NICk POV
The courthouse reeked of coffee, nerves, and expensive perfume. Reporters swarmed the front steps like vultures in shiny suits, their cameras firing off like machine guns. I shoved through the chaos with Nara at my side.
She didn’t even flinch. No—she tossed her hair like she was strutting down a runway.
“Smile, Nick,” she purred. “They’re going to eat this up. And if I’m going down, I’m at least going to look good in tomorrow’s headlines.”
Smile? Did this woman not understand the trauma I suffered last time? They posted a photo of me looking like Gollum’s long-lost cousin in Lord of the Rings. I didn’t eat for two days. Couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that picture. Well, not today. That’s why I was wearing a face mask and sunglasses the size of dinner plat
