Part 62

Noel's thumb hovered over the screen, the silence on the other end of the line stretching into a hollow, electronic void.

Hi, you've reached Caroline. I'm sorry I can't take your call right now. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Thanks, bye!

'Fuck!' he hissed, pulling the phone away to stare at the call-ended screen. 'Not now, Caro. Not fucking now.'

He hit redial, pacing the length of the plush hallway like a caged animal. Each ring felt like a heartbeat skipping. He could picture her, clueless, humming along to the radio in the cab, her phone dead in her bag because she had other things on her mind last night than charging her phone, while the mob downstairs sharpened their knives.

The beep of the voicemail finally cut through.

'Caroline, it's me,' he rasped, his voice dropping into a low, urgent hum. He turned his back on Liam, shielding the phone as if he could keep the words private in the empty hall. 'If you get this, do not come to The Lowry. Do you hear me? The back entrance is blown. The front is a fucking firing squad.'

He walked inside his suite and stopped at the window, looking down at the swarm of paps. They looked like ants from this high up, but he knew the venom they carried.

'Sara's gone to The Sun. She's leaked everything, the settlement, the house, and she's put a target on your back. They've got a few blurry shots of us leaving rehearsals together. They're calling you the 'staff member,' Caro. They're waiting for the 'homewrecker' shot.'

He closed his eyes, the guilt hitting him harder than the adrenaline.

'Have the cab turn around. Go to your hotel if they didn't figure that one out yet and are camping on the doorstep by now.'

He paused, his throat tight. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he'd handle it. But the "stony mask" was slipping, and the rage was coming back.

He cut the call, the silence of the penthouse feeling heavier than the noise downstairs. He looked at Liam, who was walking in behind him, watching him with that unsettlingly sober expression.

'She didn't pick up?' Liam asked, his voice unusually quiet.

'Phone's dead, I think' Noel said, his grip tightening on his own device until his knuckles turned white. 'Fuck, she's gonna drive straight into it.'

The silence in the penthouse was shattered by a muffled roar from below, the collective shout of the paparazzi catching sight of a black Mercedes-Benz pulling into the hotel's private drive.

Noel froze. His stomach did a slow, agonizing flip.

'That's her,' Liam said, pushing off the wall. He didn't even need to look out the window; he knew the sound of a hunt beginning. 'That's the cab.'

Noel was already moving. He didn't wait for the elevator, he knew it was too slow, too predictable. He went for the heavy fire door of the stairwell, his boots thudding against the concrete as he began a frantic, spiraling descent.

'Noel! Stay up here, man!' Liam's voice echoed behind him. 'You go out there now, you're just confirming the whole fucking story!'

Noel didn't stop. His lungs burned, the sterile smell of the stairwell filling his senses. Confirming it? He didn't give a toss about the confirmation. He could see the headlines already, but all he could actually picture was Caroline's face when she realized the 'betrayal' Sara had engineered wasn't just a legal maneuver, it was a public execution of her reputation.

He hit the ground floor landing, his heart hammering against his ribs. Through the glass slit of the final door, he saw the lobby. It was a sea of suits and security guards, all of them looking toward the revolving doors where the flashes were now a continuous, blinding strobe of white light.

The security team was trying to form a corridor, but the paps were leaning over the velvet ropes, their lenses like long, black snouts.

And there she was.

Caroline stepped out of the cab while she put on her sunglasses and hoisted a leather satchel over her shoulder. She had her dead phone in one hand and a takeaway coffee in the other. She looked up, squinting against the light, her expression shifting from confusion to a sudden, sickening realization as the first shouted question hit her.

'Caroline! How long have you and Noel been seeing each other?'

'Is it true he's buying you a flat with the divorce money?'

'Look over here, darling! Give us a smile for the "Other Woman" shot!'

'Caroline! Over here! How long has the affair been going on?'

'Is it true you asked Noel for the London house?'

The questions hit her like physical stones. She froze, the coffee cup trembling in her hand, a deer caught in a high-voltage trap.

Noel was halfway through the fire door, his shoulder already braced to burst into the lobby, when a hand like a vice clamped onto his arm and yanked him back.

'Don't you fucking dare, Noel!' Liam's voice hissed in his ear.

Noel spun around, his face a contorted mask of fury, ready to swing at whoever was stopping him. 'Look at her, Liam! They're fucking hounding her!"

'I know!' Liam shouted back, 'And the second you walk out there pretending to be her knight in shining armor, you give them exactly what they want. You give them the 'confirmation' shot. You make her the front page of every rag in the country for the next six months!'

Below them, through the glass slit of the door, the roar intensified.

'Caroline! Look over here!' 'Is it true about the twenty million?'

Noel struggled. 'I don't give a fuck about the shot, she's terrified!'

'Just let the pros do it!' Liam barked, his face inches from Noel's. He nodded toward the lobby where three massive security guards, men Noel had paid for years to be invisible, were already moving in. 'Look! They've got her. See?'

Noel froze, his eyes fixed on the sliver of glass. He saw the security team converge on Caroline like a phalanx. They formed a wall of dark wool coats around her, blocking the cameras, and began to usher her toward the staff service corridor.

Caroline walked with them, her head bowed as the 'Other Woman' slurs were hurled at her back. She looked small, and utterly alone in the center of the storm he had created.

'Sara is gonna pay for this..,' Noel rasped, his voice low and dangerous. 'She knew Caroline would be coming here. She timed it. She fucking timed it to the minute.'

