“You’ve had all these resources thrown your way lately. Are you sleeping with some rich man or something?”
The reporters were relentless. Monica’s face turned pale as she looked up at her fans, desperate for just a sliver of support.
But all she saw were cold, angry faces.
“We must have been blind,” someone yelled.
“I thought she was the sweet girl next door. Turns out she’s just a fake, desperate for attention.”
“Let’s go.”
One after another, her fans turned and left her behind.
Monica felt her heart sink. She had planned this birthday party to be her big moment, the night she would finally be on top of the world. Instead, she had destroyed everything. One second, she was living the dream. The next, she was crashing down, deeper than she’d ever fallen before.
What was she supposed to do now?
Her eyes darted up to the second floor. David stood there, towering above everyone, his gaze cold and sharp. His eyes were dark, unreadable, and the way he looked at her made her shiver.
He knew.
He knew everything.
…
Two bodyguards in black suits grabbed Monica by the arms and dragged her upstairs. “Move.”
She stumbled and fell, landing hard on her knees on the soft carpet.
David leaned over the balcony, looking down at her. His eyes were icy, unreadable.
Monica’s whole body trembled. “Mr… Mr. Harmon, please, let me explain…”
He didn’t react. His voice was low, emotionless. “Go ahead. Explain why you pretended to be Ella.”
Monica’s heart stopped. She had been hoping, just a little, that he hadn’t figured it out.
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