Now...
Tommy pulled up to the flower shop as fast as he could after seeing the vandalism blasted online. His heart was pounding harder than the car's engine. The red paint on the windows was still fresh, an ugly smear across the brick that made his gut twist. The spray-painted words were loud, crude, and already burned into his memory.
He imagined how Evie had reacted to seeing them and felt a pull of anger in his chest.
Whoever had done this...
The street was quiet, but something in the air was off. It was as if the environment was already tainted. He parked in front, got out, and approached slowly. The shop's lights were off, but he caught a flicker of movement behind the smeared glass — there was someone inside.
"Evie?" he called, gently tapping on the door. "Evie, it's Tommy and I know you're in there."
No answer.
He exhaled, stepping back. "I'm not here to fight. I just want to see you. Please."
There was still nothing. Just silence and the hum of early traffic in the distance.
He leaned closer and peered through the fractured glass. He saw a shadow that was slight and unmoving. Evie. She was standing there, just out of reach.
"I'll wait out here all day if I have to," he said firmly. "Until you open this door. Until you tell me to leave with your own voice."
A long moment passed. Then, the lock clicked and the door opened an inch.
Evie stood there, arms folded, eyes red-rimmed but dry. "You shouldn't have come, Tommy."
"What do you mean by that? Of course, I had to after seeing what happened here! I had to know that you were okay. You haven't been home and you're not picking up my calls."
Evie sighed and leaned against the door frame.
"Now, there's all this..." He gestured vaguely at the remnants of destruction that were all around them.
Her gaze flicked past him as if scanning for paparazzi. "The damage is already done, Tommy."
"I'm not leaving you to face this alone."
Tommy knew how much this shop meant to her and it broke his heart to see her pretending to be strong. She still wouldn't let her guard down around him.
At least, not yet.
"Can you let me in?" He took a step forward and reached for her hand. Evie flinched at the contact and Tommy let his hand fall away.
"I honestly can't do this right now," Evie took a step back.
"How long are you planning on staying mad at me for? I'll apologise a million times if it means you'll forgive me!" His hurt was written all over his face.
She opened her mouth as if to respond to him when his phone rang. He pulled it out from his pocket with a frown on his face.
"What the..." He gritted out when he saw the name on the screen. He unconsciously tilted the screen away from Evie's view.
"Don't worry, I'm not trying to look at who's calling you."
"That's not it at all–" he started to explain but she interrupted.
"I'm sure it's probably your mom informing you about the bad publicity this will bring to your doorsteps. You can save yourself the headache and just walk away now," she smiled bitterly.
"You're not a headache, Evie! Just listen to me for one second, okay?"
"Goodbye, Tommy."
"Come home with me and we can sort all of this out," Tommy implored.
Evie didn't answer. She just let the door close again — not all the way, just enough to keep him outside. It was her version of a line in the sand.
Tommy stared at the closed door with his hands clenched into fists. Evie wasn't ready to talk and there wasn't anything he could do to change her mind.
***
Back in his car, Tommy sat staring at the shop for a long time, debating whether to try talking to her again. He didn't notice his phone's repeated buzzing until Alexa's name lit up the screen.
He answered tersely. "You need to stop calling me."
"Tom," Alexa cooed, "you really should be checking the news more often."
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "What are you talking about?"
"You looked very… stoic in that video. Very leadership material. Stone-faced. Heroic. I mean, not everyone can keep their cool when their fiancée's having a total meltdown."
"What video?" His voice rose in irritation. He could tell she was toying with him.
She laughed, low and amused. "Calm down, I'm sending it now."
The notification pinged a second later: Alley Argument Leaked – Tommy & Evie Explode in Public.
He opened it.
The video started with Evie shouting, but her voice had been edited to sound choppy and hysterical. It was from a couple of nights ago, when they had what had been thought to be a private argument.
"You don't care! I don't matter to you! Just leave... leave me the hell alone!"
Then a brutal cut to his face which was blank and composed. Cold.
It looked like he turned his back on her as she cried.
The caption beneath it was cutting:
"Is this the woman he's about to marry?"
His stomach dropped.
"What the hell is this, Alexa?" he demanded.
Alexa sighed wearily. "I have no idea. But your mother's people might have been working overtime. Maybe they leaked it as some sort of damage control and all that."
"Are you implying that..." Tommy trailed off in shock. "Do you think she did this?"