'Course she did,' Liam said, his voice unusually grim as he adjusted his own parka. 'She's playing you like a fucking fiddle, Chief, always has. But this time Caroline's the one paying the piper.'

The sound of the crowd began to fade as the security team successfully pulled Caroline out of the lobby and into the restricted area.

'Go back to the suite,' Liam commanded, pointing up the stairs. 'Because when she walks through that door in two minutes, she's not gonna need a rockstar throwing a tantrum. She's gonna need you to tell her how you're gonna stop her life from being ruined.'

Noel didn't move. He felt the weight of the last twelve hours, the quiet, the heat of her skin, the way he'd promised her the world would stay outside, crumble into a pile of tabloid trash. He'd led her right into the abattoir.

'Go on,' Liam nudged him, his tone surprisingly devoid of its usual bite. 'Get in there. Fix your face. You look like you're ready to murder someone, and she's already had enough of that downstairs.'

Noel turned without a word and trudged back up the stairs followed by his brother. Every step felt like he was hauling lead. By the time he reached the penthouse suite, the "stony mask" was back, but his eyes were bloodshot, vibrating with a frantic energy.

He paced the length of the living room, kicking a stray cushion out of the way. He stopped at the sideboard, poured a glass of water, and watched his hand shake so violently the liquid slopped over the rim.

Then, the soft ding of the private elevator.

The doors slid open. Caroline stood there, flanked by two stone-faced security guards. She looked even smaller than she had five minutes ago and she was still clutching that coffee cup like a talisman.

The guards stepped back, the doors hissed shut, and she was left standing on the edge of the plush carpet. She didn't look at Liam, who was hovering by the window. She looked straight at Noel.

'Noel,' she whispered. Her voice was thin, the sound of someone who had just seen their entire reputation shredded in the time it took to cross a pavement. 'What's going on? They're accusing me of.. everything.'

Noel crossed the room in two strides, but he stopped a foot away from her. He was terrified that if he touched her, she would physically lash out this time, and he would understand if she did.

'I'm sorry,' he rasped, the words feeling pathetic and small. 'Caro, I am so fucking sorry.'

She finally reached up and pulled off her shades. Her eyes were red-rimmed, wide with a shock that was slowly turning into a cold, hard realization.

'What? How?..' she asked, her voice gaining a sharp, jagged edge. 'what is all that about the twenty million? About the house? Is that why they're calling me a "staff member" who "demanded" a payout?'

Noel stepped toward her, his voice dropping into that protective, frantic register. 'Listen, you need to get away from here, the car is in the basement, Caro. You're going to the house in the Cotswolds. Nobody knows the address. Hunker down, let the solicitors trade some blows, and wait for the news cycle to move on to someone else."

Caroline finally looked up, and the look in her eyes stopped Noel mid-stride. There was no fear there anymore. The shock had calcified into a cold, hard diamond of rage.

'Hunker down?' she repeated, the words tasting like poison. 'You want me to disappear into the countryside like a guilty secret? To let Sara's 'exclusive' be the only version of the truth that exists for the next week? I actually thought you knew me better than that, Noel..'

'It's for your safety!' Noel argued, his hands out as if trying to catch a falling glass. 'You saw them down there! They'll follow you to the supermarket, they'll hunt you down..'

'Let them!' Caroline snapped, slamming her dead phone onto the marble sideboard. The crack echoed through the suite. 'They're saying I'm the reason your children are losing their home. If I hide now, I'm telling the world that she's right.'

She stepped into his space, her finger hovering inches from his chest. 'I have worked ten years to build a reputation in this industry. I am fuckin' good at what I do, and your wife just tried to turn me into a tabloid cliché to squeeze more money out of you. I am not hiding. I am going to fuckin' destroy her.'

Liam let out a low, appreciative whistle from the window.

Noel ignored him, his face pale. 'Caro, you don't know how this works. You can't 'destroy' the tabloids. They'll dig until they find something, anything, to back up her story.'

'Then let them dig!' she countered. 'I haven't demanded a penny from you and I never will. I haven't 'broken' any home. I've been doing my job while she's been briefing the Sun behind your back. I'm not a 'staff member,' Noel. I'm a Tour Manager and a PA. And I'm a person who's about to sue for defamation so hard her solicitors won't know what hit them.'

She turned to Liam. 'Liam, give me your phone. Now.'

Liam didn't hesitate. He slid his iPhone across the table. 'Who we calling, Darling? The police or the hitmen?'

'My lawyer,' she said, her voice steady and lethal. She looked back at Noel, who was watching her with a mix of terror and awe. 'You can go to the Cotswolds if you want to play 'tortured rockstar' in the woods, Noel. But I'm staying in Manchester. I'm going to Heaton Park, and I'm going to issue a statement that makes Sara's 'exclusive' look like the desperate work of fiction it actually is.'

Noel reached out, his hand finally finding her shoulder. 'Caroline, please. It's a bloodbath out there.'

She didn't pull away this time, but her gaze was unwavering. 'And she created it, if she wants a fight about money and 'loyalty,' she picked the wrong woman to lie about.'

She started dialing, the professional mask firmly back in place, but with a new, dangerous edge.

'Hello? Simon? It's Caroline. I need you to draft a cease and desist for News Group Newspapers. And then I want you to call Sara's legal team. Tell them they have one hour to retract the 'staff demand' and every other claim, or we're filing for libel by lunchtime.'