A/N - Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay in this chapter! As I said in my note earlier, things have been soooooooooo busy lately! But, life is finally slowing down, so I should be back to regular updates! :D

I hope you enjoy this chapter-lots going on again :) I'm so honored by all the attention this story gets! I didn't think this idea was going to take, but I'm glad you're enjoying this new spin on the Grey's universe! :D Enjoy!

Chapter 10 - Expect the Unexpected

Alex turned, leaving the den with a sense of satisfaction. His steps thundered with determination as he moved towards the dining room; he hoped Mark tossed Stephanie out on her ass. Fired her. Sued her. Made sure she never worked in the business again!

Destroyed her.

The bodyguard turned into the room, stopping short as his eyes settled on the trio of women. Lexie and Stephanie were consoling the actress who looked as if her world had crashed and burned. The red faded from his eyes as Alex realized what he was about to do-sure, Stephanie deserved to be ripped limb from limb by the manager, but...revealing her as the mole was going to hurt Jo. The brunette was trapped in a gilded cage, forced to live by everyone else's clock, and to top things off, she was about to learn that one of her few friends had betrayed her.

And he was going to be the one to tell her. He was going to be the one to take the pieces of her life and crumble them into dust.

Alex's mouth went dry as he briefly reconsidered. Maybe he could talk to the manager...have the stylist's communication outlets cut off. Take away her smart phone...monitor her internet usage...something. Anything. Mark would love being even more of a controlling dictator, right? The bodyguard's thoughts nearly had him retreating to the den to convince the older man to keep the woman on staff until the betrayer opened her mouth.

"I wouldn't even worry about it, Jo," Stephanie piped up. "You look hot, and everyone knows you and Jackson are screwing around anyway. Old news."

The bodyguard was at her side before he even registered moving his legs. "Stephanie," he growled her name dangerously low, "Mark wants to see you."

Three pairs of eyes blinked at the man. "Now?" the stylist asked. "Why?"

"You know why," Alex spat before his hand wrapped around her arm and dragged her from the room.

"What is the matter with you?!" the young woman hissed and snatched her arm free from his grasp. "Don't grab me like that!" Her hands thrust into his chest as she spoke.

"Get in there," the man snapped and pushed her into the room.

Mark's eyes turned ice cold as they settled on the betrayer. "Close the door," he directed to Alex, "and wait outside." He stared at the woman a few seconds before nodding towards a chair across from his desk. "Have a seat."

Stephanie's blood ran cold. "I-I'm f-f-f..."

"Sit down."

The young woman's body dropped into the chair as her heart raced. She twined and untwined her fingers as the man continued to stare at her. "I-Is s-s-something wr-wrong?" she stuttered, mentally cursing herself. Stephanie tried to be strong, but the fear inside of her wasn't cooperating.

The manager leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together, propping his elbows on the arms of the chair. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Stephanie?"

The stylist knew the correct answer, but she shook her head instead. "N-No..."

Mark raised an eyebrow. She was going to go this route? Okay, he could play. "Are you sure about that?"

"I a-am."

"Are you really sure?"

Stephanie bit her lip as her body visibly shook with anxiety. Yes, she had something she needed to tell him, but she couldn't tell him! Not now, not when she was so close! It would all be over soon, and everything could go back to normal! She ran a nervous hand over her hair as her head dipped. "I'm sure."

The manager tisked as he retrieved the phone from the desk. "I thought you knew me better than that, Stephanie. Why would I bring you in here if absolutely nothing was going on?"

She looked to him, watching as the man moved from behind the desk. "I don't know what you're talking about," the stylist didn't stutter this time, but her voice was still shaky.

"I think you do," Mark baited as he leaned against the desk. "I'll go easier on you if you're honest with me. Honesty is always the best policy."

