I tense.
Gregory Stallworth. My agent for nine years. The man who claims he discovered me at nineteen.
The man I’m increasingly certain is stealing from me.
“What did he want?”
“It’s a reminder about a charity gala. He said you need to make an appearance.” His eyes stay on the screen. “He’s got that tone. The planning one.”
“He can arrange whatever he wants. I’m not going. I’m done playing puppet.”
I walk to the fridge and pull it open, looking for something that isn’t green juice or Riley’s experimental cooking. There’s a soda can at the back. The twins didn’t find it where I hid it. Opening it, I drink.
“Dec.” Riley’s voice softens, losing its usual brightness. “You can’t ignore him. He’ll make things difficult.”
“He already makes things difficult. That’s his default setting. It’s always been.”
Nine years ago, I was trying to navigate my grief and new contract when Gregory swooped in. He promised to handle everything, and I was too exhausted to question it. It didn’t take long to realize handling everything meant controlling every aspect of my career, finances, and public image.
“Just be careful,” Rowan says. “He’s not going to let go easily.”
“I’ll deal with it.”
“Dec…”
“I said I’ll deal with it.”
Riley shoots Rowan a look, and he drops it. They know better than to push when it comes to Gregory.
When they leave, the penthouse feels too big. I text Ivy, but it’s marked unread. Walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city, I stare at the bright lights below that contrast with the dark sky. Somewhere on the streets, a couple is holding hands and laughing and enjoying life together.
For the first time in years, I feel like I’m imagining a life I’ve never touched. One I want to live badly.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Ivy:
I should probably sleep. I have a big day tomorrow setting up research protocols. Thanks for the conversation, King. You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.
The tension in my shoulders eases slightly.
King:
Surprisingly? Should I be offended?
Ivy:
Why should you? Can’t your ego handle it? Thanks, Mr. Surprisingly easy to talk to.
I laugh.
King:
Anytime. You’re welcome. Sleep well, my brilliant doctor.
Ivy:
Nope. Don’t call me that.
