Nick POV:
"Please, just try to convince Dad that it's time to move," I said to my stepmom, Helen, over the phone. "The neighborhood is way too loud, and the security is a joke. Now that the news has my face plastered everywhere, staying there is just asking for trouble."
"Oh, Nick, it's fine. We're used to it. We've been there forever, and the neighbors are all people we know. Who's going to bother us?" Helen laughed it off.
Even though I wasn't her biological son, she'd been in my corner since I was a kid. I might still be too stubborn to call her 'Mom' to her face, but I knew she loved me like one. Seeing me finally blow up and hit the big time had her walking on air—she lived for the moments neighbors stopped her to brag about my latest headlines.
"I'm not trying to be paranoid, I'm trying to be smart. You and Dad might not care, but think about Lily. She's just a kid, and she's an easy target for anyone trying to get to me. We've got the money now; let's get you into a bigger, safer house. Plus, it'll be easier for me to visit."
The reporters swarming my life were one thing, but dragging my family into the crossfire was a line I wasn't willing to let anyone cross. My dad was as stubborn as a mule, so I knew I had to work through Helen. And the second I mentioned Lily, she folded.
"You're right," she said, her voice dropping. "I'll talk to your dad. By the way, you mentioned bringing people home—is there a girlfriend we should know about?"
I dodged that one immediately. "No way. I'm too busy, and I'm still young. I'm focused on the company."
"You're twenty-three, Nick. That's plenty old enough to find someone to take care of you. Date, settle down, get married. It's the right time."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it eventually," I said, steering the conversation back. "Look, just look for a gated community with some peace and quiet. Price isn't an issue. I'll sleep a lot better knowing you guys are safe."
"We're fine if you're fine. Just take care of yourself, okay? Don't burn out. And try to come home this year—your dad and sister really miss you, and I do too."
After the call, my secretary, handed me a folder without a word. "Mr. Nicholas, here's the rundown on the media coverage. Since your post, a few outlets pulled their articles, but a handful are still digging. The smaller blogs and independent accounts are the real nightmare; they're basically bottom-feeders just waiting for us to acknowledge them."
I tapped the desk, thinking it over. "Blacklist the ones still running the hit pieces. No more interviews, and they're off the ad spend budget—permanently."
"Public announcement or internal memo?" Calloway asked, her pen ready.
"Make it public. Sometimes you have to kill the chicken to scare the monkeys," I said. "For the blogs, get legal on the line with the platform hosts. Demand a total takedown of all personal info and articles. If they don't block them, tell them it's going to affect our future business partnerships. Keep it firm. It's time to show them we're not a punching bag."
"Consider it done."
"One more thing," I added as I stood up. "Find me a new place."
Calloway paused, pen hovering. "For you, or just for the office?"
"For me." People had already hunted down my public housing address, and it had turned into a polarized debate. Some people loved the 'humble genius' angle; others were screaming that I was hoarding low-income housing. It was just more noise, and I was tired of sleeping in hotels or the lab just to avoid the cameras.
"Any requirements?"
"Needs privacy, tight security, and it has to be move-in ready."
"I'll start looking immediately."
It's been a rough week, and honestly, I'm just about spent. I'm hoping once this month clears out, the chaos finally settles down.