The thought was truly tempting to the young woman, but she was in too deep. If she confessed now, Mark would cut her off, and she needed the money for a few more payments. Just a few more, and it would all be over. Stephanie chewed her lip, fighting the urge to spill the beans, when a thought struck her. There was no possible way for the older man to prove that she had done anything wrong. He was guessing; he had no proof. "I told you I don't know what you're talking about, Mark. Are we done here?" Her words came out stronger as she pushed herself to her feet. If she sat here cowering like a scared little girl, Mark would know that she was guilty.

"Sit. Down," the manager barked. "I'm not asking this time." He stared at the woman as she sank into the chair. "I know it was you." Mark had lost all patience with the stylist-no more beating around the bush, baiting, or asking her to confess. He had the power; he knew she was the one who'd probably made thousands off of Jo. Exploited her. Hurt her.

A gasp caught in the woman's throat that she feigned as a cough. "What was me?"

"Don't play innocent!" the older man roared, his eyes snapping fire. "I know it was you, Stephanie! You're the one who took the pictures and sold them to the paparazzi! You're the one who gave up the location of the B&B! It's been you this whole time!" Mark closed his eyes to compose himself-if he kept at it, Jo was sure to hear him, and he didn't want her to know that someone close to her had sold her out.

"It wasn't me," the stylist began, but was cut off when he tossed a phone into her lap.

"Press play."

Stephanie had a sinking feeling that this was the proof Mark had been holding on to. Her attempts to deny it were all in vain. With trembling fingers, she started the video and watched in horror as her indiscretion was exposed. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back as she looked to the man who was currently holding her destiny. "Mark," she started softly.

"You're through," he cut her off, his voice hard as stone. "I will destroy you. You're never going to work in this business again, Edwards. Mark my words. You're. Done."

"You don't understand," she started.

"Stop," he silenced her with a raised hand. "You're over, Stephanie. Get your shit and get out." Mark moved to leave the den, but stopped when the woman grabbed his hand.

"Please, listen to me," the young woman begged. "It's not what you think!" Emotion rolled through her as her mind flitted back to months earlier when her father was diagnosed with cancer. They'd caught it in time to spare his life, but poor insurance matched with cancer treatments nearly destroyed her family. Even Stephanie's salary wasn't enough to afford the treatments, but luckily the cancer center had set up a payment-plan. If it wasn't for their act of generosity, she might be visiting her father in a cemetery.

"Save me your sob story, I've heard them all before," the manager snapped.

"My father has cancer!" the stylist blurted out before tears flowed from her eyes.

Mark's jaw hardened as he watched the woman collapse into tears. In all his time knowing Stephanie...he'd never known her to cry. Never. She was too strong for that. He wanted to believe her, but he knew that desperate people would say anything when cornered. "I don't believe you." He hated voicing the words, but he wasn't some idiot who would believe anything.

"It's true!" the distraught young woman cried out. "He was diagnosed almost a year ago! We went through surgery and cancer treatments...but God, they're expensive, Mark! Did you know how expensive they are?!" She took a shaky breath before speaking again. "I had to sell the pictures...I had to," she sobbed.

"You sold out someone who has done nothing but love you!"

"My father was going to die! I couldn't let him die!"

Mark closed his eyes and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose. What was he supposed to do now? "Stephanie..."

"He only has three treatments left!" the stylist interrupted. "Just three more! After that, I'm done with the paps, I swear!"

The manager sighed heavily, all anger leaving his blue depths. He wanted to believe her, God how he wanted to believe her, but people would say anything to get out of trouble, and women...Lord, they were the masters of the waterworks. Tears were a woman's best friend-Jo had taught him that the first week he'd known her. "Prove it," he finally spoke after several moments of silence.

"What?"

"Prove it," Mark repeated and returned to the desk, picking up the phone.

"You're going to stick your nose in my personal life?" Stephanie frowned.

"Prove it or get to packing," he replied simply. "I've been in this business a long time, Steph. I'm not stupid enough to fall for some story just because it's you." He hated being harsh with her, but he wasn't going to be taken advantage of-any further exploitation of Jo would be on his head.

