Chapter 14 – Shattered Reflections
1171 Words
The city was restless.
Every billboard, every news feed, every trending hashtag hummed with the same anticipation: Veronica Steele’s exclusive tell-all interview.
It wasn’t just gossip. It was blood in the water. And the world was circling for a feast.
From Nathan’s penthouse window, Cezy could see the glow of screens across the skyline, restaurants and cafes packed with people waiting to hear what the beloved socialite would say. It was surreal. A woman she had barely known—except as venom personified—now held her reputation, her dreams, her entire existence, in her manicured hands.
She pressed her palms together in her lap to keep them from shaking.
Nathan stood a few feet away, his phone pressed to his ear, voice a low growl. “No, cancel the stockholder’s dinner. We’re not feeding this circus. Handle the press blackout—yes, I don’t care how.”
He ended the call and turned toward her. His expression was carved from steel, but his eyes… his eyes were softer, a storm trying to hide its lightning.
“You don’t have to watch this,” he said quietly.
Cezy shook her head. “If I don’t, I’ll hear about it anyway. If she’s going to destroy me, I want to see the knife coming.”
Nathan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he picked up the remote and flicked the screen on.
---
The studio lights bathed Veronica Steele in a halo of glamour. She looked perfect—an ivory dress hugging her frame, diamonds glinting at her throat, her makeup flawless. She leaned delicately against the host’s chair as though the entire world were her confidante.
“Veronica,” the interviewer began in a solemn tone, “thank you for joining us. I know this can’t be easy.”
Veronica sighed theatrically, brushing a tear from her eye. “It isn’t. But people deserve the truth. They’ve seen the clips, the insults, the way I was humiliated in front of my peers. What they don’t know is the real story behind it all.”
The camera zoomed closer.
“I loved Nathan,” Veronica whispered. “For years. Everyone knew we were meant to be. But then… she came along.”
The host tilted his head. “She?”
“Cezy Celina,” Veronica said the name like venom. “An opportunist who saw a lonely man and seized her chance. I can’t blame her for wanting more than she had—she grew up with nothing. But to pretend it was love? To take him away from me, after everything Nathan and I shared—”
Her voice cracked. Perfectly rehearsed.
The audience gasped. The host leaned forward sympathetically. “So you believe Cezy manipulated Nathan?”
Veronica’s lips quivered. “Of course she did. Nathan is brilliant, but even brilliant men have weaknesses. She saw his heart, his kindness… and she twisted it. And now she parades herself as if she’s his equal. But Nathan deserves so much more than someone who uses him as a stepping stone.”
The screen cut briefly to commercials, but the damage was done.
Cezy felt the words like blades. Her throat closed, her chest tightened until she couldn’t breathe. She gripped the edge of the couch, nails digging into the fabric.
Nathan switched the screen off.
“That’s enough,” he snapped.
But Cezy’s eyes stayed fixed on the blackened reflection staring back at her. Her reflection. The girl everyone now believed was a thief, a liar, a parasite.
---
By the next morning, Veronica’s interview had fractured the world into camps.
#TeamVeronica trended across platforms, fans flooding social media with posts declaring their loyalty to the wronged socialite. Comment threads seethed with vitriol toward Cezy—accusing her of being a gold-digger, a talentless nobody, a stain on Nathan’s reputation.
But another voice rose too, quieter but persistent: #StandWithCezy. Admirers who replayed the gala video and saw something different—not a manipulator, but a girl who had finally spoken her truth.
The battle was merciless. Every photo of Cezy was dissected, every old audition clip dragged out, memes crafted, speculations spun like wildfire.
She couldn’t step online without drowning in noise.
She sat curled on Nathan’s sofa, knees hugged to her chest, staring at her muted phone. The screen glowed with thousands of unread messages, her name echoing louder than it ever had in her life.
Dalia burst into the penthouse, her presence like a storm. “It’s a mess,” she declared without preamble. “The studios are calling me nonstop. Some want to cut ties. Some want to cast you just to ride the wave. But none of them care about you, Cezy. They care about clicks. And Veronica just turned herself into a saint while painting you the devil.”
Cezy swallowed. “So what do I do?”
“You fight back,” Dalia said firmly. “You don’t let her control the story.”
Before Cezy could answer, Nathan stepped forward, his voice like thunder. “No. We shut her down. Lawyers, injunctions, defamation suits. She won’t speak another word without choking on it.”
Dalia folded her arms. “And that makes Cezy look worse—like she can’t stand on her own without Nathan Cross swooping in to rescue her.”
“Better that than letting her be torn apart by wolves,” Nathan growled.
Cezy stood suddenly, her voice trembling but clear. “No. Both of you—stop.”
They froze.
Her hands shook as she pressed them against her chest. “I’m tired of being talked about like I’m not even here. Like I’m some pawn you two are moving on a board. This is my life. My dream. My name. If Veronica wants to call me an opportunist, fine. But I won’t let the world think she gets the last word.”
Nathan’s eyes burned into hers, torn between anger and admiration. “And what do you plan to do, Cezy? Sit in front of a camera and bare your soul to strangers who already hate you?”
“Yes,” she said softly. Then louder: “Yes, Nathan. I’ll speak for myself. I’ll tell them who I really am. Not a contract star. Not a gold-digger. Cezy Celina.”
Dalia’s lips curved into a slow smile. “You might be onto something, darling.”
---
The offer came sooner than Cezy expected.
That evening, her phone buzzed with a message from a rival network. “We’d like to invite you for a live interview tomorrow night. No restrictions. Say whatever you want.”
Her stomach dropped. It was reckless. Dangerous. Walking into a firestorm with no shield.
But when she looked at Nathan—his jaw tense, his fists clenched as though he could fight the entire world for her—she knew she couldn’t let him. Not this time.
She had to fight for herself.
“Tomorrow night,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”
- Writer
