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94 Hold the mustard
Last Updated:
2025-12-21 21:27:52
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The Actor's Contract 95 S.P.O.R.T
Date = 12 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - EnriqueBack in the bedroom, Aria is still on the bed, now sitting up with her legs crossed under the sheet, staring at the phone in her hand.She looks up when I step through the door, and a soft smile curves her mouth — the kind that always makes my chest tighten, like she’s been waiting for me.“Did they break in?” she asks, voice light, but her eyes search my face.“They came. They saw. They interrogated.”Her laugh bubbles out, quick and warm, chasing away the sting of the earlier chaos. She tilts her head, hair brushing her cheek. “You fed them?”“Can’t kill them. I’m too pretty for prison.”She sets her phone aside and pats the spot beside her.I go. I always go. Always will. The bed sighs under my weight as I sink down, close enough to breathe her in — soap, bread, the faint ghost of her perfume. I offer her half of my sandwich, and she accepts without hesitation, biting into it like it’s communion. She chews slowly, eye
The Actor's Contract 94 Hold the mustard
Date = 12 AugustI’m done hiding and sulking.Place = San Francisco (Black Pit)Our new home.POV - EnriqueWe lay tangled in the soft cotton sheets of the bed in our new ‘home’, still sticky from the kind of slow sex that makes your chest feel cracked open and full at the same time. Drifting in that lull right after climax when everything feels both weightless and impossibly heavy.Her head is tucked into the crook of my shoulder, one leg hooked lazily over my hip as if she owns me. Because she does. Her breath ghosts over my ribs, slow and steady, and my heart’s trying to keep time with it.I should say something. Anything.But I don’t.Because I know what she’s going to say before she even says it.“I know it’s not ideal,” she whispers, her fingers absently playing with the edge of the sheet that drapes over my rather enthusiastic manhood. “But maybe we should postpone the wedding a little?”Her voice is soft. Hesitant.And it cuts.I don’t answer. My fingers keep tracing the insid
The Actor's Contract 93 Done
Date = 10 AugustA few days of hiding, getting my shit together.Place = San Francisco (On a stretch of road)But in this group, tragedy won’t let you hide for long.POV - EnriqueI’ve been staying at the club. Claiming to work.But the truth is — I’ve been hiding.Processing my own damn thoughts. Processing the truth that’s been rotting somewhere beneath my ribs. Processing the betrayal.I’m angry.Angry at the world. At Jackson. At everything I thought I knew about my life.First, Xander is not my father.And Jackson knew. Ilkay knew. Barry knew. Even fucking Rosa knew.Now my real father’s name is out there. A powerful devil whom Alexander feared. Envied. Enough to steal his sperm.And Jackson knows that name. Barry knows.It feels as if everyone knows everything about me … except me.I haven’t confronted them yet. Not Jackson. Not even Aria.Oh, they all tried. The girls told what I overheard.Alejandro tried. Logan tried. Damion. Axel. Ilkay from abroad.Except my darn twin.But
The Actor's Contract 92 More secrets
Date = 8 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - EnriqueJust as I reach the entrance — just before I run into the kitchen — I hear Rosa’s voice from inside.It’s not loud. But something in it stops me cold. I lean against the wall and peep through the open door.“Sky … garota (Portuguese = girl) … you don’t understand. It’s complicated.”There’s a tremble in it. No, not just a tremble. A rawness. Like something bleeding behind her words.Damion’s gone. Mel’s gone. Axel must be waiting down the hall. But I can’t move. I can’t stop listening.Aria’s hand flies to her heart like she’s trying to keep it from falling straight out of her chest.Sky’s eyes shine — not with tears, but with that fierce, armored fury that only shows up when grief gets tired of being quiet. She barks a laugh — sharp, humorless, the kind that makes the hairs on your arms stand up.“Oh, I’m dating complicated.”Aria elbows her — gently, but enough to remind her she’s not alone.“Tone,” she whispers.Sky ti
The Actor's Contract 91 A car, a knife, and a hair
Date = 8 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - Enrique“I need some food,” Jackson mutters like he’s issuing a court order, not stating a basic human need. His voice is low, sharp, and tinged with that ever-present irritation that makes you want to punch him or feed him. Probably both.“Thank heaven,” Miguel exhales dramatically two steps behind us, throwing his head back like he’s just crossed a desert. “I thought I’m never tasting food again.”Poor bastard. Being my twin’s unofficial emotional support minion must be exhausting. And they’re the same flavor of broody, which means any day now they’ll either start a bromance podcast or feature in a crime documentary titled ‘Deadly Men With Even Deadlier Silences’.But he’s right. I’m starving. My stomach is eating itself.The smell hits us before we reach the entrance — fresh-baked bread still warm from the oven, garlic butter melting into a sinful substance, and something thick and meaty that smells so good it could persuade a
The Actor's Contract 90 Hunger has no bounds
Date = 8 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - AriaThe kitchen hums with low chatter and clattering pans — right up until Sky lifts her hand to her mouth and goes perfectly still. Her eyes lock on the doorway, and the warmth in the room drains like someone cracked a thermostat to freezing.“Fock,” she breathes.A shadow fills the entrance.“I fucking told you to stay in bed and rest,” a deep voice growls.My shoulders jump. My spine snaps straight. Sky just smirks at the storm walking straight toward her, slow and wicked, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.Slowly, I turn to look at him — I haven’t seen him up close since the crash. Not really seen him. Just a moment here, a second there, a brief blur at the funeral.He looks like absolute shit. Well, as close to shit as a hunk like him can get.Dark shadows bruise the skin beneath those scary eyes. His hair is a mess — more than usual — and he’s pale in that gray kind of way that comes from sleepless nights and t
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