The stylist weighed her options before sighing heavily and punching in the numbers to the cancer center while Mark put the phone on speaker. As annoying as he was, Stephanie couldn't blame the man for wanting proof. That's what made him such a good manager. "Regina, hey," she jarred from her thoughts as the receptionist greeted her. "It's Stephanie, Stephanie Edwards..."

"Stephanie, hello, I was just about to call you," the twenty-something young woman replied. "We haven't received your payment yet..."

"I know," she interrupted. "Things have been busy, and I haven't had time to hit the post office." Stephanie hesitated as Mark narrowed his eyes at her. "He's only got three treatments left, right?"

"Right," Regina confirmed after pulling up her father's chart on the computer.

The stylist hesitated again, really not wanting to air her business in front of the manager. "What's the balance now?"

"Four thousand, six hundred dollars."

The woman gripped the desk. "And his other treatments will add another nine grand, right?"

"Yes," the receptionist answered before hesitating. "Then the interest fees..."

"Yes, of course," Stephanie nodded and blinked back tears. "Thank you, Regina. I'll drop a check in the mail soon." The young woman hung up the phone before the receptionist encouraged her to take out a loan. Again. "Happy?" she asked and wiped at her nose.

Mark retrieved a kleenex from the box on the desk and passed it to her before speaking. "Does he have insurance?"

Stephanie shook her head after blowing her nose. "No...he's been out of work for a while...sick, you know..."

The manager nodded his head before taking a slow, deep breath. "We have a busy schedule today," he began quietly, "but tomorrow we'll get all of this taken care of, okay?"

The stylist's brain seemed to short circuit. "What? I don't have the money! I'm already behind!"

Mark stood, moving from behind the desk. "I'm going to take care of it, Stephanie."

The woman's mouth dropped. "What? I can't let you do that!"

"It's already done," the older man replied simply.

Stephanie turned, watching him move towards the door. "I'll pay you back, I swear!"

"I know you are," the manager replied, turning back to face her. "And you know how you're going to do that? Cut ties with the paparazzi. No more communication, you got it?"

"G-Got it."

Mark held up a warning finger. "If they show up at any more of our private locations, you're out."

"They won't, I promise!" she assured him. "Thank you, Mark, thank you!"

"Wait a second," he caught her arm before she scurried from the den. "This is our secret, okay?"

Stephanie visibly relaxed. "You're not telling Jo about..."

"No," he shook his head. "It would only hurt her. Karev, get in here!"

Alex jumped as the door to the den flew open and the mole hurried from the room. "Yeah?" he asked after stepping inside. "Need me to take her to the airport?"

"Not exactly," Mark shook his head and closed the door. "There were some extenuating circumstances, so I'm giving Stephanie another chance."

The bodyguard's eyes widened. "Are you serious?!" The badass, hot tempered manager was just going to let the woman go?!

"Yep," he nodded, not phased by the younger man's temper. "Don't tell Jo anything, okay? It's just going to hurt her, and we don't need that right now." Mark returned to his seat behind the desk. "You're free to go," he motioned to the door.

"She made money off of Jo!" Alex exploded, storming over to the desk. "Jo needs to know what kind of back stabbers she calls her friends!"

"Back down, Alex," the manager warned. "You don't know what you're talking about, so just leave it alone!"

"You can't stop me from telling her!"

"Do it, and you're fired."

"What?!"

"Tell her, and you're fired," Mark repeated. "You'll never see Jo again."

Alex glared at the older man a few seconds before turning and storming from the den. If Mark wanted to protect Stephanie, fine, that was his business, but the bodyguard wasn't going to stand by and let the actress believe she had friends in her midst when she really had wolves in sheeps clothing! "Jo!" he barked after seeing the living room empty.

"She's getting ready for Scalpel," April spoke up as she appeared behind him. "What's up, Alex?"

"Nothing," the bodyguard frowned before climbing the stairs two at a time. "Wilson, you decent?!"

Seconds later Jo opened the door to her bedroom and poked her head out. "Yeah, is something wrong?"

