The fallout from Jace’s i********: post was biblical.
Within forty-eight hours, Sterling Athletics’ stock soared by twelve percent. The media dubbed us "The King and Queen of the Gridiron," and the vicious "sugar baby" narrative dissolved into absolute reverence. I wasn’t a gold digger; I was the ultimate prize. And Jace wasn't a reckless kid; he was the star quarterback who had the confidence to claim the most powerful woman in the industry.
But while the world was celebrating, Liam Vance was suffocating in the wreckage of his own ego.
It was Thursday morning, exactly three days since I had walked out the back door of The Apex.
"Miss Sterling," Evelyn said, stepping into my office with a severe expression. "I just received an alert from our media monitoring team. Liam Vance has called
