My phone started ringing at 6 AM.
Unknown number after unknown number, each one adding to the growing knot of dread in my stomach. I let them all go to voicemail, but when Mrs. Rodriguez knocked on my door at 6:30 with a concerned expression and a newspaper in her hand, I knew my world had just imploded.
"Mija," she said softly, "you need to see this."
The photo was on the front page of the city's biggest tabloid. Black and white, grainy from the rain, but unmistakably clear: Damien Wolfe, tech mogul and recent groom, kissing an unidentified woman in Central Park at midnight.
The headline screamed: "CHEATING SCANDAL: Billionaire's Marriage Already on the Rocks?"
"Oh God," I whispered.
"Elena, there are reporters outside. They're asking about you."
My blood turned to ice. "How do the
