Chapter 8 - The Media StormBy sunrise, the front of Mila’s apartment building looked like a press briefing room at the White House.
News vans lined the street. Reporters with boom mics swarmed the sidewalk, shouting questions the moment Mila stepped out her front door.
"Mila! Mila! Is it true you're dating tech mogul Victor Vance?" "Did the dog return the slow cooker?" "What do you have to say about the 'Pot Roast Cartel' trending worldwide?"
Mila blinked against the blinding glare of camera flashes, clutching her coffee cup like a shield. Standing right beside her, holding a custom leather leash attached to a very dignified Brutus wearing a polished silver name tag, was Victor Vance.
Victor stepped smoothly in front of Mila, his tall frame blocking the worst of the flashing lights. He raised a hand, and the press corps instantly quieted down, trained to listen when a billionaire spoke.
"Good morning, everyone," Victor’s voice cut through the murmurs cleanly. "Yes, Brutus did steal the pot roast. Yes, the pot roast has been recovered and upgraded. And no, Miss Hayes is not taking questions about her personal life right now."
He turned his head slightly, looking down at Mila with a soft, undeniable warmth in his eyes.
"However," Victor continued, raising Mila’s hand in his own large, steady grip, "she is making an announcement regarding nationwide healthcare worker reform, funded in partnership with the Vance Foundation."
The cameras went wild. Flashes strobed like a lightning storm. Microphones pushed forward.
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Mila looked down at Brutus. The massive Cane Corso gave a soft huff, sat down on the pavement, and let out a single, triumphant bark that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Mila squeezed Victor’s hand back, feeling a strange, wonderful lightness in her chest—the complete opposite of the crushing exhaustion she had felt just days ago. She looked at the cameras, smiled a fierce, brilliant smile, and stepped up to the microphone.
