antagonist: the main character, person, group, society, nature, force, spirit world, bad guy, or villain of a film or script who is in adversarial conflict with the film’s protagonist; also sometimes termed the heavy.

“At midnight, a site of your sex tapes went live. It’s called NallyVacay.com,” Lanya informed. Nally was the celebrity couple name his approving fanbase called them, and as for the vacay, that couldn’t possibly mean...

Tallulah quickly got off the call with Lanya and went to the website. All the air evaporated from her lungs as she read the introductory summary:

Welcome to our site, little voyeurs!

Here, you’ll have free access to a collection of hot-hot-hot videos starring the King of Hollywood, Nick Bryant and his queen consort, Tally Edmonds. As you know, Nicky is no stranger to sex tapes, but Tally is a talented newcomer. Watch as Nicky fucks her like the dirty little slut she is.

Enjoy!

Videos of the intimacy they shared in the bedroom of their Mexico penthouse filled the page like a grid. A real-time visitor counter resided at the bottom of the page, its numbers churning fast. The site had only been live for three hours, and the count had just broken eight hundred thousand.

Her tears blurred everything, and she choked out a sob.

Nick sat upright, alert. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Unable to look at him, she passed him her cell with a shaky hand and then got out of bed. She darted for the bedroom door and flung it open. Her bare feet clapped against the cold marble floors as she raced to the mansion’s nine-car garage.

She climbed into the driver’s seat of the silver Land Rover and slammed the door shut. Her hands shot to the steering wheel and strangled it as she screamed like she was an impending murder victim. She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel, her body quivering as cries poured out of her.

The front passenger door opened, and Nick claimed the empty seat. She didn’t have the energy to lift her head to look at him. And even if she did, he’d be a watery blur.

“Did you see the camera angle?” she panted out.

“Yeah, I did,” he answered.

It was stationary and focused solely on the bed. None of their intimate moments beyond the master suite was captured. She squeezed her eyelids shut, more tears cascading down her cheeks. She imagined the layout of the room again.

“That means,” she trailed off, her voice cracking.

“It means the V-day teddy bear was actually a teddycam,” Nick concluded.

She nodded in agreement, letting out a sad laugh. “I almost took it with me, too, as a souvenir. Maybe, if I had then—”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Desiree. They’re wireless, and their footage can be transmitted to any device,” he informed coolly. “I’ve called Juan and Tammy. First thing in the morning, we’re having an emergency meeting to resolve the matter.”

As you know, Nicky is no stranger to sex tapes...

Nick had five, and even though Tallulah had admitted to watching one, she had seen all of them. Not all the way to the end, but a minute or two—or three or four—to convince herself he was better living his best life fucking actresses, supermodels, heiresses, and popstars than trying to be a father to Milo.

She was one of the millions of little voyeurs of his sex tapes, and now, by daylight, a million and more will have seen theirs.

Tallulah supposed this was a form of karma for not minding her goddamn business. She could only imagine how many of those videos were being downloaded and spread across the endless internet like wildfire.

“Even if you take that site down, those videos will be on the web forever, Nick,” she whispered tearily, looking over at him.

“I know, but whoever did this will pay, Desiree,” Nick said, brushing away a salty droplet of hers.

She shook her head, dodging him. “You can’t guarantee that.”

“Yes, I can,” he said, his tone serious. “I have my ways, Desiree.”

Tallulah tilted her head back to gaze up at the ceiling, wanting gravity to push her incoming tears back inside. “I want to be alone right now.”

He stared at her, refusing to budge.

She snapped her attention to him, slamming her palms against the steering wheel in sorrow and frustration. “Please, Nick. Leave now.”

Then, with desperation, she whispered, “Please, please, please.”

He clenched his jaw tight, and his nostrils flared as he granted her wish, leaving her behind. She reclined the driver’s seat and cried herself to sleep. After three hours of dreamless slumber, she roused from the Land Rover and padded back into the house.

Once inside, she stood at a crossroads. If she went left, Nick would be waiting for her in their bed. If she went right upstairs, then she could be with Milo.

So, she traveled upstairs and pushed open her son’s ajar door, crossing his prehistoric bedroom to crawl into his bed. She snuggled against him, watching his eyelids twitch as he slept so calmly while her world burned to ash.

Seeing him at peace inspired her to nod off.

When Tallulah woke again, she awoke alone.

Groggily, she deduced Milo must’ve snuck out of bed and got ready for his Thursday at school. A headache drilled into her skull. She cradled her temple with her palm as if it’d alleviate the agonizing pressure.

She went to Nick’s old bedroom and plucked a bottle of painkillers from his medicine cabinet. Tossing two into her mouth, she turned on the faucet to slurp from the cool stream. Then she splashed water onto her bothered skin to wake herself up.

After patting her face with a nearby towel, she went downstairs to find Nick, Juan, and Tammy discussing the matter on the poolside patio.

Looking a hot mess, she went to join them.

They grew quiet as she sat down.

“What’s the damage?” she asked tiredly.

“You two are trending across all social media platforms. The celebrity gossip blogs and tabloids are having a field day. There will be a lot of television coverage, too,” Tammy informed as she reached for Tallulah’s hand and squeezed it.

“What’s the visitor count now?” she asked, holding an intense staring contest with Nick.

