Page 118 of Serenity
Descending from my chest, my heart landed on the floor of the SUV. Forlorn, it lay there thudding at a rapid pace and unable to fucking recover. I skimmed the article once and quickly started from the top again. Reading much slower the second time, I willed the words to be false.
With each digestion of the syntax, they grew heavier, making the reality of them something I both hated but had to accept.
…THE 30-YEAR-OLD SOCIALITE AND ALLEGED BOYFRIEND, 42-YEAR-OLD DUKE STEPFORD, HAVE BEEN MAKING WAVES ACROSS SOCIAL MEDIA, BLOGS, AND NEWS OUTLETS SURROUNDING AN ALLEGED SEX TAPE OF THE COUPLE.
STEPFORD, OWNER OF COLONIAL HOLDINGS AND COLONIAL PIPELINE, AND MILLER, OWNER OF SERENITY SPA AND VIVID GALLERY, CAN [ALLEGEDLY] BE SEEN TOGETHER ENGAGING IN LEWD AND INTIMATE ACTS IN WHAT APPEARS TO BE A HOTEL ROOM.
AHEAD OF THE NEWS BREAKING OVER THE INTERNET, NEITHER HAS COME FORWARD TO CONFIRM OR DENY THEIR IDENTITIES IN THE TAPE. PARAMOUR PRESS WILL CONTINUE TO FOLLOW THIS DEVELOPING STORY...
As I scrolled, my phone continued to implode with calls and notifications. A bomb. My shit had transformed into a weapon of mass destruction.
“Mrs. Miller’s condo, boss?” Biram’s assured voice brought me back to the present. His alertness and situational awareness aided my thoughts to catch up in no time.
“She’s probably at the spa.”
I worried about Bee. Had she known? Was she alone? Was she okay? Only two videos of us existed, the one she’d taken from the safe and the one that I’d recently finished editing. Both were supposed to have been safely in my possession. After she’d requested the physical copy, I acquiesced. Still, Serenity wasn’t irresponsible enough to have mishandled or lost the tape. How someone else might have accessed our video was wholly perplexing and lost on me.
A hacker.
Someone with access to the room.
Cleaning staff?
While the question of who surfaced, none of that shit mattered. The damage was irreversible. Unseeing the video was impossible for those exposed via the worldwide net, but getting to Bee before it destroyed her was at the top of my priority list.
Nodding his understanding, Biram shifted our direction to Paramour Canyon. Seldom did Serenity have service up at the summit of the mountains near the clouds. Only a few areas of the spa allowed for cell reception. Calling to give her a heads-up about our predicament would be futile.
Splintered nerves and sprinting thoughts left me on the edge of my fucking seat as I watched the man I’d replaced Reed with weave through traffic with precision. He was doing his best, yet it wasn’t enough as the five o’clock traffic sought to keep us contained.
“Hurry up, Biram, before I have you pull this bitch over and drive it myself.”
Twenty minutes later, I was hopping out of the back of the Cadillac and rushing inside the spa as if I’d lost every fucking marble in my head. At the welcome desk, my desperation was made apparent. Hands splayed across the counter, heart hammering, chest heaving, I conveyed my stress.
“Serenity! Is she still here?”
Immaculate brows dipped to the center of the receptionist’s head. “She should just be finishing up a class. If you’d like to—Sir!”
With no time to wait, I rushed toward the elevators and up to the third floor, where Serenity’s yoga class was held. As I stepped off the lift, weighted feet carried me to my final destination.
Into another fucking realm I’d rushed once I finally made it to the studio. Her petite frame floated around the room, rolling up yoga mats and sanitizing equipment. 432 Hz music played in the background. This was her oasis when we weren’t abroad. This was her sanctuary. Her comfort. Her peace.
She was blissfully oblivious to the chaos occurring in the outside world around us. About us. Minutes passed before I made my presence known. Before I shattered her safe harbor.
“Bumble Bee.”
Two steps.
Two steps, I took into the room. Blinking several times, Serenity’s eyes blossomed at my presence.
“H–hey. What are you doing here?”
Gasping for air, I beckoned for her to take one of the seats near the wall.
“Is everything okay?” Timidly, she asked, sliding her rear into the nearest chair. We’d been on a fucking roller coaster within the past few months. I thought the ride had ended, but the shit show was just getting started.
The ambivalence coloring Bee’s features informed me she didn’t have a fucking clue. I hated to be the one to share the news but, reconciled it had to me. Better me than social media or someone else.
“Baby…” Pinching my slacks and kneeling in front of her, I grabbed her hands. Cautiously, her sights fell on me.