Page 13 of No Headlines Please

I did know. And why? Because Sloane had done most of her crying publicly on every low-rent gossip show that would have her. Months later, she was still crying – except now she'd moved on to hinting that the truth was uglier than anyone imagined.

Technically, this was true – just not in the way she made it sound.

Oddly enough, none of this had actually damaged my reputation.

It had completed it.

Even before I'd walked out of that church, people thought I was difficult.

Volatile.

Dangerous.

Leaving Sloane standing at the altar hadn't changed the narrative. But it had turned it into prime-time entertainment, especially here in Chicago, where the family business had its roots.

Some might say the notoriety was the price of growing up in a family empire built on curated perfection.

But me?

I thought it was complete bullshit.

As for my family, they'd handled the wedding debacle the same way they handled everything – strategically with excellent PR. Within hours, they'd released a polished little statement about "respecting everyone's privacy during a difficult time," while quietly scrubbing me from the company website.

Like that was a punishment.

I'd been begging them to remove me for years.

I was tired of the headlines, and living life for an audience wasn't my style.

In front of me, the blonde gave a little stomp of her heel. "Don't you even care?"

I scoffed. "Why should I? You care enough for both of us."

The blonde stared like I'd just confessed to stealing candy from kids. "Wow." Her jaw clenched. "You really are exactly like people say."

People said a lot of things. Only half of them were true.

And the other half?

Well, those depended on who was telling the story.

I replied, "Good."

Her brow wrinkled. "Good how?"

I smirked. "No false advertising."

This made her sputter. "Are you freaking enjoying this?"

The answer was complicated. In the beginning, I just ignored the drama and waited for it to go away. But lately, I'd been leaning into it, figuring that if people were determined to cast me as the villain, I might as well enjoy the role.

She gave a dramatic sigh. "Well?"

I shrugged. "I'm still deciding."

With an epic eyeroll, she looked at her friend, only to gasp at what she saw. "Oh, my God, Megan. Are you seriously taking a selfie?"

Yes.