New scandals broke every single day. Maybe by tonight, the public would find a shiny new piece of gossip to obsess over and forget all about her and Finnian.

With that sliver of hope, she forced herself to calm down, silently praying that the hype would die down by sunset.

She couldn’t have been more wrong. By evening, the story was still glued to the number one spot, spawning half a dozen spin-off hashtags about her and Finnian. The traction was only getting stronger.

Clicking into the tags, Amara found endless threads analyzing her connection to Finnian, dissecting her history with Keith, and aggressively debating the paternity of her child.

The internet sleuths had pooled their collective brainpower to generate every theory imaginable. A few of them were terrifyingly close to the actual truth, sending a chill straight down Amara’s spine.

If millions of strangers managed to expose her deepest secrets, what then? Her peaceful life would be completely shattered. More importantly, what if Larry saw it?

Amara squeezed her eyes shut, caught in a suffocating wave of panic and white-hot fury.

Her life had finally been on track. She had joined the *Letters from Yesterday* production, surrounded by a stunningly talented cast. Mr. Frost was a dedicated director, and the crew was incredibly hard-working.

Everything was falling into place. Her career was taking off, and even her messy situation with her father was finally starting to look manageable.

She had felt so stable, so grounded—until Finnian decided to show up on set and lose his mind, tearing her carefully built peace entirely to shreds.

The more she dwelled on it, the more utterly despicable he seemed. Unable to stomach it any longer, the second they wrapped the night shoot she stormed off the lot and headed straight to the Everly Group Ho to give him a piece of her mind.

When Amara Strode into the Everly Group HQ lobby, dozens of heads discreetly turned her way, eyes

gleaming with barely concealed net

excitement. The company’s younger employees were all terminally online; they knew exactly what was happening between her and their boss, making her sudden

appearance the ultimate real-time

drama.

Ignoring their stares, Amara marched to the reception desk and demanded to see him. The receptionist shot her a quick look, swallowing her burning curiosity as she hastily dialed the executive suite.

Hanging up, the receptionist offered a polite smile. “Ms. Sullivan, Will is coming down to escort you. Please head to the private executive elevator.”

Amara gave a brisk nod, waited for Will Zade, and followed him silently up to the CEO’s office.

When Finnian heard she was actually in the building, a jolt of uncontainable excitement hit him. He had wanted to go down and get her himself, but being trapped on a conference call forced him to send Will instead.

The second he hung up, he stepped out of his office, only to be met by a deeply unamused Amara storming his way.

He knew exactly why she was here, and he had fully anticipated the icy glare. Stepping toward her, he kept his voice low. “Don’t be upset. My hands are tied with this whole situation. Let’s just go inside first.”

Her face tight with anger, Amara followed him in. The moment the door clicked shut, she snapped, “What do you mean, your hands are tied?”

“The news exploded too fast, and the traffic is completely unprecedented,” Finnian explained “If I forcibly scrub it now, it’ll only trigger a public backlash They just use coded language to bypass the censors and keep the rumors alive, making the entire thing ten times worse.”