Daryll's phone buzzed at 4:52 AM.
He was already awake. He was always awake before five — years of managing a celebrity's career had trained his body to expect disaster before sunrise. He reached for the phone, squinted at the screen, and saw the notification he'd been dreading since the day Noah Hart told him he was seeing someone.
Arianne Summers Involved in Bar Fight Outside Upscale Club.
He was at his office by five-fifteen. Monica arrived ten minutes later, her hair still damp from a shower she'd clearly taken in a hurry, her laptop bag slung over one shoulder. She didn't say good morning. She said, "It's bad. The early coverage is bad."
"How bad?"
"Some outlets are calling her violent. Others are framing it as scandal — 'Noah Hart's Mystery Woman in Late-Night Brawl.' The usual suspects are having a field day."
She set up her laptop at the adjacent workstation. "But there's something else. A video. I'm pulling it up now."
