Page 102 of The Fake Husband Deal

“Richard, Daily Cliff. Would you be willing to make a statement for our news readers?” He pointed a small recorder at me.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can’t be here.”

“This is a public space, and I’m only doing my job, man. Come on, give me a statement, and we’ll both get on with our weekend.”

“I don’t talk to the press, and I have no idea what you’re talking about. Knock yourself out if you want to watch a bunch of teenagers play basketball and have fun. While you’re at it, make sure to name the Star Finders Youth Network so your readers can donate to support the charity.”

I turned and started walking back to the group. Lior had said that eventually, news of our wedding would break out and I might get harassed a little by reporters.

He’d said not to worry because his life was never interesting enough for the press to become a hassle. If I ignored them, they’d go away.

“So it’s not true that your marriage is a sham?”

I stopped. “What did you say?”

“Did you marry Lior Van Stern for money? Is that why you’re cheating on him?”

I took two steps forward to confront the guy when West grabbed my arm to stop me. “Ignore it. Come on, let’s go back.”

“Did you hear what he said?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s bullshit. You know it, and they know it. They’re just trying to get to you so you do something stupid that gives them the real headlines.”

Hannah’s foster mom had a bottle of water for me when I reached the group.

“Thanks.”

“What was that about? Can I help with anything? I have some contacts in most of the papers because of my day job,” she said.

“I appreciate it, but it’s okay. I knew this might happen eventually.”

Drew came over, panting. “Look.” He thrust his phone in my face.

The first thing I saw was the photo that had been taken of me, Lior, and the princes of Lydovia at the mayor’s ball.

Then, my eyes landed on the headline.

I couldn’t bear to read the article properly. A few phrases caught my eye, calling me a gold-digger, a fraud, and a cheat. As I scrolled down the article, it just got worse. I almost dropped West’s phone when I saw photos of me and Jax at Tanner’s bar.

Jax was leaning his head on my shoulder as I whispered something in his ear. He was smiling with his eyes half-lidded.

Without context or a time stamp, that photo looked incriminating. It was incriminating.

“I have to get out of here,” I said.

“Let us take you home,” Drew said.

“No. It’s okay. I’m not far, and you still have half a game to play. I’m not letting the fucking press get to the work we’re doing for the kids.”

He nodded. “Please be safe on your way home. Text me when you get there.”

“Thanks, man.”

I grabbed my rucksack and made my way out of the court.

Thankfully, the reporter didn’t follow me out, but it was clear why a few yards later when I was swarmed by dozens of reporters taking photos and shouting questions at me.

“Is it true?”