Chapter 45

Rose’s POV

I stared at my phone screen until the words blurred, reading the same headline for the twentieth time. “ROSE LEWIS: THE PRIVATE LIFE SHE DIDN’T WANT YOU TO SEE.” Beneath it, that grainy photo of me entering the London hotel with Jonathan four years ago. His hand on my lower back. My face turned up to his, laughing at something he’d said.

How? How had anyone found this? I’d been so careful.

My boutique office, normally my sanctuary, felt suffocating now. Outside, I could hear my staff whispering, their usual respectful silence replaced by urgent murmurs. They’d seen the stories. Everyone had.

Three major fashion sites had dropped my spring collection. Five influencers had canceled promotional contracts. Two department stores had “postponed” their orders. All within twenty-four hours.

My empire, built so carefully brick by brick, was crumbling beneath my feet.

The phone on my desk rang again. My publicity team, no doubt, with anoth