Naomi & Bradley, Reality Shows... (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 3) by Angela Conrad, Kathleen Hesser Skrzypczak

boring enough, the guys strutting around, going on a few trips, then several shots of women in bikinis walking around the house, bending over, leaning down, posing in every way they could think of to show off their bodies.  Normally I’d be upset seeing them in the house with Bradley, but if this is all they want to show tonight, I feel nothing but relief.  Just when my fears cool off and I can breathe normally, the show returns from an eight minute commercial break with a terrorizing announcement.
    “What you are about to see is real.  Last week The Producers of Model House were informed that one of you is being cheated on while you are here.  It is always with great hope that, when we leave our loved ones, they will be faithful in our absence.  Unfortunately, this is not always the case…” 
    I can’t listen to the rest.  I cover my ears with my hands and let out a shout of anger as I see the men in the house watching the doctored video.  The music is crazy loud, and I realize why when I notice my mouth is moving, but no one can hear my words.  Please Bradley, detect these manipulative flaws. 
    You can see much more of Viktor than myself under him, but the details are damaging.  The vodka dripping onto my stomach, him licking me, then Viktor pushing between my legs.
    Hell!
    Then, the shot goes from the video to Bradley’s reaction. Bradley begins to stand as he shouts, “That’s ENOUGH.”
    “Easy, Dobrov.  You need to know the truth.”
    “This isn’t truth, it’s bullshit.  How did you even get this?”
    The movie continues and it’s deceptive as it captures my smile, the idea in my head that I’m going to knee Viktor in the balls, only my motive is not obvious on the screen.  Another commercial.  I look down at my hands and realize I’m shaking.  Bradley is fighting it, questioning it, but he’s angry too.  I don’t think I ever saw him that upset.
    Another thought hits me.  My reputation.  There goes my business future, my good name.  Don’t they need a signed release to show my face on television?  That damn Russian, Fedor Slotzky, his company, FSTScom Media, could I touch them?  I have money now.  I still own a quarter of that high-rise project.  What if I shut it down? 
    I realize I need an attorney, and more importantly, just because Fedor Slotzky sees me as a mindless orphan child, it doesn’t mean I am one.  They underestimated me, those Slotzky slobs.  Even if Bradley and I break up, especially if we break up, I’m going after them.
    “There’s only so much pushing and shoving Naomi Swanson can experience until a fire lights under her ass,” I smirk out loud.
    I’m going to fight back, I’ll take on the entire Russian clan if I have too, starting right now.
    My thoughts drift to my aunt LaLa and even that slime ball Chase.  They might help me if it would gain them something.  I’ll have to go in carefully, feel them out, and see if I can get a read on them.  She’s a powerful woman and I saw the tears in her eyes when Bradley proposed to me in her penthouse.  Maybe the old girl does have a heart.
    I’m going to find out.
     
     

Chapter Twenty-Two
Who’s zoomin’ who?
     
     
    BRADLEY
    Friday, April 29th
     
     
    The lights come up and no one moves.  The air is thick with expectation.  I scan the faces around me.  Some guys look genuinely sad, some stare at their hands or the floor.  Tim Smith emerges from the shadows like Nosferatu. 
    “Bradley, we here at Model House want to offer you our deepest sympathies on this recent…turn of events.”  He walks over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, like he’s my father. 
    I stand up, brush off his hand.  “I don’t need your sympathy, because that was a complete lie.  Naomi would never get into bed with that guy again.  We’re engaged.”
    Joel interrupts.  “Hold up, bro.  What do you mean, ‘again’?  I mean, if it’s happened before…”  He lets the words hang