Pamella Blackwell was infamous for her wild ways. Everyone knew her—the queen of the party scene, always out to get guys wrapped around her finger. These days, her love life seemed more talked about than her music career.

The internet exploded into two camps: one group shipping them as a power couple and the other hating on Pamella for her past with men.

[They look good together. Who’s that guy?]

[This is the first decent guy Pamella’s been with. Her exes were all duds.]

[Isn’t he some rich businessman?]

[He’s way too good for her.]

[Can she stop flirting? It’s embarrassing.]

Curious and jealous, I checked Pamella’s social media and saw a story she posted that night. She was leaning on a man’s shoulder, with the caption, [So good to be with you again.]

My stomach twisted. My boyfriend had ditched me on our anniversary and now this? It was beyond humiliating.

I tossed my phone on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. I fell asleep pretty quickly, the whole situation weighing on me.

The next morning, I woke up to a bunch of missed calls and apology texts from Niall.

[Emilie, I'm so sorry. Please call me back, I can explain.

[Em, are you asleep?

[Please call me in the morning. I love you.]

I rolled my eyes, ignored him and got ready for work. As a journalist, I had a pretty solid rep for digging deep into high-profile names—Entertainment stars, wealthy families，you name it. Just a few days ago, I wrote an article exposing a famous wealthy heir for money laundering. and it blew up so much that the police ended up getting involved.

I used to think my life was pretty great—a solid five-year relationship with a handsome, rich man, good friends, supportive coworkers and a decent spot in my career. But I had no clue that what happened last night, combined with an upcoming work task, would soon uncover my boyfriend's affair and send me spiraling.

When I stepped outside, Niall was waiting with coffee and my favorite sandwich, trying to smooth things over. I was still annoyed and hurt, so I just grabbed them without saying a word and headed to the office.

“Emilie!” he called after me, but I was already pressing down on the accelerator, leaving him behind.

As I arrived, I overheard my coworkers discussing the viral video. Most of them didn’t know the man in the clip was my boyfriend, since they had never met him.

"Em, did you watch the video I sent you last night?" one of them asked.

"Oh, yeah, I did," I replied, trying to sound casual.

"I think it could be a good story to cover."

"Well, I'm still working on my article. Maybe you can pitch it to Margareta," I suggested.

Right on cue, Margareta walked in. "You girls must've heard about the award show clip last night. It’s a big deal! Everyone’s talking about it. We need to dig up more on the man with Pamella!"

"Yes, Mar," the others chimed in. Meanwhile, I tried to keep my cool, focusing on my own work and pushing down the jealousy gnawing at me.

"What are you working on right now, Emilie?" Margareta asked, catching me off guard.

"The fraud I mentioned a couple of weeks ago?"

"Is it done yet?" she asked, walking over.

"Not quite, but almost..." I started, but she cut me off. "Em, let’s put that on hold. We need you on this hot news first."

"Mar, you know I’m not into celebrity gossip," I protested.

"I know you prefer the serious stuff, like exposing big cases. You’ve got integrity and awards to back it up. But why not switch it up? Your trafficking story might get lost in the noise with all this buzz about Pamella and her mystery man. Give it some thought."

"I’ll think about it," I replied, not entirely convinced as she patted my back and walked away.

Before lunch, Margareta called me into her office again. "Emilie, you’re on the Pamella and mystery man story. Everything else can wait," she said as I sat down.

"But I'm almost done with my current piece. Can’t you assign this to someone else?" I asked.

"Sorry, Em. The CEO loves your work, but he wants us to play it safe for now after stirring up some big names. It’s for your own good too. Celeb stories can be fun, trust me. And no one knows who this guy is yet. He’s super private. Don’t let the competition beat us to it. This could boost your profile too,” she said.

I hesitated and said, “But what if there’s nothing going on between them? What if they’re just friends? I don’t want to spread rumors.”

Margareta smiled, “That’s exactly why we need you. Investigate, get the truth. If there’s nothing to it, you can clear their names too.”

I couldn’t really argue. This assignment was mine whether I liked it or not.

I dragged myself back to my chair and dialed up my go-to investigator, Sean Brians.

"Hey, Sean. How’s it going?"

"Not much. Who’s the new target now?" he asked.

"You saw that viral clip from the Stellar Sound Awards last night?"

"Yeah, the new couple, right?"

"Yep, that’s them. I’ll send over their details. Just keep me posted like usual," I said.

He chuckled. "Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d cover celeb scandals, Em."

I hung up, not really in the mood for jokes and sent him the addresses for Niall and Pamella.

Then, I started browsing everything I could find about Pamella online. There wasn’t much on Niall besides some articles about his start-up, but Pamella? There were tons of stories, mostly about her chaotic love life. She had dated some big names and one guy even claimed she used him before they had a very public fallout.

I scrolled through the mess, frowning, when my phone rang—it was Niall. I hesitated but picked up.

"Emilie, are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner and make up for missing our anniversary," he said.

Still angry, I wanted to turn him down, but curiosity got the better of me. I needed to hear his side of things and, more importantly, I wanted to know what was really going on between him and Pamella.

So, after work, I drove to the restaurant where Niall was already waiting, holding a bouquet and giving me that warm smile.

"Hey, beautiful."

Normally, that might’ve melted my heart, but not this time. I accepted the flowers in silence.

As we sat down and waited for our food, Niall started, "I’m really sorry I missed our anniversary dinner. I went to the awards show because my start-up supported it and I got a free pass. I only planned to stay for an hour, but then I ran into an old friend—Pamella. She’s a singer now."

He paused, probably waiting for my reaction, but I just listened, stone-faced.

