Karen tried to restore order, but she was drowned out by the noise. After a few failed attempts, she resorted to barking for silence like an angry PE teacher.
“Wow,” she said as she finally reclaimed control of the room. She pretended to mop her forehead. “They told me this would be an easy job. Clearly, they lied.”
Emma’s pulse was still skittering as Karen turned to her.
Nowhere to run.
“Well Emma,” Karen went on, eyes gleaming. “I think we all know where this is going. Tell us about writing Lucen—and the stubborn theory that you based him on the handsome gentleman sitting right next to you.”
A small, unhelpful sound caught in her throat. Darren’s presence pressed against her skin, like a physical touch. She had sidestepped this question so many times it should’ve been effortless. But never with him sittingright there.
“I think we all see our own Lucen,” she managed, the words smooth from repetition. “As for his appeal—for any morally grey character—Ithink we’re drawn to them because they reflect the parts of ourselves we don’t always admit to. The anger. The obsession. The loneliness.”
The room had gone still. She felt them hanging on her words. Felt the connection, like they were all joined in the moment. It was the same reverent sensation she got after a particularly good reading.
“Writing them is like pulling your own dark thoughts into the light. And hoping someone else says, yeah...I’ve felt that too.”
Darren sat silent beside her. Emma didn’t dare look at him.
Karen leaned in with a wolfish grin, clearly loving the turn this had taken.
“Okay, but real talk—Catlyn sells her soul to Lucen. What about you, Emma? Would you trust Lucen with your soul?”
Emma hesitated. The audience seemed to hold their breath.
“Trust? No.” She let the pause stretch. The words took shape in her head, just like when she was writing. Her lips curved by the tiniest fraction. “But I would still give it to him.”
The crowd erupted again, shrill with delight.
Beside her, Darren gave a low chuckle. “Dangerous answer.”
Emma finally risked a glance sideways. “It’s the questions that are dangerous. You never know where they lead.”
Their eyes caught and held. Just for a second, but it was enough. The world fell away.
Emma forgot she was on a stage. Forgot about the audience. In that moment, the way he looked at her pulled her into a space that felt theirs entirely.
She drew a shaky breath and watched Darren Cole smile at her—the world feeling both upside down and entirely right at the same time.
Chapter 13
Onstage chaos, check. Viral chaos loading.
The applause and screams still rang in her ears.
Emma stepped offstage with her heart hammering, trying not to trip over a cable—or her own feet. Back in the green room, a staffer pressed a cold bottle of water into her hand, someone else patting her back with a quick “well done” as they passed.
Jenna almost shoulder-checked her as she marched toward the door, steps sharp with irritation. Karen followed in her wake, thanking Emma for a good panel before rushing off to the next thing, like this was a perfectly normal Friday morning. Emma felt dazed, drifting without direction.
And then—
“Good answer.”
The voice was low, still carrying traces of amusement. And something about it...steadied her. Instantly. Made the room spin just a little slower.
She turned.
Darren was only a few steps behind. The backstage noise seemed to fade around him as if he moved through it untouched. Even under the unflattering green room lights, he was so handsome it bordered on unreal.
