VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 118

[POV: Andreanna Saunterre]

The photo shed an ugly glow onto my face.

I had slid down into a chair, Charles' phone still in my hands, the article still up. Now it wasn't just one, but several of them. The photo appears in every version; bright and blaring and irrelevant. Right there at the top. I'm wearing that stupidly tight dress. I remember buying it.

It looked bad.

It—

It looked intimate.

I knew it couldn't have been, but—

That doesn't matter, does it?

What people believed was clear. The headlines didn't bother remotely hiding it.

They're saying Charles cheated on Alex with me. They're saying I cheated on Oscar with him.
They're calling me a homewrecker.
They're saying I manipulated Charles.
That I seduced him.
That he's loyal and blameless, and I'm—
I'm the ruthless predator.
I'm the one who takes whatever she wants, when she wants it.
That I've been caught being what I always have been.
The Viper.

It's an easy copout, really.

I know how this works.

Pin the blame on the mean bike girl, and keep him away from trouble.

Nobody will fight you on it, and everyone will believe you.

They've always liked him more than me. The press. Certainly the fans. But now... now some of that's cracked. His name's being dragged through the mud too, and it's my fault.

"The Viper Strikes Again."

Original. Really, nice job. Slow clap.

And— I mean—!

This is what they call proof?

This is what they're working with?!

A grainy, barely-eligible photo from weeks ago.

Alex must've seen it, too. And believed it. She must've. That's why she looked at me like that. That's why she said what she said. That's why her friends called me a snake. Because they thought it was true. They think I did this. They think I broke them up. They think I— I made him do it?! What— what bullshit!

God, she must feel awful.

I can't even blame her for believing this crap.

She doesn't know me. And, even if she did, I wouldn't blame her then!

Hell!

I'd still understand if she believed it.

I mean, why not slap "cheater" onto the list? We already have reckless, selfish, slut — take cheater for a spin! Fine.

God, I'm—

My ears had started ringing — high-pitched, like I could hear soundwaves radiating out from the screen.

My— my chest, it—

I blinked hard, trying to shake the nausea curling in my stomach. Every bitter accusation, every cruel assumption — it all suddenly hit at once and didn't let up, just kept coming, one on top of the next, faster and faster and I couldn't even read them quick enough before the next one hit harder than the last.