"I can stop. I can delete all the videos and never do it again. I don't need the money," Sandra said, her voice firm.
Ross chuckled, shaking his head.
"Maybe. But you like the fame—even if all you do is spout lies left and right."
Sandra fell silent. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't. He was right.
At first, it had just been a joke, something harmless.
But then her YouTube channel had blown up overnight, and suddenly, she was drowning in attention, swept away by the instant fame.
The thrill of it had been intoxicating.
"If it's fame you want," Ross continued, stepping closer, "I can give that to you—easily."
Sandra inhaled sharply.
"Hahhh..." Her breath hitched, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Every woman at the party tonight had felt it—Ross's undeniable sex appeal.
He wasn't conventionally handsome, but he didn't need to be.
He was tall, built, filthy rich, and famous.
