“It’s not my family.”
Impatience flashed across his features, and within seconds, he was back in front of me. He was bigger, broader. He loomed over me in a way that was not protective or desirable.
His breath was hot on my face when he leaned in to speak low. “You’re my wife. That makes us family.”
“I don’t know what you did, how you managed to get me to sign that marriage certificate, but I know it’s not something I did with a clear head. Annulment or not, Will, we are not staying married.”
His hand shot out, wrapping around my upper arm, and he yanked me into his personal space. His fingers bit into my flesh, squeezing so hard I felt them grind against bone. Blinking back the tears, I forced myself to stare up at him, refusing to look away.
“If you try and divorce me, I will take half your bank account and make you waste what’s left on legal fees. You’re mine, Aerie, and I never give up what’s mine.”
“Let go,” I ground out.
He squeezed tighter. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from flinching.
His eyes flared and so did his nostrils. “I don’t know where this sudden… defiant streak is coming from, but I suggest you drop it before you really piss me off.”
I ripped my arm free, nearly falling back on my ass. Straightening, I glared at him, putting some distance between us. My chest was heaving, my breaths coming in short gasps.
Will advanced, and I moved back instinctively until my back hit the wall and he was caging me in with both arms. “Let me tell you how it’s going to be from here on out,” he intoned. “You’re going to drop this silly lawsuit and move to my house in Beverly Hills. We’re going to attend events and walk red carpets together and become the music industry’s newest king and queen. You will walk away from your current label and sign with Solberg, and by this time next year, we’re all going to be much, much richer. Solberg Records will no longer be number two in music. We’ll rule at the very top.”
He should just add world domination to his plans, because he sure was sounding like some kind of maniacal tyrant.
I stood there, completely numb, for long moments. Fear coursed through my veins so thickly it robbed me of my own thoughts.
Then something happened.
Clarity.
Clarity so strong I swear I grew a pair of golden balls right then and there.
Yes, my knees were quivering. My hands were clammy and my stomach felt as though I had day-two cramps, even though I wasn’t on my period. (Seriously, day two is the worst!) I knew Will wasn’t bluffing, and I knew I was walking the edge of the anger I’d always managed to not instill in him before…
But how dare he?
How dare he try and rule me like I was less than? Like I was nothing but a piece of arm candy. A piece of property to be bought, sold, and traded. A business transaction with boobs.
No.
Oh, hell no.
All that fear coursing through me morphed to rage. White-hot, self-serving fury.
I lifted my hands between us, planting them firmly on his chest, and shoved. He moved back enough that I was able to slip out from beneath him.
Squaring my shoulders, I spun on him. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I am not one of your daddy’s minions. I might have let you do this to me in the past, but never again. The only reason you’re so desperate to keep me is because I have what you want. Power.” I took a step forward, lifting my chin. “You can’t have it and you can’t have me.”
My balls shriveled up just as fast as they grew because the look on his face was emasculating.
“Mac,” I yelled out the second Will took a menacing lunge forward.
I fell back, the door burst open, and Will teetered in his designer shoes the second his payback was cut short.
“Ms. Boone,” Mac implored, rushing to my side as my other guard filled the doorway. “What happened?”
I glanced quickly at Will, who was trying really, super hard to conceal the sheer vileness of his true face. The thing that seemed most shocking was how convincing he was. One would never have realized the violence with which he was about to come at me if they hadn’t personally witnessed it.
But I’d seen. More than once. Enough that it was almost all I saw when I looked at him now. Ever since that morning I woke up shackled to him.
His eyes narrowed, Will’s stare became beady and hawk-like. I heard the threat, though none was voiced.
My balls were still shriveled, my brain going numb. I’d had just about all I could take. These last few months, which bled into these last few weeks, had nearly drained me.
I wasn’t kidding when I told myself to claw my way out. There was no way in hell I was going to walk. My balance was too unsteady.
“Ms. Boone,” Mac said again, moving so his large frame was between me and Will, blocking him from sight. It didn’t matter, though. I still saw him. I still felt the air around me vibrating with threat. “What happened? Why are you on the floor?”
Mac carefully helped me up. Even after I was on my feet, I held on to his wrist just a little longer than was really necessary.
“Did he strike you?” Mac asked, his voice low and serious.
His eyes implored me to tell the truth.
Unfortunately, at this moment, the fear in this room outweighed the rest.
“Oh, no!” I said, feigning shock and surprise. I released his wrist instantly. “It’s these damn heels. They might be designer, but it doesn’t make them any easier to walk in.”
Mac frowned.
I smiled, dazzling him with my professionally whitened teeth. “I’m fine, really.”
Will laughed. “I gotta admit she looks gorgeous in those heels, but she never could walk in them.” He appeared over Mac’s shoulder, warning and approval ripe in his gaze.
I cleared my throat, averting my eyes. “I called for you to ask you to please call downstairs and have them bring my car around. I’m sure the press is still lurking out there, and I’m tired.”
“Of course.” He inclined his head and gestured to my other guard in the door. Once that was done, his eyes searched mine again, and I smiled.
