Paparazzi Problems

Lex walked back to the brownstone, turning the corner he spotted the small crowd gathered outside his door. Cameras flashed.

Paparazzi.

He sighed, already irritated. He had expected some attention after the tabloid story, but this was worse than usual. Then his gaze flicked up—to the second-floor window. Rose.

She was standing just behind the curtain, half-hidden, watching the scene unfold.

Lex exhaled sharply as the shouting began.

"Lex! Over here!"

"Are you dating Rose Russo?"

"What happened to her eye?"

"Did you hit her?"

That one made him pause mid-step. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes went cold as he turned toward the reporter who had said it.

"You wanna repeat that?" His voice was low, sharp enough to cut.

The man hesitated, but another picked up where he left off. "We just want to know what happened! She showed up at your place with a bruise on her face—"

Lex kept walking, ignoring them as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside.

A final question followed him. "If nothing happened, why hide here?"

He didn't bother answering.

Once inside, Lex locked the door behind him, shutting out the noise. The house was quiet, but he could feel the tension in the air.

Rose was still by the window, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

"I don't want them to bother my mom," she said before he could ask. "So I stayed here."

"You made the right call," he said simply. "We'll handle it."

She gave a small, exhausted smile. "Yeah? And how do we do that?"

Lex smirked. "Let them talk. Then make them regret it."

For a moment Lex thought about moving Rose to a safer locations but he changed his mind. Lex pulled out his phone and dialed Jason. The call barely rang twice before Jason picked up, his voice laced with amusement.

"Lexington. I was wondering when you'd call."

Lex leaned against the counter, rubbing his temple. "How bad is it?"

Jason let out a short laugh. "Bad enough. Your front gate's practically a red carpet for the tabloids. Rose's black eye is the headline of the hour, and—oh, here's my favorite—'Lex Latham: Music Mogul or Manhattan's Most Dangerous Boyfriend?'"

Lex exhaled through his nose. "Fantastic."

"You should've called me earlier," Jason continued. "We could've gotten ahead of it."

Lex glanced toward Rose, who had moved away from the window and was now sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. "I had other priorities."

Jason hummed knowingly. "So, what's the move? Statement? Press conference? Or do we just let the rumors run wild?"

Lex's jaw tightened. "We control the narrative. I want you to put out a statement. Keep it short—no denials, no confirmations. Just something that makes them look stupid for assuming anything."

Jason clicked his tongue. "Got it. I'll have a draft in an hour. "

Lex ended the call and dropped his phone onto the counter, rubbing his eyes. The weight of everything pressing down on him. 

He turned toward the living room, where Rose was sitting on the couch, her phone in hand, her back against the cushions, trying to distract herself from the chaos outside. Lex didn't like seeing her like this. 

He stepped into the living room and leaned against the wall, watching her for a moment.

"You should get some rest," he said, his voice softer than it had been earlier. 

Rose didn't look up right away, but her fingers stilled on her phone. "I'm fine," she replied, but the quiet tone in her voice told him she wasn't.

Lex sighed, pushing off the wall and walking over to the couch. He sat down beside her, a little space between them but close enough that she could feel his presence, like a silent offer of comfort. 

"Lex," Rose said quietly. "While I was waiting for you. I sort of had a dream."

"What about?"

Rose hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I don't know. It was just… so real."

"Tell me."

She swallowed hard, her lips trembling slightly. "I was in this dark place. Trent was there. He was… he was strangling me. I don't even know how we got there. We were fighting, and I was saying something—something about you."

Lex leaned in slightly, his concern deepening. "What were you saying?"

Rose paused, her breath hitching as if the memory of the dream was still gripping her. "I kept saying 'Lex needs a chance.' I don't know why. It's just all I could say. My jade bralet… it broke, he was too strong. I couldn't breathe. I was dying, Lex. I could feel it."

The silence between them was thick, her words hanging heavy in the air.

"Rose," Lex whispered, his heart tightening at the raw vulnerability in her voice. He reached for her hand, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. "You're not dying. Not on my watch."

She didn't respond, but her hand tightened in his for a brief second, as if to hold onto that thread of reassurance.

"You get some sleep," he said softly, his voice steady, grounding. "We'll figure the rest out when you wake up."

Rose nodded again, her eyelids heavy. "Okay."

Lex stood, giving her a moment to herself, before he turned to leave the room. He was about to walk out when he stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder.

"I'm here, Rose," he said, his tone firm.

She gave him a small, grateful smile.