Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

But the reporters were relentless, not giving Lizetta a moment's peace. One particularly brash male reporter, seemingly irked by his thwarted attempts, got physical and shoved Lizetta hard. Lizetta felt a rough hand grab her collar, causing her to stumble and her head to collide with a nearby camera stand.

Scowling, she was about to reach for her phone when suddenly the pressure on her vanished.

A cry of pain echoed through the air.

The man who had been manhandling her was sent flying, knocking into others and causing a commotion.

"Where did you get hit? Let me see!"

A familiar, deep male voice, filled with evident concern, came from above.

Lizetta stiffened for a moment before looking up.

Standing before her was a face she hadn't seen in ages, a man tall and imposing, his presence as commanding as ever.

It was Remington.

Lizetta had anticipated they might cross paths upon her return, but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

Why was he here?

Without dwelling on it, she quickly composed herself and shook her head at Remington.

"I'm fine."

Remington's gaze lingered on her slightly reddened forehead before he turned to face the male reporter and the crowd with a cold stare. "Didn't you hear her? She said to back off," he growled.

"Mr. Dashiell..."

Someone recognized Remington, and their face went pale. They, and others who sensed the shift in mood, backed away.

"Can we get in the car, please?"

Remington turned back to Lizetta, his previously icy demeanor melting away.

Lizetta noticed Cedric pull the car

around. It struck her how lon

had ghrased his question,

unfamiliar but pleasant surprise.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

She glanced at Remington and nodded, then pulled Yolanda toward Cedric's car.

Opening the door, she let Yolanda in first but didn't follow. Instead, she closed the door behind her.

Turning around, Remington was approaching. Seeing her outside the car, his heart sank a little, tinged with disappointment.

Did she still not want to see him, to share a space with him?

"I need to ask them some questions," she said before Remington could suggest Cedric take them while he arranged another pickup. Remington paused, then realization dawned. Lizetta was referring to the reporters.

A spark of hope flickered in his eyes. His lips curved slightly as he said, "Okay, I'll stay with you."

Under the dim parking lot lights, his

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face seemed more defined, his features sharper, and the brief flicker of joy in his deep, dark eyes stood out starkly.

Lizetta averted her gaze, murmuring, "Thank you."

She did need his help. The reporters clearly wouldn't dare to mess with Remington and had scattered like birds.

Without him, Lizetta knew she couldn't make them listen.

"Everyone, stop right there!"

With a tone that was neither too harsh

com too gentle, Remington's

command had the fleeing reporters turning back, their faces a mix of fear and resignation.

With a newfound humility, they awaited their questioning, a stark contrast to their earlier arrogance.

Remington's gaze swept over them, his voice cold. "Answer the questions properly. I won't pursue what happened just now."

Then, turning to Lizetta, he softened, "Go ahead, ask."

The reporters turned to Lizetta, visibly trembling.

In that moment, Lizetta oddly felt like she was the mob boss's lady.