He stepped aside, but didn’t leave the room. Thankfully.
“I have places to be,” I told Will.
“Of course. Everyone wants a piece of my wife.” Will held out his arms for a hug.
My stomach clenched so hard I nearly doubled over. I stepped forward because it was easier than making a scene and let him wrap his arms around me. He lifted me off my feet and twirled me. I made the dutiful sound of a happy squeal and let my fingers bite into his arms a little too hard.
When he stopped, he made sure he was facing away from the door, his back to my guards. Then he put me down and squeezed tight, wrapping himself around me. “The harder you fight, the worse it’s going to be for you, babe.”
It was as though he didn’t even know my name. Or he thought he was above using it.
“When I’m done with you, all you’ll have left is me.”
I yanked away from him and brushed past. “Good-bye, Will.”
“See you later,” he said, satisfaction in his tone.
I exited without looking back. The second we were in the elevator, I let out a shaky breath.
“Are you okay, Ms. Boone?” Mac asked.
“Never better.” I lied.
Truth was Will scared me.
Nate
The black Lamborghini pulled up in front of Solberg Records, sliding right up to the curb near the entrance in a no-parking zone. The doorman at the huge glass double doors glanced out, but didn’t exit to tell us to move.
“You’re so famous you can park in a no-parking zone and not get towed?” I asked, partially awed.
“This from the guy who parked my Jeep on a sidewalk in front of the music building. At least I’m still on the road,” Ten cracked.
“That Jeep is so ghetto people probably saw it and thought it broke down there. This Lambo? No
t quite as pathetic.”
Ten smirked. “True.”
“Want me to open my door and fall out? Make a big scene, act like I’m injured and we’re gonna sue? Free parking for life then.”
“You’re here for a job interview. I think trying to blackmail free parking isn’t the best way to get hired.”
I sighed and muttered, “People are so touchy these days.”
“I’m not coming in.” Ten went on.
I turned in the seat to face him. “What?”
“If I go in there with you, it’s going to look like their direct competition is scoping out their business plans. I told you Rolland Solberg wants my record label’s top spot, and I’m the main reason he can’t get it.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t take this deal,” I replied, thinking about what he said.
“Why?”
“Because this banger I’m about to write might kick you out of the top spot.”
Ten gave me the finger. With both hands.
I held up mine. “Down, boy. We can’t afford any accidental angry whizzing. I didn’t bring an extra shirt.”
Ten dropped his hands. “You piss on an audience one time,” he mumbled.
“So I’m going in alone.” I glanced back at the giant shiny building. I wondered if birds ever flew by just to check themselves out.
“Not exactly.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and he sighed. “Becca’s meeting you inside.”
I made a horrified face.
Ten laughed. “I know, but she insisted. Not only does she want to rep you on the deal, but she wants info.”
“What kind of info?”
“The kind that tells her what Solberg is up to with Aerie. I’m sure Becca will report back to my label with the 4-1-1.”
“Business rivalry.” I pursed my lips.
“Well, considering Solberg is trying to steal Aerie right out from under us…”
“Aerie is with Time Track?” I asked.
“Yeah, so why on earth would she ditch them to sign with number two?”
I held up my hand and pointed to my ring finger. “Bling-bling.”
Ten made a noise. “Maybe. Anyway, she’ll meet you upstairs. You’re going to the executive level.”
“Maybe I should’ve worn a tie,” I commented.
“Do you own a tie?”
I nodded. “It has Darth Vader on it.”
“Probably good you didn’t, then.”
My voice was sage. “Yeah, maybe they only like the Light Side.”
“Get out of my car, Nate.”
“Luke, I am your faaa-ther,” I said, doing my best deep voice and heavy breathing.
“Out,” he ordered again, but he was laughing.
The second I was on the sidewalk, he pulled back out into traffic without missing a beat. It was like everyone on the road just sort of paused to make room for him on the pavement.
I had no idea how long this meeting was going to last, but I was a little more nervous because of what Ten said. Was Solberg trying to steal an artist from his label? Was that legal?
It probably was legal. Anything in this business seemed to be if you threw enough money at it. I wouldn’t exactly call it ethical, though.
Come to think of it, they probably would have appreciated the Vader tie. They seemed to be part of the Dark Side.
I made a sound. The man in a suit walking beside me glanced over. “Should have worn a Star Wars tie with that,” I told him.
He hurried away.
Maybe he wasn’t a Star Wars fan.
The doorman opened the door for me, and I stepped in, the AC blasting me instantly. There were several rows of elevators, all labeled with different floor numbers. Off to the side, there was one elevator with golden paneled doors and a plaque above it with the words Executive Level.
I went to the doors, about to push the button, when a white-gloved hand reached out to stop me.
“Ah!” I said, shocked because this dude came out of nowhere. I glanced around. He was wearing a funny hat and jacket. “Were you hiding in that plant?” I demanded, jabbing my finger at a gigantic green thing nearby.
“I do not hide in plants,” he responded. He was British. “You walked right by me. You were distracted by the shiny door.”
