Chapter 20 TO HOLD A GRUDGE
Claire Montrose didn't report gossip; she weaponized it.
At thirty-nine, she had clawed her way through the ranks of society reporting, leaving a trail of exposed affairs, shattered reputations, and silenced publicists behind her.
she had one rule: never forget a grudge.
The Sinclairs? Hers was personal.
They'd shut her out of events, denied her interviews, and treated her like the help. Ethan Sinclair, in particular, carried that signature Sinclair coldness, arrogant, calculating, impossible to read. And now, after years of silence, the world suddenly believed he had brought his ex, Vivienne, on his honeymoon?
Claire had finally seen her opening, she finally had something worth blowing wide open. Ethan Sinclair, cold-blooded billionaire and media ghost, had allegedly brought his ex-girlfriend along on his honeymoon. It was scandalous. Risky. Messy. And Claire was ready to set it on fire.
She smiled, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across her face. This was it. This was the moment the perfect Sinclair image would crack.
But then, her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen. A breaking update from one of her trusted contacts.
Her eyes narrowed as she read:
BREAKING: "Ethan S Shuts Down Rumors, Ex Was Never on His Honeymoon"
Without thinking, she snatched her phone and dialed Vivienne.
"Pick up," she muttered under her breath.
Vivienne answered on the third ring, her voice already sharp. "What?"
"What were you thinking, Vivienne?" Claire snapped. "You said he was in Rome with you. Now you're all over the internet looking like a liar."
Vivienne's breath hitched, then came the fury. "Don't call me a liar, Claire. He was in Rome! He was with me!"
Claire scoffed. "Then why is he on live TV from Greece, denying you ever being invited?"
That only fueled Vivienne's rage.
"I don't care what he said!" she shouted. "He was in Rome. I know what I saw. He's just trying to cover it up."
"Girl, you need to get your plans together before going after the Sinclairs," Claire said angrily, her voice sharp with frustration.
Vivienne, fired back. She insisted there were other paparazzi outside the mansion that saw everything. Her voice trembled with rage and desperation.
Claire knew Vivienne wasn't lying; what angered her wasn't the story itself, but how poorly Vivienne had executed it. The plan was weak, rushed, and sloppy. If you were going after a family like the Sinclairs, you needed precision.
Vivienne was already pissed. She snapped that she was on her way to catch a flight and ended the call without waiting for a response. Claire stared at her phone, jaw tight, frustration boiling just beneath the surface.
Claire, still fuming, logged into her anonymous account, fingers flying furiously across the keyboard. She flooded the comment sections under every major blog post and news article she could find. Over and over, she insisted that the Sinclairs had been in Rome that Vivienne wasn't lying and that the entire press conference was just a carefully staged cover-up.
"Open your eyes. He was in Rome before Greece."
"The Sinclairs own the media, of course they're covering it up."
"Vivienne wasn't lying. They silenced the story before it spread."
Post after post, she pushed the narrative, trying to steer the conversation, trying to plant just enough doubt to get people talking. For a moment, a few comments popped up in agreement:
"Honestly, something feels off."
"I believe it. The rich always bury the truth."
"There were whispers about him being seen in Rome before. Don't forget that."
But then came the wave the flood of people who had already decided whose side they were on.
"LOL girl give it up. Nobody believes you."
"Haters stay mad. Ethan's living rent-free in your mind."
"Vivienne lied. She's embarrassed and so are you."
"Sinclair dropped facts. You're just salty it ruined your narrative."
"Stop spreading nonsense. Some of us actually admire that man."
Her comments were quickly buried beneath emojis, GIFs, and fan accounts defending Ethan with full force. It didn't matter how many posts she made the public had clung tightly to Ethan's calm, polished denial. He looked like the victim, the professional. She looked like noise.
Claire stared at the screen, jaw clenched, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. They were calling her a liar. A hater. A desperate woman trying to hold onto a crumbling story.
But Claire knew what she knew.
And if words wouldn't do the job proof would.
Claire knew that to shift public attention back in her favor, speculation wouldn't be enough; she needed facts. Tangible, undeniable proof. As someone with deep influence in the social media world, she understood how quickly the tide could turn with the right image.
If she could get photos of Ethan and Lena together in Rome, something that contradicted the official story, everything would change.
Without wasting time, she picked up her phone and called a reporter she trusted to be discreet. If anyone had access to the kind of photos she needed, it was him.
Claire dialed the reporter's number, her tone casual as the call connected.
"So," she began smoothly, "I'm guessing you've seen all the noise around Ethan Sinclair lately? Quite the performance at that press conference."
The reporter remained noncommittal. "Mm-hmm."
She kept going, trying to bait him. "I mean, verveine was definitely with him. You'd think someone would've caught them together before that whole Greece stunt."
Silence.
Her patience thinned.
"Do you have photos of them?" she asked, more direct now. "In Rome?"
Still, the reporter said nothing. That was enough of an answer.
Claire's eyes narrowed as the silence on the other end dragged.
"Why are you suddenly so quiet?" she asked sharply. "Don't forget you owe me more favors than I can count."
There was a pause, then the reporter finally spoke, his voice lower, more cautious than usual.
"Claire... you know I respect you. But this isn't some influencer cheating scandal or a C-list affair. This is the Sinclairs. They're not just rich, they're connected and powerful. People don't poke around them unless they're ready to deal with what follows."
Claire narrowed her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "So, what? You're scared?"
"I'm saying be careful. A photo's not worth becoming someone's problem. Especially not theirs."
She didn't reply immediately. The line crackled with tension.
Then, without another word, she ended the call.
Fine. If he wouldn't talk, she'd find someone else who would. The Sinclairs could bury stories but not all of them. Not if she moved fast.
She dialed another reporter's number, one she'd worked with a few times in the past eager, hungry, and usually willing to trade a story for reach. When he picked up, she kept her tone light, casual at first, chatting about industry gossip and recent media stunts.
But after a few minutes, she shifted.
"So listen," she said smoothly, "any chance you've seen photos of Ethan Sinclair and his wife in Rome? I hear some interesting things are circulating."
The line went silent for half a second.
Then click.
He cut the call without a word.
Claire stared at her phone, lips pressed into a thin line.
The Sinclair name was enough to make people quite.