For the next month and a half—that’s exactly what I did.
From parties to gallery openings, lunch dates to photo-ops in the snow, the three of us did it all. I became the puppet-master, orchestrating their every move—sometimes with their enthusiastic cooperation, other times with less willingness.
In many respects, it was my magnum opus. From a PR perspective, it was a dream scenario, and I spared no effort to ensure its success.
I strategically leaked stories to the press, arranged staged walks through Central Park, meticulously coordinated outfits to look effortlessly matched. I even went as far as calling up paparazzi precisely when Nicholas arrived at Elisia’s apartment with a bouquet of flowers—flowers I had hastily purchased at a gas station just minutes earlier.
Yes, professional
