Fallon
I had seen internet trolls tear people apart before. I had witnessed viral scandals ruin reputations overnight. But nothing prepared me for being the target of it.
It started as a few snarky comments under my engagement post—harmless at first, the kind of thing I could brush off.
"Damn, she really secured the bag, huh?"
"From influencer to billionaire's wife. Must be nice."
"And here I thought she was all about hard work. Turns out Daddy's money and a rich fiancé do the trick."
"Nepo baby pretending to be relatable online? That's embarrassing."
I scrolled, my stomach twisting with every cruel remark.
The worst part? They weren't entirely wrong.
I was from a wealthy family, even if my father had cut me off a year ago. I was engaged to a billionaire, even if it wasn't out of love. And no matter how hard I worked to build my own name, people would always see me as the privileged girl who had everything handed to her.
I forced my fingers to stop scrolling.
Why was I even reading this?
I knew better than to feed into the negativity, but the words clung to me, burrowing under my skin like tiny, invisible needles.
Taking a shaky breath, I locked my phone and set it down. Maybe if I ignored it, it would pass.
But it didn't.
By the next morning, the engagement post had gone viral, with gossip pages reposting screenshots of the nastiest comments. My notifications were a war zone—messages, DMs, tags in posts I wanted nothing to do with.
I buried myself in work, filming content, editing videos, pretending like none of it got to me. But Mia saw right through it the moment she walked into my apartment.
"Okay, spill," she said, plopping onto my couch.
I didn't even try to play dumb.
"They're calling me a gold digger," I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.
Mia frowned. "Who?"
"Everyone." I reached for my phone and handed it to her. She skimmed through the comments, her expression shifting from confusion to anger.
"Are you freaking kidding me? These people don't even know you!"
I let out a humorless laugh. "Doesn't matter. They've already decided who I am."
Mia set my phone down with a little too much force. "Okay, first of all, you do not owe anyone an explanation. You've worked hard for everything you have. And second, screw them. They sit behind screens making assumptions about people they'll never meet. Don't give them that power."
I knew she was right. I wanted to believe she was right.
But the damage was already done.
Later that evening, my phone rang.
Reid.
I debated ignoring him, but I was too emotionally drained to deal with another power struggle. Sighing, I answered.
"You've seen it, haven't you?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"Seen what?" I feigned ignorance, even though we both knew better.
"The media circus around our engagement."
I closed my eyes. "Yeah."
There was a pause. "Are you okay?"
The question caught me off guard. I had expected indifference, maybe even mild amusement. Not… concern.
I hesitated. "I'll survive."
"You don't have to read that crap, Fallon."
"It's hard not to when my entire feed is flooded with it."
His voice was steady, calm. "It'll blow over."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one being dragged online.
I sighed. "Why did I think I could have a normal life after this?"
"You knew what you were getting into."
I scoffed. "Wow. Thanks for the pep talk, fiancé."
His lips quirked up in a half-smile. "You know I'm right."
I hated that I did.
Another pause stretched between us before he spoke again. "I'll handle it."
I frowned. "Handle what?"
"The media. The trolls. If they want a statement, I'll give them one."
I sat up straighter. "Wait—what are you planning?"
"Trust me."
That should've been enough to set off alarms in my head.
But instead, I found myself whispering, "Okay."