ログインI can't take it anymore. "Vivian, what are you doing here?" The words come out harder than I intended. Not that I care. I step fully into the office and get my first clear look. Vivian is clutching something in her hand. A piece of paper. I can't make out the amount from here, but I know what it is. Liam wouldn't hand her anything else. "Give it to me," I say. Vivian shoves the check into her purse with the quick, defensive motion of someone protecting something they know they shouldn't have. Her face arranges itself into the expression her mother taught her. The wounded look. The misunderstood daughter. The woman who is only trying to help and is being punished for her kindness. "It's a gift from my brother-in-law," she says. Her voice is sweet. Too sweet. The specific, saccharine sweetness that means she's performing. "Allie, it's been so long since you visited home. Don't you know Dad's company is in trouble? Liam is fam
The hallway exhales. Someone behind me gasps. Not dramatically. Just a small, involuntary release of breath from a person who has just heard something they didn't expect. The crowd is doing the math. I can see it happening behind their eyes. Mia Stone: international film star, three consecutive Silver Hugo wins, two Film Queen titles, ten years at the top of the industry without a single misstep. Allie Brooks: debut actress, one television role, nominally famous for being married to Liam Hart and nominally infamous for everything that's happened since. The math doesn't work. Everyone in this hallway knows it. George knows it. Amy knows it. The photographers with their phones know it. Even Mia knows it, because the expression she's wearing right now is the expression of someone watching a insect walk onto a road and knowing what's about to happen. "Are you sure?" Mia asks. Her voice is almost gentle. The gentleness of certainty. The
"All right," I say. "I'll do the endorsement." George raises an eyebrow. "That was fast. What changed your mind?" I lean back in the chair and give him the honest answer. "People can be foolish about a lot of things," I say. "But money isn't one of them." George laughs. The real kind, not the boardroom kind. "Liam has enough money to buy the whole city. Why do you care about this?" "His money is his. The money I earn is mine. Those are two different things." George studies me for a moment. Something moves behind his eyes, the specific expression of a man who is reassessing someone and finding the reassessment interesting. "If there's nothing else, I have a shoot," I say. I stand. From the moment I walked into his office to the moment I left, George didn't mention the conflict with Mia. Not the hospital. Not the media campaign. Not the fact that his sister and I have been at war for months.
Prism Tower at 8:30 AM.I have a full schedule. Magazine cover shoot at ten. A phone interview at eleven. A fitting for an event next week that I keep forgetting exists.Amy is at her desk when I walk in, and her face tells me everything I need to know before she opens her mouth."Have you seen the news?" she says. "You're on the headlines again.""I've been on the headlines every day for two weeks. What's different about today?"Amy stands up. Her hands are clasped in front of her, the specific posture of someone delivering bad news they've been rehearsing since they woke up."This time it's different. The hospital incident is everywhere. The fan confrontation. Cherry Scoop's article. You should talk to George about crisis PR. Also, Mia Stone is his sister. If he mediates, this could blow over quickly."I sit down at the makeup station."I was the one being chased through the streets," I s
I understand now. The crowd. The signs. The matching shirts. The organized, coordinated energy of people who showed up at a specific hospital at a specific time to confront a specific person. They're Mia Stone's fans. I should have guessed. The language on the signs, the terminology, the specific vocabulary of celebrity fandom: "Heavenly Empress," "get out of the entertainment industry," "home wrecker." These aren't random strangers with opinions. These are devoted followers who have been told, online, in real time, that the woman they love is being wronged by the woman standing in front of them. I can argue with three people. Maybe five. I cannot argue with ten women who are screaming and throwing water bottles and swinging promotional boards like weapons. The first bottle hits the ground beside my foot. The second grazes my shoulder. The promotional board catches the edge of my arm and the plastic cuts a thin line across
I sit back down. "I want to ask you one thing," I say. "Directly. And I want a direct answer." Mia watches me. Her guard is down, but not all the way. I can see the hairline fractures in her composure, the places where the mask cracked when Catherine was in the room, but also the places where it's already rebuilding. Mia Stone doesn't stay unprotected for long. "Was it you," I say, "who put the Heart of the Kingdom in my bag?" The question lands between us. Mia snorts. A short, sharp sound. The closest thing to a laugh she's managed all day. "Thief crying stop thief," she says. "That's your trick, isn't it? Frame me, then turn around and accuse me of framing you. Look at you now, so bold. Liam hasn't seen this side of you." I feel my jaw tighten. "How can you say that?" I lean forward. "Five minutes ago I threw a woman across a hospital room for you. I dislocated her wrist. I recorded her confession. I gave you the evidence. And now you're going to sit there and call me a lia
Vivian Brooks put her phone away, a sly smile lingering on her lips.Scarlett Renwick folded her arms, her tone cold. "You should delete that picture."Vivian raised an eyebrow. "Why? Don’t tell me you’re going to involve yourself in Allison’s life now."Scarlett's voice hardened. "I can’t ignore w
Allie Brooks stirred awake to the sound of Liam Hart’s deep voice. He had just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and was buttoning up his crisp shirt. His hair glistened with droplets of water, and he exuded a calm confidence that made Allie’s stomach churn with mixed emotions.With a
Liam Hart had just left the room, his calm yet piercing presence lingering like an invisible storm.The moment the door closed behind him, Allie Brooks was swarmed by curious voices.“Allie, how do you know Liam Hart? He seemed so… gentle with you.”“The way he tied your shoelaces—oh my God—it was
The hotel’s bathroom was pristine, with a luxurious rainfall shower. Allie fiddled with the knobs, adjusting the water temperature to just the right warmth.She turned to Liam, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a lazy intensity. "The water’s ready. Go in."He didn’t move. Ins