Juan paled, scratching his nape nervously. “As of thirty minutes ago, it’s at 1.5 mil.”

She had cried so much she had no more tears. She could only nod and stare at the morning sunlight dancing across their pool’s blue waters.

“On Nick’s instruction, we contacted the resort and threatened them with legal action if they did not investigate who had access to that penthouse before you two arrived and after you two left. Because the site has a US web host and it’s categorized as revenge porn, which is illegal, we’ve given them 24 hours to shut it down, or they’ll have to deal with the authorities,” Juan continued.

“And what happens if they find the culprit? They can’t be extradited from Mexico for their crimes,” Tallulah said, bouncing her knee nervously underneath the patio table.

“I called in a favor to a tech-savvy associate in law enforcement, and he traced the site’s IP address to LA, which means either the culprit is using a VPN to disguise the fact he operates in Mexico, or he has an inside contact at the resort and he operates here in LA,” Nick replied. “Either way, we’ll find him, Desiree.”

She rose from her seat. “Seems you all have everything figured out. I need some time to process this...matter.”

Tallulah walked back inside, aching for a shower to scrub her skin.

Skin 1.5 million little voyeurs and counting saw on that website.

She yanked her nightgown over her head and quickly took off her undergarments. Twisting the shower knobs, she got in, not caring ice-cold water rained down on her.

Tallulah tilted her head up, letting it baptize her. As the water went warm, then hot, she wanted an empty mind. She wanted to simply exist, but she looked to the claw-footed tub through the steamy shower door, remembering the conversation had last night.

Nick (and Milo) wanted to turn their family of three into a family of four. How could she possibly bring another child into a world of voyeurs?

Unless she was imprisoned at the mansion for her entire pregnancy, ducking in and out of alleyways into tinted cars for gyno appointments only, she’d always be stressed out.

Hell, she had been so stressed out lately that she missed two periods, and after this debacle, she’d probably miss a third.

She smoothed a hand over her belly, her brow furrowing as she considered her symptoms.

Tender breasts and missed periods.

The bathroom opened and closed. Nick’s silhouette approached the steamed glass, shedding his pajama bottoms. He entered, approaching her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding his calloused hands up her curves. He nuzzled his bearded face against the crook of her neck, kissing her cheek.

He breathed in her ear, cupping her sore breasts gently. “I couldn’t sleep at all. If you’re not in my arms, I’m restless as fuck.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Nick,” she whispered, wincing at his touch.

Overwhelmed by a what-if, she detached herself from him and exited the shower. He stayed inside, seizing her wet arm.

“Don’t run away from me, Desiree,” he pleaded, his eyes full of pain. “Don’t.”

When he looked at her like that, how could she deny him?

She returned to the shower and shut the door. Nick pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. She stroked his nape tenderly, realizing he was hurting just as much as she was.

As you know, Nicky is no stranger to sex tapes...

But this time was different because it was them.

“I protect what’s mine,” he told her last night.

A task he believed he failed at.

“Thank you for protecting me. For protecting us,” Tallulah whispered.

Nick said nothing, only coiled his arms tighter around her as if she’d spiral down the shower drain if he let her go.

Tell him, a little voice in the back of her head nagged.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Nick, I’ve missed two periods and...I’m starting to think it’s...not due to stress.”

He lifted his head off her shoulder, nailing her with his intense eyes.

“I think I need...a pregnancy test,” she admitted hesitantly.

Without a single word, he led them out of the shower dripping wet and over to the bathroom sinks. Confused, Tallulah watched as he squatted and opened a cabinet door, retrieving a pregnancy test.

“Take it now.” He offered it to her.

Tallulah glanced between him, his audacity, and it.

“Are you seriously giving me a dusty pregnancy test left behind by one of your exes?” she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at the pink-and-blue box.

“No, I bought it after you missed your first period,” Nick informed, standing over her again. “Now, take it.”

She gawked at him, her jaw hanging wide open.

“I—” Her words shriveled in her throat. She accepted the box, ripped it open, and got out one of the two pregnancy tests.

Nick watched her like a goddamn hawk as she sat on the toilet and peed on the stick. Then she stuck the cap back on and laid it on the counter delicately like it was the most fragile thing she ever handled.

After she washed her hands, he wrapped her in a fluffy towel.

“I still can’t believe you bought a pregnancy test after I missed my first period, Nick,” she said in disbelief, shaking her head.

“And I can’t believe you didn’t consider pregnancy a possibility after you missed your first period,” he said. “I believe I told everyone on national television loving on you is sensational. And when it’s sensational, you’re doomed.”

She punched him in the chest, fighting back a slight smile. Underneath her knuckles, a chuckle of his vibrated into her flesh and bones. For a moment, they weren’t victims of a revenge porn site.

They were them.

Nick captured her wrist and brought her fist up his lips, kissing each knuckle.

“What happens if it’s positive?” she asked.

“I’m gonna kiss the fuck out of you,” he answered, his warm breath tickling her knuckles.

“And what happens if it’s negative?” she asked.

“I’m still gonna kiss the fuck out of you,” he said.

Tallulah reached for the stick and looked at its little digital window, reading the word PREGNANT. Her heart leaped in her throat.

She gasped out, “Holy sh—”

Nick smashed his lips against hers.

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