I gasped in shock.
The air left my lungs in a rush. My hand tightened around my phone so hard my knuckles went white. I sat up straight on the couch, pizza forgotten, exhaustion forgotten, everything forgotten except the words blazing on my screen.
'Patrick announces he is pregnant for hockey superstar'
My heart stopped.
I stared at the headline. Read it again. And again. And again.
Patrick. Pregnant.
For Rhett.
No. No, that couldn't be right. That couldn't be real.
I tapped the article with a shaking finger and waited for it to load. The screen glowed in the dark of my apartment, casting pale light across my face.
The article was short. Barely more than a few paragraphs. But the words felt like knives.
"Patrick, the omega at the center of the ongoing scandal involving Frostvale Titans star Rhett Vale, announced today via social media that he is expecting the athlete's child. Sources close to Patrick say he is approximately eight weeks along and has no plans to terminate the pregnancy. Representatives for Rhett Vale have not yet responded to requests for comment."
There was a photo. Patrick, holding his flat stomach, looking tearful and fragile and very, very blonde.
I felt sick.
How crazy does someone have to be to go to such lengths?
This wasn't just a few photos and some vague social media posts anymore. This was a baby. A whole human being. Whether it was real or not — and I had my doubts — the public was going to believe it.
They were going to believe that Rhett Vale had secretly dated this omega. That he'd gotten him pregnant. That he was a liar and a deadbeat and everything the media had accused him of being.
I thought about Rhett in his kitchen, stirring sauce, telling me he'd never even met Patrick. The frustration in his voice. The way his jaw had tightened when he said the name.
"I don't know him. I have never met him."
I believed him. I still believed him.
But believing him wasn't going to stop the internet from burning him alive.
I scrolled down to the comments. I shouldn't have. I knew I shouldn't have. But I couldn't stop.
"I always knew he was trash."
"Poor Patrick. That alpha needs to be held accountable."
"Another rich athlete getting away with whatever he wants."
"Someone should take his team away from him."
"This is why people hate alphas."
I threw my phone across the couch like it had burned me.
My heart was racing. My hands were shaking. I pressed my palms against my eyes and tried to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
It didn't help.
Rhett was going to be destroyed by this. His career. His reputation. Everything he'd worked for. All of it was going to crumble, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
What the hell did he mean by this? These comments made no sense. Rhett wasn't like this. He could never sleep with or even go out with his stalker. How far was Patrick going to take this? Did he realize that Rhett was also human?
This was absolutely crazy. I picked up my phone again.
I decided to drop a comment and also reply to most of the hard comments. They looked like Patrick paid them to write this. I knew most of them were Rhett fans and haters, but I still refused to believe that his fans would believe this nonsense.
How gullible are they?
I wasn't even buying this. It made no sense. The timeline didn't add up. The photos were obviously staged. And Patrick's story had changed three times since the scandal first broke.
I started typing.
'That's absolutely impossible when you're actually stalking him'
My thumb hovered over the send button. I could feel the anger burning in my chest — hot and righteous and maybe a little stupid. Posting this wouldn't help. It would probably make things worse. It would get lost in the sea of comments, and no one would read it, and even if they did, they wouldn't care.
But I wanted to do something. I wanted to fight back. I wanted to defend him, even if he didn't know I was doing it.
I took a breath.
And then my phone rang.
The screen changed. The comments disappeared. And it was a call from a strange number I didn't recognize.
My heart stopped for the second time that night.
Who is calling me at this hour?
I almost ignored it. Now wasn't the time. I wanted to fight trolls on the Internet. I wanted to defend Rhett. I wanted to do something useful with my anger.
But something made me answer.
"Hello?"
For a moment, there was nothing. Just breathing. Just the faint sound of static on the line.
Then his voice.
"I accept the deal."
Rhett.
My breath caught.
"I can't deal with this anymore," he said.
His voice was rough. Tired. Angry. He sounded like he hadn't slept in days.