Chapter Eighteen: Storms Outside, Storms Within
The storm outside rattled the glass walls of Prince's penthouse, thunder rolling like the city itself was angry. Celia sat cross-legged on the couch, chewing her thumbnail as she refreshed her feed.
"Still trending," she muttered. "At this rate, I'm going to become a case study in online scandals: How to Ruin Your Life Without Leaving Your Pajamas."
Across from her, Prince didn't answer. He was staring out the window, a dark silhouette against flashes of lightning.
Celia squinted. "…Are you brooding or buffering? Can't tell."
No reaction. Typical.
She sighed, hugging a pillow. "Fine, I'll bite. Why do you care so much? I mean, yeah, Vanessa is annoying, but you look like you're plotting to end her entire bloodline."
At that, he finally turned. His face was shadowed, but his eyes… his eyes gave away more than his words ever did.
"My family has been through this before," he said quietly.
Celia blinked. She hadn't expected him to answer. "Through… what? Scandal?"
"Lies. Headlines. Blood on the front page." His jaw tightened. "And I was too young to stop it."
Her chest squeezed. For once, she didn't have a snarky comeback. "Prince…"
But before she could push further, his phone buzzed violently on the table. Lila's panicked voice crackled through the speaker:
"Darling—it's here. Vanessa dropped the bombshell."
Celia scrambled to the tablet as Prince swiped it open.
On-screen was Vanessa's post, slick with drama:
"Exhibit B: Beverly's Father's Hidden Empire."
Attached were files, grainy photos, and a voice memo of Beverly's father talking about "burying loose ends."
The captions were merciless:
"Beverly knew everything."
"Prince protecting her is proof he's involved."
"This scandal is deeper than we thought."
Celia's throat went dry. "Oh my god. She actually—"
Prince's hand closed over hers before she dropped the tablet. "It's not the full truth. She only has fragments."
Celia looked up, wide-eyed. "Fragments are enough to kill me online. Do you see these comments? Half of them want me arrested, the other half want me—" She cut herself off, heart hammering.
The storm cracked outside, lightning illuminating the raw tension on Prince's face. "Vanessa thinks she's clever," he said. "But she's just painting a target on herself."
Celia pulled her hand back, frustration bubbling. "This isn't about her anymore! This is about me—Beverly—and a father who's apparently worse than I even thought!"
Her voice cracked at the end. She hated it. She hated how Beverly's memories still clung to her, the cold dread of her father's shadow creeping up her spine.
Prince didn't move for a long moment. Then, softer than thunder, he said: "You're shaking."
She looked down. Damn it—she was.
He stepped closer, slow, deliberate. The storm howled around them, but his voice was steady. "You don't have to fight her alone."
Celia's laugh came out brittle. "What, so you'll play knight in shining armor? Pretty sure your armor is dry-clean only."
But he didn't smirk. Didn't deflect. He was just… there. Solid.
For one dizzy second, Celia thought he might actually close the distance between them — lean down, brush away the storm with something warmer.
Her heart was halfway to betraying her when—
PING. Another notification lit up the screen.
Vanessa had posted again.
"Tomorrow: the unedited tape. Beverly's father exposed in his own words. #TheEnd"
Celia's breath caught. Prince's eyes darkened.
And just like that, whatever almost-happened between them was swallowed by a new, sharper fear.
Later, when she finally crawled into bed, the storm still raged outside. But it wasn't the thunder that kept her awake.
It was the way Prince had looked at her.
Like he wanted to protect her.
Like he knew more than he was saying.
Like the storm outside wasn't half as dangerous as the one about to break tomorrow.
Celia closed her eyes, whispering into the dark:
"Beverly… I hope I'm strong enough for this."