“Just me,” Rose suddenly announces.
“What…the fuck?” Ryke says, stunned.
I groan and lean back against the couch, my hands on my head. “Why did we trust you?” I snap. I should have realized that she’d be too conceited to actually hire a real lawyer.
“I’ve taken multiple law classes at Princeton,” she refutes. “I understood every line of that contract.” Sure. That’s why you now have a sex tape released to the public, Rose.
I shake my head repeatedly. So they could film in the bedrooms then? A weight bowls straight into my chest, the pressure knocking the wind out of me. If they filmed us—that means they have tapes of Lily and me.
Scott’s just waiting around to release them then?
Lily breathes choppy, sporadic breaths beside me. I reach out and hold her hand. “It’s okay,” I whisper to her. It’s okay. She can read my uneasiness through my features, her eyes growing bigger and bigger. “It’s okay, Lil.” Repeating it doesn’t help. We’re going to be okay.
“I thought you took my lawyer to the meeting,” Connor says, already off the phone with Greg. “And I thought he read the contracts.”
“I thought I told you I left him behind,” Rose retorts.
Connor frowns, shaking his head. “You must have mentioned that to someone else, darling.” He snatches her whiskey-filled wine glass and drinks the rest in one swallow.
I concentrate on him. It takes my mind off what seriously could be the end for us. “What the hell was that?” I ask him. “Greg gives me a two hour speech about sobriety after our scandal, and he doesn’t even acknowledge yours.”
“To be fair,” Connor says, “you lied to Greg and Samantha about being addicts. That news is a bit more jarring than a sex tape…”
I don’t see how.
His attention and voice drifts across the room. I follow his gaze with everyone else, and all oxygen is suddenly caged in my lungs.
Scott stands by the staircase with his hands in his khaki, tailored pockets, like he didn’t just screw over a bunch of people over. Like he’s never done a wrong thing in his life. Like he can’t feel remorse or regret or guilt.
I envy him on that account. How goddamn easy life would be if I wasn’t saddled with all of that.
“Did I miss something?” Scott asks with a sleazy grin.
With an unreadable expression, Connor walks towards Scott, the only person even moving or breathing at this point. I’ve been waiting for him to do something more to the guy that’s just hosed him during the show. If anything, these past six months have taught me that Connor Cobalt and I fight different battles in different ways.
Connor stops right in front of Scott and holds out his hand to shake the producer’s. “Congratulations,” Connor says. “You outsmarted me. Not many people ever do. And I admit…I never saw this coming.” His voice is humorless, emotionless—frighteningly dead.
Scott glances between Connor’s hand and his face. Then he clutches Connor’s palm.
What a fucking weird way to end—
And then Connor punches Scott in the jaw with his free fist. His body hits the wall hard. My lips rise.
“Thank you,” Ryke says with an exhale, near me. We’ve all been waiting for that to happen.
“That’s from me,” Connor sneers at Scott, brutal anger flashing in his eyes, something that I’ve never seen before—something he has been keeping to himself.
Scott tries to swing back, but Connor dodges the attack with ease. And then he knees Scott in the dick, the contact audible. Scott groans, his hands instinctively reaching for his crotch. I cringe at how painful that must’ve been. And Rose is practically celebrating like a fan in a football stadium. I’m shocked she hasn’t raised her fists in the air and twirled in a circle.
“That’s from Rose,” Connor says lowly, venom in his voice.
Scott crouches, almost close to a fetal position. His eyes water, and it takes him a moment to slowly stand back up, bracing the wall so he doesn’t tip over.
Connor never backs up, confident and pissed. This isn’t a guy I’d want to fight, I realize. Not like this.
Scott coughs into his fist and then he says, “…I’d love to see your face when you realize what you’ve signed.”
Something bursts in my chest, and I open my mouth to scream at him. But Ryke covers my lips with his hand, blocking all noise and future regrets from escaping.
“You’re seeing it now,” Connor tells him calmly. How can he not be more upset? Even the thought of Lily being swept up into the rabid media, with sex tapes of our own, is killing me inside. I can’t see any light among that darkness for us. It’s one brick too many, one push too hard—it feels catastrophic.