Alex resisted the urge to barge into her room and sing like a canary, but unlike other members of her entourage, he had more respect for her. "Everything is fine, we just need to talk."

"Yeah, sure," the brunette gave him a look. "I'll meet you downstairs in like fifteen minutes."

The bodyguard turned, nearly trampling Jo's stylist. "You," he growled.

"You're the one who took the video, aren't you?"

"You're the one who's been selling her out, aren't you?" he countered before sidestepping the woman.

"You're not going to tell her, are you?!" Stephanie gasped as she hurried after the bodyguard.

"You're damn right I am!" he tossed over his shoulder as he descended the stairs.

"Mark is taking care of it, Jo doesn't have to know!" the stylist pleaded.

"You two might be fine lying to her, but I'm not!"

"My father has cancer and can't afford his treatments, okay?!"

Alex stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face the woman. "Are you lying?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as he studied her face.

"No," Stephanie shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'd never do that to Jo unless I had to..."

"And Mark knows the truth?"

"Yes," she answered, then let out a laugh. "He's paying off the debt..."

"He's what?"

"Yeah," the stylist nodded, still stunned herself. "He's taking care of it, I'm through with the paps, and Jo never has to know...we, umm, don't want her to get hurt..."

"Right," Alex nodded, shaking his head. He didn't like lying to Jo, hated it in fact, but at the same time, he didn't want to hurt her. Stephanie had done something bad, but her reasons were honorable. He'd have probably done the same thing if he was in her shoes. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks," Stephanie smiled shyly.

"What are you doing standing around?" Mark bellowed as he left the den behind. "We've got to be on set in an hour! Move!"

The bodyguard gaped at the manager before shaking his head. Alex would never understand the complexity of Mark Sloan.

Despite the little bump in the road, the days of Jo's semi-charmed life continued to roll on-photo shoots, interviews, and Scalpel scripts occupied the woman's time, keeping her constantly running from one activity to the next. The only thing the actress had to look forward to was the opening of her best friend's cafe.

"I can't believe it's finally here!" the brunette shrieked as she jumped from the limo after returning home from a day on set.

"Good thing your schedule was clear, huh?" Mark teased as he filed out behind her.

"I knew you were going to let me go," the actress blew him a kiss before skipping inside.

"Do we all have go to?" Alex grumbled as he climbed from the limo and stretched his arms. "I'm beat."

The manager gave him a wicked grin before clapping him on the back. "You're definitely going, Romeo. I've told Stevens all about you."

"Oh really?" the bodyguard feigned interest.

"Yeah, she can't wait to meet you," Mark smirked. "You've got a reservation at the Hilton tonight if you need it."

"Dude, seriously?"

"You can thank me later."

Alex shook his head as he moved to his room and pulled off his shirt. The thought of Izzie Stevens was becoming more and more appealing to him as the days passed. The woman was hot, and he definitely needed to get laid. Watching Jo and Jackson paw each other every day certainly wasn't helping matters; too bad he couldn't make out with a hot chick every day as part of his job. After showering and changing into a pair of black slacks and a white dress shirt, the bodyguard left his room. "Wilson, are you ready?" he called as he knocked on her door.

"Just a second!" came the muffled reply. Seconds later the actress threw open the door. "Ready."

The bodyguard's mouth dropped as his eyes swept up and down her slowly. The woman was stunning. Gorgeous. Breath taking.

"Alex?" she spoke his name nervously, jarring him from his trance.

"Yeah?" he asked, his mouth dry.

"You're staring," she blushed and ducked her head.

"You're beautiful," he answered, then groaned. Smooth move, doofus.

The brunette bit her lip, glancing to him briefly before looking to the floor. "It's not too much, is it?"

"No," Alex shook his head, staring at her once again. "You're...perfect."

Jo smiled at him softly, then cleared her throat. "I guess we should, umm, get going, huh?"

"Right," the young man agreed and offered his arm.

