club. I press play and watch as I pull him down into a deep kiss.
Every effort I’ve made to rehabilitate my image over the years is undone with this one article.
And that video makes it look like I’m seducing the enemy.
But the humiliation and horror does not end there. Irene promises a sit-down interview with none other than Chadwick Archibald himself.
Apparently, they’re going live on YouTube.
Fuck Rachel.
Fuck Slate.
And Fuck Chadwick Archibald straight to hell!
* * *
Chadwick
“This is great news?” Father says with a Cheshire grin.
“I don’t think it’s so great,” I shoot back, staring at the video of Alysanne Bastion pulling me in for a kiss.
“Are you kidding me? You’re the picture of politeness. A man standing idly by, respectful of who he’s with. While Alysanne looks like a salacious nymph.”
“Forgive me for not calling that a win,” I say dryly.
“You got a hot piece of ass and kept your nose clean in what could have been a scandal. That’s a win.”
I shake my head in disgust. “Is that all you have for me?”
“I’ve arranged for you to interview with Irene McCabe tomorrow.”
“The trashy reporter?”
“She’s going to ask you about your intimate night with Alysanne, and you’re going to deliver.”
I scoff. “Like hell, I will.”
Father blinks back at me like my defiance is beyond comprehension.
“What happened between Alysanne and I stays between the two of us.”
His face reddens, a purple vein bulging on his giant forehead. “If you don’t take that interview, I swear to God and Satan himself that you will be out on the streets, not a penny to your name.”
It may seem extreme that he’d be willing to disinherit his own son over an interview, but no one says no to my father. Not ever.
