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.

As planned, I met Mary at a diner the next morning and she told me Pamella was completely wasted that night. She was getting pretty handsy and all over some good-looking guy Mary didn’t recognize.

I pulled up the viral video of Niall and Pamella at the award show and asked, “Does this guy look familiar?”

Mary squinted at the screen, her brows furrowing in concentration. “Yeah, that could be him. Same build, same clothes.”

“Mary, if you can get me the CCTV footage, I’ll give you more money,” I offered.

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I’ll need double for this one. I’ve gotta sweet-talk the security guy, but I’ll get you the footage of Pamella and that man.”

We agreed and Mary left. I sat there, unsure of my next move. Part of me wanted to confront Niall, but another part wasn’t sure if I should even continue digging into this mess.

When I got back to the office, I found Margareta still in a meeting with the new CEO. The guy was young and hardly ever in the city, always jetting off for business deals.

I busied myself with research for about an hour until Margareta finally came down. “Em, Mr. Cardinale wants to see you.”

My stomach did a little flip as I headed to the CEO’s office. I knocked and stepped in and we talked about the site’s progress.

“Congrats, Emilie,” he said, smiling. “I’ve heard great things about your work. Keep this up and there could be a promotion to one of our international offices in your future.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure working here.”

We exchanged polite smiles before I excused myself. I was relieved when the meeting was over—he wasn’t someone we saw around the office much and talking to him made me nervous.

Back at my desk, I worked until lunchtime. Just as I was about to take a break, Margareta popped up behind me. “Let’s grab lunch,” she suggested.

I agreed and we headed to a small hot dog stall nearby. As we ate, she asked, “How’s the story coming along?”

I forced a smile and filled her in on what I had found so far. She reminded me that I only had a few days to wrap it up.

“Do you have anything solid on the guy yet?” she asked.

I hesitated. I knew a lot about the guy—he was my boyfriend, after all—but I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal. “I’m still gathering info. So far, I’ve just got the basics—name, job, that sort of thing.”

Just then, a text buzzed on my phone. It was from Mary, which read, [Emilie, my friend told me Pamella will be staying at the hotel where she works tonight. You might want to check it out.]

I thanked Mary and then called Sean to update him on the info I got. "So, anything new on your end?" I asked.

"Niall’s been sticking to his usual routine and Pamella left town for a bit. Nothing out of the ordinary," Sean replied.

After that, I decided to call Niall to make sure. "Hey, can we meet tonight?" I asked.

“I’d love to, but I’m stuck at work late tonight,” he said.

A sense of unease settled in, but I forced myself to say, “Alright, no problem.”

I filled Margareta in on the situation before heading straight to the hotel Mary had mentioned. I found a seat in the lobby, pretending to be just another guest as I waited. Across the street, Isaac was sitting at a café, playing his part as a casual passerby.

I opened my laptop, trying to focus on writing up the story based on what I had uncovered so far. The idea of exposing Niall still gnawed at me—he was such a private person.

I tried calling him again, but it went straight to voicemail. A few minutes later, I got a text from him, which read, [Sorry, in a meeting. Can’t talk right now.]

Before I could reply, a sudden commotion erupted near the entrance. There was cheering, the flash of cameras and a flurry of footsteps. I knew instantly that Pamella had arrived. Sure enough, she stepped out of a sleek car, taking a few moments to pose for photos and sign autographs before making her way inside with her bodyguards.

The group took seats just a few rows behind me while the manager checked them in. I silently thanked myself for putting on a little disguise earlier and quickly closed all my tabs related to Pamella.

As the lobby quieted down, with only the soft background music playing, Pamella’s voice cut through. “Hey, use your eyes! Are you dumb? Why are you putting my twenty-thousand-dollar Birkin on the floor? Give me that! Moron!”

There were always rumors about her being rude to her staffs and this was just another one to add to the list. She had a well-earned reputation as a diva.

“Someone, take me to the toilet now!” Pamella barked and one of her staff quickly followed her to the restroom.

I overheard two women behind me, who I assumed were also her staff, whispering to each other.

“I’m so over her. Did you hear what she said earlier?”

“Yeah, me too. We should find another job. I heard Baye’s going on a world tour and needs more people.”

“The Queen Baye? That would be amazing. At least she’s not a flop like Pam.”

“Yeah, her career is tanking this year. She didn’t even win anything at the Stellar Sound Awards.”

“You heard about her latest victim? Poor guy.”

“Oh, that businessman? I just hope he doesn’t lose his head and fall into her trap.”

My breath caught in my throat, wondering if they were talking about someone I knew all too well.

“Shush! Just let them be. It’s showbiz,” another woman added, trying to calm the conversation.

I felt a surge of anxiety and had to fight the urge to jump into their conversation. Instead, I kept my head down, pretending to be busy on my laptop.

Then, Pamella reappeared, chatting on her phone. “Yeah, honey, see you at my room tonight, then.” She smirked as she ended the call.

The manager quickly handed out the room keys, then walked off, followed by the staff struggling with Pamella’s mountain of luggage. I exhaled in relief, taking a moment to steady myself. Then I pulled out my phone and texted Mary, [Hey, can you find out what floor Pamella is on?]

A few minutes later, Mary replied, [My friend isn’t sure if she can give out that info.]

I rolled my eyes and typed back, [Tell her I’ll give her 50 bucks.]

A pause, then Mary responded, [She wants 100.]

I sighed, but I needed that information, so I agreed. Moments later, Mary texted back, [20th floor, room 2001.]

A small smile crept onto my face. Perfect. I quickly packed up my laptop and headed over to the receptionist. “I’d like to book a room on the 20th floor, please,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

The young receptionist glanced at me for a moment, probably sizing me up, before asking for my ID and making the reservation. A few clicks later, she handed me the key. “Room 2010.”

“Thank you,” I said with a polite smile, tucking the key into my pocket. I felt a mix of excitement and nerves as I made my way to the elevator. I was getting closer to the truth, even if it meant staying in the same hotel as Pamella.

When I got to my room, I noticed it was directly across from Pamella’s. That little detail made me grin—things were lining up perfectly. I pulled out a portable mini spy camera from my bag, stuck it discreetly on my door and connected it to my laptop via Bluetooth. Now I had a clear view of the hallway and could monitor any movement right from my screen.

I settled in and waited, staring at the screen for what felt like forever. But nothing happened. The hallway remained as quiet as a grave and boredom started creeping in. I didn’t want to risk missing anything, so I picked up my phone and called Margareta.

"Hey, Mar. Where are you now?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

She didn’t buy it for a second. "Why do you want to know? I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

"Come on," I urged. "I booked a room at the hotel where Pamella’s staying. Stay here with me and we can take shifts watching the camera. You’re the one who told me to go all in, right?"

She sighed, clearly torn. "But tomorrow’s the weekend. I need some family time, you know, away from work."

I knew Margareta wouldn’t be easily convinced, so I sweetened the deal. "How about a free spa day at the hotel? My treat."

There was a pause, then a reluctant, "Okay, fine. Just send me the address."

I couldn’t help but cheer a little as I hung up the phone, knowing I had just secured some backup for the long night ahead.