"We caught up and then Pamella had a panic attack. She asked me to stay with her until the event was over. I muted my phone, so I didn’t realize you were trying to reach me. By the time I remembered, it was already 9 PM. I rushed to the restaurant, but you were gone."

I rolled my eyes, not buying it entirely. "So, what’s your relationship with Pamella?"

He shifted nervously, avoiding my gaze. "We were friends in college and we haven’t seen each other since graduation."

I pulled out my phone and showed him the viral video. "Your kissing video is everywhere. People are making a big deal about it."

Niall shook his head and replied, "Don’t listen to the internet. There’s nothing going on between us, it’s just for the show."

I wanted to believe him and for a moment, I did.

But when I got home, I started second-guessing. I called Sean, debating whether to cancel the whole thing and tell Margareta that there was nothing between Niall and Pamella. My gut was telling me to protect my relationship, but my head was still spinning.

When Sean answered, something in his tone made me doubt everything all over again.

"Emilie, I've got some bad news," Sean said over the phone. "I know he's your boyfriend because I just saw you two having dinner together."

I tensed up. Sean went on to explain that he and his team had followed Niall and Pamella that day. They had met up at a private country club, arriving in separate cars.

I gulped. "So, you know about my relationship now. Keep that under wraps, okay?"

Sean hesitated before asking, "Are you sure you want to go through with this investigation? You okay?"

I gritted my teeth and forced a calm tone. "Yeah, just keep digging. I can handle it."

My doubts about Niall's story were growing. I could not shake the feeling that there might be something more going on. Then I remembered Isaac, an old friend of Niall’s who I’d bumped into at the restaurant. I shot him a text, [Hi, Isaac. Sorry for the late message, but can we meet up tomorrow? I need to ask you something.]

He replied quickly, [Sure, let’s meet up.]

The next day at the office, I reached out to some of my media contacts, including a few who had been involved with the award show. I asked them what they knew about Pamella and Niall, their interactions, anything at all. Most of them admitted they hadn’t really paid attention until the big screen showed Pamella and that guy kissing. But one person mentioned that the two left together in the same car.

My stomach dropped I didn’t want to dig deeper, but I forced myself to stay calm. Then, Margareta called me into her office. I figured she wanted an update.

Sure enough, I was right. I hesitated before mentioning that I had found out they met at a country club.

Margareta looked at me, sensing something was off. “You’re not usually this hesitant, Emilie. You usually go all in on stories, but this one feels different. You’re holding back.”

I tried to brush it off. “I feel like an annoying paparazzi chasing after a celebrity’s love life.”

“It’s no different from other stories and this one’s going to get a lot of attention. By the way, an insider told me Pamella was at the after-party with some guy at a club. Find out if it was the same man.”

I sighed. “Alright, I’ll check it out. Send me the club details.”

“That's more like it,” she said with a smile.

My plan was to meet Isaac first, then head to the club. After work, I met up with Isaac. He got straight to the point and asked, "So, what do you want to talk about? Is this about Niall?"

I was caught off guard by how quickly he guessed. “Let’s grab a drink first,” I suggested, trying to ease into the conversation.

Once we had our drinks, I finally asked, “I was wondering if you knew anything about Pamella and Niall. You were their friend, right?”

Isaac nodded slowly. “I didn’t know Pamella that well, but Niall and Pamella dated during the first semester of college, for about a year, before she left to pursue her singing career. She was his first girlfriend.”

I was shocked. I thought they were just old friends. “Did they stay in touch after breaking up?”

“Not that I know of. Pamella was busy with her new celebrity life and boyfriends.”

I sighed. So, they did have a history and Niall conveniently left that part out. Isaac noticed my troubled expression and asked, “Did you two argue because of that video?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I admitted.

“I don’t know much about the situation, but I hope you guys can work it out. You’re good for him, unlike some women who are just after his money now that DirectDeal is a success,” he said earnestly.

I forced a smile. DirectDeal was Niall’s startup, an e-commerce platform connecting suppliers directly to buyers. It was still in its early stages when we started dating and he faced a lot of setbacks, especially from distributors.

I helped him out by writing some positive articles and using my media connections to get his brand noticed. Now, after five years, it had taken off and even secured big investments this year. The future looked bright.

After some small talk about Isaac’s family and our work, we said goodbye and I headed to the club Margareta mentioned, The Nocturne.

Once there, I asked a waitress about the award after-party. She said she wasn’t on duty that night but suggested I talk to Mary, another waitress who was there. “She’s got red hair and freckles, easy to spot,” the waitress said.

I looked around and saw a red-haired girl in an apron dragging a large trash bag toward the side door.

“Mary?” I called out, startling her.

“Who are you? If you’re here about my brother’s debt, I’ve cut ties with him years ago!” She quickly tried to walk away, still dragging the bag.

“No, no, it’s not that,” I assured her.

“So, what do you want?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m a journalist, Emilie Stohr.”

“A journalist? Oh, God, did he attack someone again? Look, I really can’t talk right now,” she said, trying to hurry off.

“No, it’s not about your brother. I just wanted to ask about a party here a few days ago.”

“A party? There are always parties here.”

“The Stellar Sound Award after-party. You know, the one Pamella Blackwell attended?”

“Oh, that one. Are you a paparazzi?”

“Well, sort of. But did you see her there?”

“Yeah, but I can’t talk about customers. Sorry, no can do,” Mary replied, trying to brush me off.

“One hundred dollars. I’ll pay you for any information.”

She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her voice. “We can’t talk here. Let’s meet somewhere else.”

We exchanged numbers and planned to meet the next day.