LOGINI stare at him.
My brain is running the sentence back — what if I feel guilty — and trying to land on the interpretation that makes it metaphor. Literary reference. Academic observation. Anything other than what his face tells me it is.
The shame arrives before the anger. I'm sitting on my husband's lap in his office, and the shame arrives, specific and sharp, the feeling of being the kind of person who needs her husband to hand her sister a check because her father couldn't bring himself to ask for help directly. "I'll pay you back," I say. "If Dad's company really is in trouble, I'll treat the five million as a loan. I'll find a way to repay you." Liam looks at me like I've said something absurd. "Do you have to be this formal with me? It's five million." "There's a difference between formality and principle. You didn't give that money to Vivian because you believe in her. You gave it to her because she's my sister and you didn't want to say no in front of me. That's not the same thing." He's quiet for a moment. "Let's set this aside for now," I say. "Tonight, I'll go to Dad's house. I'll ask him directly. If the company really is struggling, we
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
Allie stood outside Cheryl's hospital room at Ruian Hospital, her heart oddly calm despite the chaos inside. The door was ajar, and heart-wrenching cries echoed out.For a moment, Allie hesitated, her hand hovering near the doorframe. She didn’t know why she had come. Was it to face Cheryl? To pro
Allie felt her patience snap as she glared at Liam. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish by bringing me here?”Her voice was sharp, her frustration barely concealed. She turned to leave, but Liam’s firm grip on her arm stopped her in her tracks.“If you walk out now,” Liam said, his tone calm
"Allie," Nick's voice was low, almost pleading, as he stepped closer to her under the late afternoon sun. His figure, lean but tense, seemed a shadow of its former self. The confident, commanding man she once knew was now filled with raw vulnerability.“Allie,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “I’v
The room fell silent, all eyes on Allie.Cher’s smile was razor-sharp. “Allie and Mr. Hart... well, they have a special connection.”Her words hung in the air like a trap. Whispers started, suspicion spreading like wildfire.Kane raised an eyebrow. “Allie, you know Liam Hart?”Allie hesitated, then







