When she received the explicit photos and video from the paparazzi, Nora Fatehi remained eerily calm. She transferred the final payment.
Then she opened the short clip—barely over ten seconds—and played it on repeat. From morning till afternoon, until her phone died.
She plugged it in and turned it on again.
That was when Nicholas Taylor finally came home, storming into the bedroom with a fury that made it seem like he wanted to tear her apart. "You had me followed? Nora, since when did you learn such cheap tricks? Hand over the photos—now."
She set down her phone and turned to face him, her gaze unwavering. Her hoarse voice was remarkably steady. "What photos?"
He met her eyes and couldn't bring himself to say it. His momentum faltered. Defeated, he sank onto the edge of the bed. "Le
