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“Maybe they shouldn't.”

That surprises Carolina.

“I'm a journalist. I'm not supposed to tell people, Don't worry, Mitchell Knight is one of the good billionaires. That's not my job. People deserve to know who powerful men are. They deserve to know what motivates them, where their money goes, what they expect in return, and what they're doing with the influence that money buys them.”

I look down at my hands.

“But there's another side to that.”

“What?” Annabeth asks.

“The public loves tearing powerful people apart.”

The words come more quietly now.

“Give people a billionaire, a secretive business deal, and a few suspicious numbers, and they'll fill in whatever blanks you leave for them. Social media will turn speculation into fact before lunch. Someone will decide the Rovers are a tax scheme or a land grab or an ego project. Someone else will find a photograph of Mitchell standing beside the wrong person fifteen years ago and build a conspiracy around it. And once that version gets loose?”

I shake my head.

“Good luck putting the truth back together.”

I'm getting worked up. I know I am.

Worse, I know why.

Because suddenly I'm picturing it. Mitchell's name dragged through the mud. His motives twisted. His past pulled into it somehow. That icy expression Mitchell wears when the rest of the world gets too close settling over his face again.

And I hate it.

Fuck.

When did I start feeling protective of Mitchell Knight?

I'm supposed to investigate the man. Not want to stand between him and the entire fucking internet.

“But isn't that his problem?” Chiara asks gently.

“Yes.”

The answer comes immediately. Then I sigh.

“And no.”

Five women wait.

“I can't control what people say about Mitchell. I shouldn't. And if I find something wrong, I'm not protecting him from it. It wouldn’t be ethical. And that’s not because I don't care how I feel about him.”

Even saying that hurts.

“But I can make damn sure my story doesn't contribute to the noise. If I put his name on something, it'll be true. Not technically true. Not clickbait true. Not three facts arranged in the most damaging order possible because outrage generates traffic.”

Carolina's eyes are locked on mine.

“I want to tell the actual truth.”

I swallow.

“Because maybe there is something here the public should know.”