fallin' all in you | c.l

Twenty-Three.

For the sake of her own sanity, Mila had kept a low profile, avoiding checking her personal social media accounts, and keeping focused on her work. Charles' PR manager had advised not to address anything and to stay quiet, letting the noise die down. The last thing they wanted was to give the tabloids any fuel.

It was sound and simple advice. There was no problem keeping to those instructions, considering Mila wasn't big on her socials anyway.

That didn't mean her curiosity didn't itch to read about what others were saying and how much the internet sleuths had found out. It clawed at her, begging for answers.

She had been doing so well, resisting giving in to the urge to see what people were saying. It was blatantly obvious that going down that rabbit hole would end with her in tears. Her ironclad will could only last so long.

Then her fingers stumbled, and down the cliff she went. It was wrong of her, but how could she resist when the title of the first article she saw happened to hit her like a gut punch.

Charles Leclerc's New Gold-Digger Girlfriend? Everything we know about the mystery woman who seems to be jumping around Monaco's social circles.

Her stomach twisted into knots as her eyes skimmed the article. It was everything she had feared from the beginning of her interest in Charles. Though, it didn't scare her as much as she thought it would. The article's timing was less than ideal considering the closing of the actual wound was quite fresh, but she knew it wouldn't bleed her dry.

The so-called "everything" claimed in the article was nothing more than a sensationalized summary of her life the last few years: her fairytale romance with Peter, the high-profile engagement, the nasty fallout, and the alleged affair with Charles.

The milestones were the truth, though the rest of the article was indeed bullshit. The gossip blogs always had such a way of lacing the truth with insidious lies. Unsurprisingly, she was painted the villain. Mila had apparently been charming Charles Leclerc while still engaged, pursuing him despite his relationship status. They had even laid out claims about a promiscuous past.

It was ridiculous, but that didn't stop her chest from aching.

Mila knew better than to let words from faceless strangers affect her. It should have been laughable. She wished she could have. The problem was she knew her skin was a bit too paper-thin when it came to her self-worth. She couldn't just brush it off.

She swallowed hard and locked her phone. No one needed to know she had read it. In fact, she refused to let on that she had read anything at all.

Keeping her curious perusing of the gossip sites a secret was easy. It was the silence that had never been her friend. She could push the invading thoughts down, pretend none of the words mattered, but the weight continued to linger. They filled the empty spaces in her chest, squeezing so hard she couldn't shake them off.

Admittedly, keeping to herself was starting to take a toll on Mila.

Her friends had taken notice of that fact, though. Of course they did. Which is exactly how she found herself at Gabriel's place for a casual night in. At least, that's how it had been advertised.

Gabriel, ever the saint, had pulled out all the stops—home-cooked food, expensive bottles of Bordeaux, and a deck of cards that had been long abandoned in favor of something more chaotic.

Amidst their busy schedules, all five of them—Mila, Alix, Gabriel, Luca, and Charles—had managed to gather, taking a minute to pause on their hectic lives. It was exactly what the doctor had called for, except it was starting to feel more like an intervention wrapped in wine and laughter.