The actress smiled and took his arm, feeling her pulse quicken. Alex thought she was beautiful; it made her giddy, like a silly school girl. Sure, people called her hot, pretty, gorgeous on a daily basis, but...it was shallow talk. Paps, photographers, and stylists were always telling her that she was gorgeous, but...it was their job. They didn't really mean it, they just wanted her attention. Alex though...Alex really thought she was beautiful, and it made Jo happy. "Thank you," she whispered after leaning closer to him.

"For what?" he shrugged.

"Nothing," the actress replied with a knowing smile.

"Let's go, let's go!" April screeched as she scurried towards the limo.

"Holy cow," Alex gaped half an hour later as the limo slowed to a stop in front of the cafe in downtown LA. "I thought you said she was sent away in shame," he turned wide eyes to Mark.

"She's obviously buttered up the right people," the manager replied as he stared at the mayhem before them.

Izzie had, literally, thrown out a red carpet for the guests of the grand opening. Paparazzi and reporters scattered the sidewalk, ready to snap pictures and grab interviews of the rich and famous.

"I'm so happy for her!" Jo exclaimed with a wide smile. A small part of her had feared for her friend-what if her cafe was a complete, utter fail? Izzie would never survive the criticism of tinseltown. "Come on, let's go, let's go!"

Alex chuckled as Mark and April left the limo first, though he wasn't sure if they left voluntarily or if Jo pushed them out. Either way, he smirked to himself as the actress put her knees firmly together and exited the vehicle gracefully. "Good job," he teased as he closed the door behind him.

"Years of practice," Jo laughed before posing for the multiple camera flashes.

The bodyguard remained in the background as the paps ate her up. His eye naturally roamed her, as if noticing her for the first time. The simple, strapless black dress enhanced the curve of her hip and the perfect shape of her backside. His hand would fit perfectly at her hip, as if it were made for his touch.

Alex's ogling of the beautiful actress nearly made him miss the paparazzi to his right drop to the ground. The man crawled towards Jo and aimed his camera upward...

One second all cameras were on Jo, and the next second the cameras shifted to the commotion behind her. "Alex!" the actress shrieked as her bodyguard kicked a man on the ground. "Alex, stop, oh my God!" she exclaimed and tugged on his arm as he snatched the man to his feet. "Stop, stop!"

Mark pushed Jo aside gently, but firmly, and yanked the swinging bodyguard from the paparazzi. "Karev, are you crazy?!" he yelled and shoved the younger man towards the limo. Lawsuits, medical bills, bad publicity swirled through the manager's head as he looked to the pap gasping for air. "Preston," he growled as his eyes landed on Preston Burke.

"Sloan," the pap nodded in recognition.

"You know this creep?!" Alex spat towards Mark.

"He's just one of the paparazzi," the manager attempted to calm the bodyguard.

"Yeah, one that was trying to put that camera up Jo's skirt!"

Mark's jaw tightened as he turned hard eyes to the pap. "A word?" he asked through gritted teeth before ushering the man aside. "I thought you were finished, Burke."

A cocky grin pulled at the man's mouth. "Is anyone ever really finished, Sloan?" His hand went to his side as he sucked in a breath. "I think that young punk of yours broke one of my ribs."

The manager actually wished Alex had broken more. "So what's that going to cost us?" Might as well call a spade a spade-Burke was here to get money, one way or another.

Preston Burke was the sleaziest paparazzi around. He made paps like Leah Murphy look like angels. Preston somehow managed to get the most incriminating shots of celebrities and sold them to the biggest magazines in the country. "You know what I'm after," the pap smirked. "I'm after that one picture that no one can seem to get."

Mark grit his teeth, taking deep breaths in through his nose. "You're not getting that picture. Not tonight, not ever. Send us your medical bills." He gave the man a sneer before turning to return to Jo.

"Oh, I will get the picture," Burke taunted to the man's retreating back. "One day Jo Wilson's crotch will be splashed all over the country. I think I'll even make a wallet size for myself..."

Second's later Mark's fist connected with Burke's jaw.