“Think that’s real gold?” I asked.
“This goes to the executive level.”
“I can read.” I pointed to the sign.
“I was beginning to wonder,” he muttered.
My eyes narrowed, and I shoved his hand away and hit the button for my ride.
“You cannot go up there without an appointment.”
“I have one.”
He gave me a withering stare. “Name.”
“Nate Roth. To see Rolland Solberg.”
The man seemed surprised, then spoke into some kind of phone/walkie talkie. A second later, his eyes slid to mine, still surprised. “Identification, please.”
I fished it out and handed it over. “I was having a good hair day in this pic.”
The man rolled his eyes, glanced at it, then cleared his throat. The elevator opened. “You may go.”
“Dilly, dilly,” I said in my best Brit accent. I waved at him as the doors closed between us.
The cart chimed when I arrived on the executive level, and I emerged into a small hallway with an intricate tile medallion on the floor. Ahead of me, out into the main room, a sparkling crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. I couldn’t help but wonder who they paid to clean that.
Oomph. I knocked into something and bounced back. Something else hit the floor with a thud, and lighter, scattering sounds filled my ears.
There was a loud gasp. “Watch it!” a woman practically shrieked.
“Careful,” I told her. “You screech any louder and that light fixture’s gonna crack.”
Her dark eyes rounded so wide I was worried I might see her brain. “Did you just nearly run me over and then insult me?” She glanced down at her bag, which had toppled onto the floor and spilled out like twelve pounds worth of crap.
“Are you moving?” I asked, bending down to pick it up.
“Here, Ms. Boone, let us help you,” said a bulky man in a dark jacket and jeans, appearing at her side.
“I got it,” I said, waving him back. My hand closed around a metal thing with handles. “Is this a torture device?”
“Give me that!” She snatched it out of my hand and dropped down beside me to grab the bag and shove it inside.
“Ms. Boone—”
“I got it, Mac. Thank you,” she said.
I grabbed a glitter-saturated notebook with the word Sparkle on the cover and sat back. “I’ve always wanted to know what girls write in their diaries,” I quipped and started to crack it open.
She gasped and lunged at me. I was expecting it, so I jolted backward, holding the book out of reach. We both went down right there on the lobby floor, my body under hers.
“Don’t you dare read that,” she gasped out, wiggling up my body and reaching for the notebook I was holding over my head.
All her squirming was making me forget about the book. She smelled nice. Light and fresh… with a hint of fruit.
Sort of like an upscale version of Fruity Pebbles.
Did I mention Fruity Pebbles is my favorite?
I was so distracted that she ripped the book out of my hand and made a triumphant sound. “Ha!”
I grabbed her by the waist and rolled, pinning her beneath me.
“Hey!”
“You smell like my favorite cereal,” I told her.
Her eyes widened. “Mac!”
I was hauled off her in seconds, my hands restrained behind my back as Mac towed me backward. She scurried to her feet, pulling down her cute little skirt. It was kinda flouncy; it floated out around her hips like a giant red ruffle.
Her top was hot-pink lace and her sneakers weren’t actually sneakers, but heels.
Aerie Boone was hot. Way hotter in person than in any
tabloid.
She bent to pick up the rest of her scattered stuff.
I started to move forward to help her, but Mac tightened his hold. I glanced over my shoulder at him. “You can let go now.”
“I’ll let go when security gets here.”
“If you mean that British guy that’s in charge of the elevator, he’s not going to be much help.”
Mac’s lips turned upward as he fought a smile.
“Just let him go,” Aerie said. “Clearly, he’s a moron.”
Mac released me, and I bent to pick up a lipstick and a roll of Lifesavers near my feet.
“How did you even get up here?” she asked, flustered.
I opened up the candy and pulled out a green one. I made a face and offered it to her. “I prefer red.”
She stared at me, dumbfounded. I shrugged and stuck the Lifesaver in my pocket, then fished out the red one that had been beneath it. After popping it in my mouth, I folded the end and handed it to her along with the lipstick.
She took the items. “You just ate my candy.”
I grinned.
Becca turned the corner at that moment and spotted us. “What’s going on here?”
“She dropped all her stuff,” I explained.
“I dropped my stuff because you weren’t watching where you were going,” Aerie snapped.
“Maybe you’re the one who ran into me,” I pointed out.
She gasped, surprised I would suggest such a thing.
“We’re going to be late,” Mac announced.
Aerie tucked the handle of her bag in the crook of her arm and spun away. I watched her go, that red skirt bouncing with every step.
Becca cleared her throat. “Pissing off the woman you’re supposed to work with is not a smart idea.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I answered.
Ten’s manager made a sound. “You don’t argue with girls like that.”
“Girls like what?” I asked.
“Girls with money and power.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You talk about Ten like that when he’s not around?”
Her eyes widened a fraction. “What?”
I held her eyes, my stare steady. “You do know that girls like that, and men like Ten—hell, any celebrity or artist—they’re just like everyone else, right? They’re people. Maybe they wouldn’t have chips on their shoulders if people like you didn’t talk about them or to them that way.”
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