The moment we stepped out of the café, chaos hit us like a tidal wave. Blinding flashes exploded around us, and a swarm of voices launched a relentless assault.
"Ethan, is it true you're engaged to Alyssa Lancome?"
"Miss Alcove, are you just a rebound or part of a publicity stunt?"
"Ethan, do you have a comment about the accusations regarding your past?"
The questions landed like physical blows, each one sharper than the last. My legs locked mid-step, as if someone had poured cement over my designer heels. My chest tightened as the sea of reporters pressed closer, their microphones shoving into our space like invasive vines with tendrils.
What the heck is this? Who called them? Was it Alyssa? Her family?
I didn't have time to think before a reporter nearly tripped over himself to thrust his camera into my face.
"Miss Alcove, how does your family feel about Ethan's supposed scandals?"
