Laura's POV
I stared at him for a while, contemplating taking his hand. What was he trying to do? Take me from here and kill me?
He cleared his throat. "Since you're already in my black book, I would advise you to take my hand to avoid further embarrassment," he said with a sharp tone.
I reluctantly took his hand, and he immediately walked me out of the crowd. Camera clicks followed as we walked toward the Bugatti. He opened the door for me, and I sheepishly entered. He walked around to the other side and sat beside me with a frown.
He glared at me for a second and focused back on his iPad. All this while, my breath was held as I tried to wonder where they were taking me.
As if he read my mind, he looked outside the window, as if he was disgusted by my presence.
"We're going to the Villa. And like I said, to talk," he finally broke the silence.
I nodded in agreement, knowing exactly which villa he was talking about. It was one of a kind, almost like a modernized castle with rich Italian interiors. It was owned by one of the Sloans. I had no idea which Sloan owned it, but I knew the person must be the richest in the family to own that type of exquisite villa.
I turned on my phone as numerous notifications kept popping up. I checked the first ones, which were from Rena:
"Are you okay?"
"Should I pick you up?"
"Tell me where you are—let me pick you up. Right now you're not safe. I think the world is against you right now."
"Why did you follow Eric outside?"
"Laura, text me if you can. I'm worried."
I sucked in a deep breath and replied to Rena's numerous messages with shaky hands.
"I'm okay for now. I'll call you when I can."
Checking my blog page, my eyes grew watery with unshed tears at the amount of hate I received.
#GaysAreHuman#
#DeathForLauraKarma#
#BringLauraKarmaDown#
The hateful comments increased my pain, and my skin turned excessively pale.
**I pray she dies for putting an innocent man in this situation.**
**You shouldn't be breathing or even living after putting such a young man in this position.**
**You deserve to die!**
**Justice for the Sloans and Averys**
I awkwardly unpacked my hair and let it fall. I turned toward the window and let the tears fall uncontrollably. I quickly wiped them before Eric noticed.
What had I gotten myself into? How had so many people come to hate me? I could hear the voices of the crowd in my head. How could thousands of people want me dead?
"How does it feel being a celebrity?" Eric asked, drawing me from my thoughts.
I blinked as I tried to find the right answer. What kind of question was this? No, I couldn't answer him. After all, with or without the rumors, his life would continue, but mine would remain this way or even get worse with the amount of hatred surrounding me. I had suffered for years to build this blog and its audience, only for everything to go down the drain.
"Well, since we're going to be working together, I suggest you start talking to me. I have zero tolerance. Anything can make me angry," he warned, stressing his last words.
I sat up with a shrug. "Well, it's fine to be a celebrity," I replied.
Eric grinned widely. "Nice. I knew you were a hardcore liar, but rest assured that the man sitting beside you will break you," he replied, his last words screaming impending doom.
We remained silent for a while. After what felt like eternity, we arrived at the villa. I sucked in a deep breath as I looked at the villa in awe. I had never seen such a beautiful sight before, not even in movies. I wished I could explore the place more, but Eric took me by my wrist and literally dragged me to a room.
The room was painted white with a TV and a marble round table accompanied by leather chairs of the same color. Damien and a blonde girl sat on one side, both shooting cold glares at me.
Eric pulled out a chair and ordered me to sit. "We'll be waiting for the last person," he said.
Even though he hated me, he still managed to treat me like a lady. He had literally opened the door for me.
My phone pinged with a notification. It was from an unknown number. It was a picture of a knife pressed against my mother's neck, accompanied by a message that read:
"Until the meeting is over and we have determined the outcome, this knife will be on her neck. If you expose us, we will slit your mother's throat." I held the phone tighter as I tried to control my emotions.
"Phones should be turned off," Damien said with his cold eyes on me. I nodded and turned off the phone.
The door suddenly opened a few minutes later, and the last person entered with an iPad.
"Hi, I'm Tyler," he said and stretched out his hand for a handshake. Finally, I had met someone normal.
He opened his tablet, switched on the television, and began to talk.
"From what I gathered about Miss Karma: she has a mother and a brother. The mother hasn't been around for a while, but the brother attends Harvard University," Tyler suddenly announced and showed them photos of my brother. "From what was gathered, Mr. Larry Karma is a drug addict while Miss Karma seems to sell her body to older men," he said and turned to me with a smile.
I clenched my fists as I tried hard to control myself. So this was what they came to show me? A bunch of lies. My brother would never do drugs. He's asthmatic, for crying out loud.
"It's a lie. My brother doesn't do drugs," I summoned the courage to fight back.
"And I'm not gay," Damien replied as he lit a cigarette.
Tyler smiled at me. "Well, let's see," he said sarcastically and made a slide that showed a photo of Larry, my brother, lying on the ground with drugs scattered around him. "What do you have to say?" he asked.
I shook my head in disbelief. "That's not my brother!"
Tyler smiled. "Aww, the sister can vouch for the brother. I think I need to build this kind of trust with my sister so she'll tell me things like this," he said sarcastically.
"Don't blame your sister. Once she spills something out, the world will know about it," Eric replied with a mocking tone.
Tyler shot him a warning glare. "Hey, Sloan, be careful," he warned. "So back to business. This is not your brother, as you said, but I made it look like your brother." He said, and I watched as he changed the photo to the original, which was someone entirely different from my brother. "Now look at this photo and tell me if it rings a bell."
He showed a photo of a girl tied up, performing oral sex on a guy. The girl wasn't me—I was sure of that—but the person looked just like me.
"That's not me. I'm not the one in the photo," I countered.
"But it's true that you tend to date men older than you!" he barked.
"The smallest age gap I've had was eight years, but I don't have anything against age gaps," I tried to explain.
"Good," Eric said and walked up to me. He pulled out a box from his pocket.
"That's why you're going to date and marry me," he said.
"What? Marry who?" I asked him in surprise.
"Marry me. Put this ring on. Tomorrow, you're going to tell the press that Bella cheated on me and we started dating. When Bella found out, she tried to separate us, and when she couldn't, she blackmailed you to upload those photos. This will make me seem like I hate you, but we've already reconciled," he explained.
What the hell? How had I gotten myself into this kind of mess?
"And if I don't?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Those photos will be online. I'll end your career and make sure you don't get a job anywhere. And be ready to make your brother kiss his education goodbye," he threatened, his last words striking a chord in my head. "Harvard doesn't accept drug addicts. He'll be expelled, and I'll hunt you until you die," he warned further.
Fear crept in. The Sloans were powerful. He could ruin my life. I watched as he took my hand and slipped the diamond ring onto my finger.
"Now take a photo of it and post it on your blog!" he ordered. "Caption it: 'Soon to be Laura Sloan.'"
I did as he instructed. I took a photo of it and captioned it "Soon to be Laura Sloan."