Chapter 3 - The Digital StormMorning broke with a pale, bruised Chicago sun fighting its way through a layer of heavy gray clouds. I woke up wrapped in the oversized cashmere sweater Vincent had provided, lying in a bed so soft it felt like floating on a cloud.
When I padded quietly out to the kitchen, Mrs. Gable handed me a tablet instead of coffee.
"You'll want to see this before Mr. DeLuca returns from his morning briefing," the older woman said gently, her eyes full of quiet sympathy.
I took the device. My hands trembled as I looked at the screen.
The video of the restaurant incident had gone viral overnight, exploding across TikTok, X (formerly Twitter), and local news outlets. Millions of views. Thousands of comments. But what terrified me wasn't just the footage of Tyler laughing or Vincent kissing my chin—it was the narrative forming around it.
“Mystery Mafia Boss Defends Plus-Size Waitress Against Cruel Ex-Boyfriend.”
Some headlines painted it as a modern fairy tale; others, fueled by Tyler’s PR team and local gossip blogs, portrayed me as an ambitious opportunist who had somehow seduced a criminal syndicate leader to ruin an honest man. Comments ranged from cruel body-shaming remarks about my weight to terrified speculations about whether I was now a marked woman.
My stomach churned. I set the tablet down and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, hugging my arms around myself.
"They're calling me a monster's pet," I whispered to the empty room.
"They don't know what they're talking about," a voice resonated from behind me.
I spun around. Vincent stood in the doorway, having just returned from downstairs. He had shed his suit jacket; his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing the lean, corded muscle beneath. He looked tired, the faint lines around his eyes betraying a night spent managing a dozen crises sparked by a single kiss.
"Did you see the internet?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly. "Tyler gave an interview to a local tabloid. He's claiming I manipulated you, that I'm a gold-digger who trapped a dangerous man."
Vincent walked straight toward me, stopping only when he was close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. He reached out and gently took my hands, pulling them away from my arms where I was holding myself so tightly I had left red marks.
"Let him talk," Vincent said, his voice steady and absolute. "Tyler's little stunt is already backfiring. His father-in-law's construction company relies on city contracts. By morning, my legal team ensured those contracts were audited for regulatory violations. By noon, Tyler's fiancé will be packing her bags when she realizes her golden boy is entirely bankrupt."
I stared at him, stunned. "You dismantled his life overnight?"
"He tried to destroy yours in front of a room full of people," Vincent replied coldly. "He got off easy."
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"And what about me, Vincent?" I asked, my voice dropping to a fragile whisper as I looked up into his dark eyes. "What happens to me when the cameras stop rolling and your enemies decide I'm your weakness?"
Vincent’s thumb brushed softly across the back of my hand. "They won't dare touch you. Because starting today, you aren't just a waitress from a diner. You are under my protection. And if you are willing to trust me, Emily... we are going to show the city exactly who you are."