"I think someone did. And maybe it's worth thinking about what Evie's spiralling could cost you. And your company."
She hung up.
Tommy stared at his phone for a few minutes after the call ended, Alexa's voice still echoing in his head: "Maybe your mother's team leaked it… damage control and all that."
He tried calling his mother but she didn't pick up.
He drove straight back to the office with his jaw clenched tight with tension and his heart slamming against his ribs.
When he got inside the building, the receptionist blinked at him. She seemed suspiciously surprised to see him there.
"Um... I'm sorry, sir, but–they're in a closed session." Her stutter was painful to listen to.
"Who's 'they'?" Tommy demanded with increasing impatience.
"I was told no interruptions!"
Tommy pushed past the desk, reached the executive wing, only to find the glass doors sealed. His executive ID didn't work when he tried it the first time.
He tried the second time and the same red light blinked annoyingly. Access Denied.
He banged on the door furiously. "Open the damn door right now!"
A couple of security personnel approached, but before they could say anything, the door slid open.
Allison Mackenzie stood inside, composed and immaculate, flanked by three board members.
Tommy blinked. "Mom?"
She tilted her head, calm as a mask. "Hello, Tommy. You weren't supposed to be back yet."
***
The doors shut behind Allison like a vault.
Tommy stood frozen outside the boardroom for a beat, staring at her like she'd morphed into someone else. She was dressed in a finely tailored pantsuit with a sharp silhouette across the shoulders. Tommy knew this look. It meant that she had put on her corporate war outfit.
"You weren't supposed to be back yet?" he echoed, voice sharp with disbelief. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Mom?"
Allison offered a controlled sigh and glanced at the two executives still lingering nearby. "Give us a moment, please."
They nodded and stepped away.
She looked back at her son, her expression unreadable. "We're doing damage control."
"Damage control?" Tommy took a step forward. "By locking me out of my boardroom?"
"We're trying to protect the company," she said coolly, "from bad press, hostile buyers, and a media frenzy that's now dragging our name through every tabloid in the country."
Tommy scoffed. "Yeah, right. And so, your solution was what? Leaking a twisted video and painting Evie as unstable?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Tommy. I didn't leak anything."
"You didn't have to," he snapped. "You've got a dozen people on payroll who would do it with one word from you."
Her silence wasn't confirmation — but it wasn't denial either.
"I saw what they're doing to her," Tommy continued, chest rising and falling. "It's a calculated smear campaign. You want to discredit her so no one takes her seriously."
"I want her out of the headlines," Allison said flatly. "She's not built for this world. And neither are you, when you're attached to her."
"You're trying to sabotage her."
"I'm trying to protect you from making a mistake that could haunt your future."
He clenched his fists. "You mean your future."
She didn't flinch.
A quiet beat stretched between them.
Finally, Allison adjusted her jacket, turned, and pushed open the boardroom door. "Come inside. We'll talk options."
Reluctantly, Tommy followed.
Inside, the energy was cold and professional. The board members didn't look surprised to see him anymore. Rather, they seemed resigned.
One of them, Mr. Haynes, leaned forward. "Tommy. We're glad you're here. We've discussed possible responses to the media firestorm."
"And? What have you come up with during your brainstorming session?" Tommy asked sarcastically.
"We're asking for a formal statement clarifying that the company doesn't endorse her views or behaviour," another said. "A neutral separation. It protects our stock from further volatility."
"You want me to denounce the woman I love?" Tommy shook his head. "Absolutely not."
A tense silence fell. Then Allison spoke again but her tone was much smoother now.
Strategic.
"There's an alternative," she said. "You don't have to say anything negative about her. You just need to pivot public attention elsewhere."
Tommy narrowed his eyes. "How?"
"We want you to co-lead a new PR initiative. Something like a family-facing project or goodwill campaign aimed at corporate transparency and rebuilding trust."
"With whom?"
She didn't blink. "With Alexa Donovan. She'll serve as the Donovan family liaison."
Tommy stared at her.
"You're not serious."
"It's just PR, Tommy. You don't have to like her. You just have to stand beside her."
He laughed once, and it sounded dry and bitter. "So, you won't ask me to betray Evie. You'll just use Alexa to bury her."
"Think of it as neutralizing a threat before it spreads."
He turned toward the windows, breathing hard.
Allison stepped closer. "This is the cleanest option you'll get. No press conference. No direct blame. Just a redirect."
Tommy didn't answer.
But something in his silence was cracking.