The Rise To Power; A Smallville Saga {Part 5 - Glass Heart}

Wilt

A/N: I don't own Smallville or any characters and places in the DC universe. Nor do I own the episodes that these chapters are based on and contained from.

I also don't claim to be a writer. My inspiration is simply to get a creative outlet going.

I only own Tyla Nevin and what pertains to her character story.

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"I already know what the device isn't, Dr. Groll," Lex's voice boomed as he walked back and forth in the study. He tilted to move past the designer, ignoring how she was setting up the rack of clothes that hung to the far right of the study. He tried to hide the frown on his face when Tyla had walked in but it was futile. She knew the look of disappointment too well. It was something she was used to seeing when she was giving him bad news. It wouldn't be a far guess as to the sense of the results that he was hearing. "Your job is to tell me what it is. I want a report." He hung up with a scowl that dissipated just as he saw his beloved hover near the couch. 

"A report on what?" She asked but she was met with Lex shaking his head.

"No work, remember?"

She sighed and threw her head back in annoyance. Her hand was healed, save for a dark scab that felt like it was taking its time to heal over. The wound on her side had closed up and might as well be the picture of health. With physiotherapy, she could at least be able to go out with a semblance of a normal routine. But Lex had other ideas. Clearly. She glanced over at the designer. "And this is what?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Tyla Luthor, my god," A woman with blonde highlights raced over to shake her hand when she realized that she was in the presence of not just one but both Luthors. "I'm a huge fan. You look even more radiant than in the magazines."

Tyla looked uncomfortable. She glanced over to Lex who fought back his amusement as the other woman gushed over her. "This is Monica. She's helping us pick out costumes for the charity ball," he explained. "She can help you put something together."

His wife made a face, recalling the event. "Right...because I want the next news article to comment on how sheltered I've been," she said, a little too harshly towards Lex.

He cleared his throat and looked over at the designer. "Monica, will you excuse us?" He asked. He waited for the woman to leave before he spoke again. "I take it you saw this morning's paper."

"Yeah, interesting way of stating that I'm a battered woman," Tyla scoffed. "And not a single comment from my own husband to say otherwise."

"Oh, come on, Ty," he replied. "You told me yourself not to indulge in petty news."

"That was before I became the subject of every paper and channel on this side of the globe," she waved her hand away as if to motion the world before her. "I was behind-the-scenes before.... and now I'm...gossip."

"Look, Tyla, I know. I was raised in front of the cameras. When I was 13, a reporter caught me between classes at boarding school. He asked me how I felt about my mother's death. A mic shoved in my face in front of classmates I couldn't stand...and that's how I found out she died." He walked over. "Press like this, they do anything to tear us apart just so that they can get a story."

"I...I'm just not used to being on this side," she shuttered, trying to shake off the tension that seeped into her shoulder blades. "I'm used to playing damage control. Who's going to do it for me?"

"Would you like your old team back?"

She chuckled. As much as she missed her friends back in National City, she knew that she couldn't tear them away. She was sure that one of them was even going to be promoted to Chief of Staff within the next year. "No...I know you're capable of pulling them in but...I can't have connections if I don't allow them to grow," she said, defeated. "I just miss working without the public eye on me."