Chapter 4

　　Vesper's POV

　　The moment the article went live, I felt the situation slipping out of my hands.

　　I stood near the center of Jaxon's suite, staring at my phone while notifications flooded the screen.

　　AN ULTIMATUM? JAXON CONFRONTED OUTSIDE HIS HOTEL ROOM BY A MYSTERY WOMAN

　　JAXON LAURENT CAUGHT IN CHEATING SCANDAL?

　　This was exactly the kind of public narrative that destroyed careers. Sponsors hated scandal, management hated distractions, and right now, Jaxon Laurent looked like a reckless athlete spiraling publicly.

　　Worse still, I looked like part of the mess.

　　I pressed my fingers against my temple. "I need to release a statement immediately," I said, already opening my laptop again. "I'll identify myself publicly as your PR manager before this spreads any further."

　　"That's not happening." He said, looking up from his phone.

　　Jaxon was sitting on the couch, now watching me quietly. The intensity of it unsettled me.

　　"I heard you perfectly," he drawled, looking up.

　　I stopped moving. "I'm trying to stop your reputation from catching fire."

　　His gaze stayed on me for a long second before he finally leaned back. "Six years," he said quietly, almost to himself. "A PR expert's memory really is terrible."

　　My brows pulled together. "What does that mean?"

　　He didn't answer immediately, and the silence felt heavier than an actual response. I stared at him.

　　There was arrogance in him, yes. Confidence too. The kind that came from being rich, attractive, famous, and fully aware of all three.

　　But underneath that? Something was restrained.

　　"You really don't remember me." It wasn't a question this time.

　　"I'm sorry, should I?"

　　A humorless smile touched his mouth.

　　"Forget it."

　　The coldness in his voice caught me off guard.

　　Before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed again, and it was another news alert.

　　I shut the screen off. A headache pulsed behind my eyes. Chloe was in the hospital. Sunny was alone somewhere. The media was destroying my client in real time, and somehow I had become part of the scandal.

　　"I can fix this," I said, mostly to myself now. "I just need cooperation."

　　Jaxon leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows against his knees.

　　"And if I don't cooperate?"

　　"Then your career gets worse."

　　"This isn't going to stop me from playing."

　　"It's reality, Jaxon."

　　His gaze lingered on my face before dropping briefly to my trembling hand. I moved to grab my bag, hating how much I was shaking.

　　I started toward the door.

　　"Vesper."

　　Something in the way he said my name made me stop. "You're overwhelmed," he said quietly.

　　"I'm busy."

　　"That's not the same thing." His voice had lost that lazy teasing edge.

　　"Do you know what's really irritating?" I asked tiredly. "I came here prepared to clean up your disasters, and now somehow my life is collapsing faster than yours."

　　"I'm supposed to be heading to the hospital right now, but instead I'm here trying to stop the internet from turning you into America's most hated hockey player." Emotion tightened unexpectedly in my throat. "I'm late already," I whispered. "I still haven't fixed anything."

　　"You should go to the hospital," he said dismissively, "we'll address the public when you return. Let's go with the flow."

　　I almost laughed at that because people always said things like that to women carrying too much responsibility.

　　As if things wouldn't fall apart the second we stopped holding them together.

　　"You don't understand," I said quietly. "If this scandal gets worse, your sponsors panic. Then your management gets involved. Then the entire narrative changes before I can control it."

　　Jaxon stopped directly in front of me.

　　Close enough that I could smell his cologne faintly beneath the lingering scent of alcohol and expensive hotel soap.

　　Close enough that my heartbeat became annoyingly aware of his presence again.

　　"You keep saying 'control,'" he murmured. "Like losing it scares you."

　　My chest tightened unexpectedly because the truth was— It did.

　　Losing control meant chaos; it meant debt collectors, abandonment, humiliation, and pain.

　　"I just need you to cooperate with me."

　　His eyes stayed on me for another long second before he finally asked quietly, "What happens if I do?"

　　I exhaled slowly. "I release a statement identifying myself as your PR manager. We kill the dating rumors before they spread further. Then we rebuild your public image from the ground up."

　　"And if we don't?"

　　"People will assume you cheated on your girlfriend."

　　A faint smile appeared on his face then, but this one looked sad somehow.

　　"That's the part you're worried about. You should stop prying into my private life, Vesper."

　　I frowned slightly.

　　"What does that mean?"

　　Before he could answer, my phone buzzed sharply again.

　　I answered quickly. "Robert? I'm on my way to the hospital now—"

　　The silence on the other end stopped me cold.

　　"Miss Hale," he said quietly, "I'm very sorry."

　　The room seemed to tilt slightly. No, I hate that word, sorry, before a storm.

　　"I was coming," I whispered immediately, gripping the edge of the table. "I was literally about to leave."

　　Guilt hit me so violently I felt nauseous.

　　I was here arguing about headlines and fixing scandals while Chloe died alone in a hospital room waiting for me.

　　Something sharp cracked painfully inside my chest.

　　"Miss Hale?" Robert asked gently.

　　I pressed a shaking hand against my mouth, trying to force myself back under control before I embarrassed myself completely in front of Jaxon.

　　But all I could think about was Chloe laughing two weeks ago while complaining about Sunny painting glitter on her white couch.

　　Chloe is teasing me for working too much.

　　Chloe hugged me goodbye at brunch and said, You're basically Sunny's second mother anyway.

　　And now she is gone, just gone.

　　"Sunny," I whispered suddenly. "Where's Sunny?"

　　"She's safe," Robert assured me. "Miss Bennett's will named you as Sunny's preferred guardian."

　　"What?"

　　"However, there's been a complication."