Jameson was always outwardly disgusted with how you were talked about in the tabloids, paparazzi, tv, everything. To them, you were just a worthless little child who conned their way into getting money from a dying billionaire.

To him? You were the world. They just didn't see that.

He adjusted his tie as he took a sip of the foul tasting alcohol at the dinner party that he was attending to with you. It left a horrible taste in his mouth, but a repugnant comment was directed towards you along the lines of 'too bad integrity and morals couldn't be bought with all that conned money, how'd you get the old man to do it?' made it worse.

But he didn't say anything. He sat back, grinning as he watched you unwind. You could handle yourself, he knew that all too well.