Chapter 8

Shane pulled his gaze back. His voice was completely flat as he replied, "Nothing."

But Yasmine wasn't blind.

She had caught his expression just now—that focused, searching, almost captivated look.

She had also overheard the people nearby gushing about Lena.

"Who was that on the piano? She's stunning!"

"Her technique was incredible. Total professional standard!"

"I just looked her up. It looks like she filled in for Anna. Name's Lena Chapman… The heiress to the Chapman family?"

"Lena Chapman? No way! Isn't she a notorious party girl?"

"It really is her, though…"

The hushed whispers pricked at Yasmine's ears like needles.

As she glanced at Shane's still somewhat distracted profile, her fingernails dug deep into her palms.

…

In the backstage dressing room, Lena changed out of her dress and put her street clothes back on. Just as she finished zipping up, the door swung open.

"Ms. Chapman, I certainly didn't expect that," Yasmine said, her smile never reaching her eyes. "You really hid that trick up your sleeve."

Lena glanced at her through the mirror. "Do you need something?"

"Nothing. Just thought you were full of surprises," Yasmine said, walking up behind her.

"Besides smashing cars and beating people up, you actually play piano? It was a pretty good show tonight. You had Shane completely spellbound."

Lena remained expressionless. "So?"

"So are you doing this to get back at me? Trying to seduce Shane with your piano skills so he looks at you differently? Too bad, though. No matter how much you put on a show, I'm the only one he loves. No matter how well you play, you're nothing more than a passing distraction to him."

Lena's hand fixed on her hair froze. She slowly turned around and looked Yasmine dead in the eye. "Yasmine, do you have a persecutory delusion? Like I said, I don't like Shane.

"If you want him, take him and get out of my face. And drop those low-class tricks of yours. Stop sending those disgusting videos every single day. Even if you're not bored of it, I'm sick of looking at it."

"You…"

Yasmine was enraged by the contempt in her eyes.

She stared at Lena's breathtakingly beautiful face, flawless even without makeup, and those eyes that always held a defiant glint. Suddenly, the jealousy and resentment simmering inside her erupted like a volcano.

Why? Why did this woman get to keep Shane for three whole years? Why could she play the piano so well? Why did she still cling to that high-and-mighty pride even after falling so low?

Unable to hold back any longer, Yasmine reached into her purse and pulled out a box cutter.

"Lena, what gives you the right to be so arrogant?" She tightened her grip on the handle, a malicious glint filling her eyes.

"I wonder if Shane would ever look at you again if that pretty face of yours were ruined."

The moment the words left her mouth, she gripped the knife and slashed wildly toward Lena's face.

In a flash, Lena stepped aside to dodge, grabbed Yasmine's wrist in a firm lock, and twisted it hard.

"Ah!" Yasmine shrieked in pain, and the knife clattered to the floor.

Taking advantage of the momentum, Lena pinned her viciously against the wall.

Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling weight as she told Yasmine, "Yasmine, I'm warning you. This is the last time. Don't mess with me again. When I lose my mind, I'm capable of anything. Save those cheap tricks for Shane, but keep them away from me. Otherwise, I'll send you straight to hell!"

With that, she let go, picked up the knife from the floor, and drove it into the wall right beside Yasmine's cheek while she watched in pure terror.

"Get out!"

Yasmine scrambled and crawled out of the room in a panic.

As Lena watched her run off, she rubbed her temples in exhaustion.

This was tiring.

Leaving the theatre, Lena drove back home.

Halfway there, two black sedans suddenly swerved from the front and back, boxing her in and forcing her to pull over.

Before Lena could react, the driver's side door was yanked open.

Shane stood outside the car, his eyes as cold as ice. "Get out."

Lena stayed seated. "Shane, what the hell are you doing?"

Shane reached straight in and hauled her out. His grip was so violent that she stumbled several steps before regaining her footing.

"Answer me." His voice was low but laced with terrifying rage as he glared at her. "Why did you ruin Yasmine's face?"

Lena froze for a second. "What?"

"Still playing dumb?" Shane grabbed her wrist and dragged her right into the headlights. "What's with the cuts on Yasmine's face? She said you used a knife on her!"

It clicked for Lena right then. Looking at Shane, she suddenly felt like laughing.

"Shane, she says it, and you just believe her?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Shane's gaze cut like a knife. "Are you going to tell me she cut her own face just to frame you?"

"Why not?" Lena shot back. "It's not like it's her first time pulling something like that."

"Enough!" Shane cut her off, his voice dripping with disappointment.

"Lena, I know you hate me, and you hate Yasmine. But how could you do something like this? Disfiguring her? How could you bring yourself to do that!"

"I said it wasn't me!" Lena yanked her hand back, her voice turning icy cold. "Yasmine was the one who came at my face with a knife! I was defending myself!"

"Defending yourself?" Shane sneered. "Defending yourself by snatching the knife and slashing back at her? Lena, do you take me for an idiot?"

Lena stared at him for a few seconds before deciding she no longer had the energy to explain herself.

What was the point? He would never believe her anyway.

He didn't before, he didn't now, and he never would in the future.

"Believe whatever you want." She turned to walk away.

Shane grabbed her firmly. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Home."

"Did I say you could leave?" Shane's voice turned cold. "You think you can just pull something like this and walk away scot-free?"

Lena turned to look at him. "Then what do you want to do? Call the cops on me? Or do what you did last time, force me into an abortion and tear down my house?"

Shane felt a sharp pang at the sheer despair in her eyes, but he quickly masked it with his usual cold demeanor.

"Since you refuse to show an ounce of remorse…"

He let go of her and waved a hand at the bodyguards behind him. "Then go cool off in the river!"