Chapter 5 Chapter 0005

•SEBASTIAN•

"The video has three million views already. Three million, Seb. In two days."

Kenny hadn't stopped talking since we walked through the door. I held my whiskey and nodded, which was enough to keep him going.

The club was loud enough to swallow his words at the edges, but not loud enough to drown him out completely.

"Harrington's team is already putting out statements," he continued, leaning closer. "They're making it sound like you cut him off on purpose. The narrative is already shifting and if we don't get ahead of this—"

"I didn't cut him off."

"I know that."

"Then what are we talking about?"

Kenny exhaled sharply. "We're talking about what the public thinks. We're talking about Harrington lying in ICU while his management team feeds the press whatever story benefits them most." He lowered his voice. "RedStone Energy already called my phone twice today. Twice, Seb. They don't call twice unless they're nervous."

RedStone was my second biggest sponsor with twelve million dollars annually, so I didn't take it lightly that they wanted to pull out of the deal.

I brought the glass to my mouth and drank. "They'll call a third time when the investigations are over. There's no need to panic."

"And if the investigations don't clear you fast enough?" Kenny asked. "Sponsors don't wait for that. They protect themselves first and ask questions after."

He wasn't wrong, and I knew it. The footage from the crash was everywhere. Thirty seconds of blurred movement, a car clipping mine at the wrong angle, and then the barrier. My car spun, but his didn't stop.

I walked away with a bruised shoulder, but Harrington was still unconscious two days later.

I didn't cause it. Anyone who understood the footage could see that. But understanding and narrative were two different things, and right now the narrative was running faster than the facts.

"Sebastian—"

"Give me a minute."

Kenny frowned. "I'm not finished."

"You are for now." I nodded toward the bar. "I'll be back."

He turned to look and immediately groaned. "Are you serious right now?"

I was already heading toward the bar.

She was sitting at the bar in a black dress, and a jacket pulled tight around her shoulders.

But what caught my eye from the beginning was the purple collar around her neck.

I had been in the club for over a year and had never felt so strongly about claiming someone as mine.

What I knew was that I didn't want her to disappear into the crowd before I understood why she had pulled my attention the moment I walked in.

The purple collar sat against her skin and something decisive settled in my chest, and I reached into my pocket.

She didn't move when I unclasped the purple collar. She didn't stop me when I replaced it with the black one.

Her breathing changed, but she stayed still and that told me more than anything she had said at the bar.

She fought me on it afterward, which I expected. She was sharp and direct and I liked her fierceness.

By the time we left the VIP room, the arrangement was made. A hundred thousand up front. Fifty thousand monthly. My address on a card attached to the house keys she slipped into her bag.

I watched her leave and then went back to Kenny, who looked like he had aged five years in thirty minutes.

"Are you done?" he asked flatly.

"Call the agency in the morning."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I already did. Billy confirmed they have someone available. Apparently their best crisis specialist."

Good enough.

•••

Billy was on the phone when I arrived in his office and waited for the PR specialist that he had hired to work on my case.

I stood near the window and checked my phone.

The footage had gained another 400,000 views overnight. Two sports journalists had published opinion pieces by morning. One was cautious, and the other had already decided I was guilty.

Kenny sat across from Billy, nodding at everything.

The door opened behind me.

Billy looked up immediately. "Sloane. Finally."

I turned.

She stopped in the doorway.

The moment she saw me, every bit of composure on her face collapsed before she put it back together. Her jaw tightened and her grip on the strap of her bag adjusted.

"This is Sebastian Vale," Billy announced. "Formula 1 champion and currently the biggest problem in my life."

I held her gaze while Billy talked.

She was still wearing the same jacket she had worn the night before. The collar, I imagined, was somewhere underneath her blouse because the line of her throat was bare now.

She stepped fully into the office and closed the door behind her.

I watched her cross the room and take the empty chair across from me, her expression completely neutral by the time she sat down.

She was good.

This was going to be interesting.