“No, no—shit.” I fumbled to check my phone, unlocking it, heart hammering. Sure enough, a little green checkmark sat next to the backup sync. Everything was there. All my photos, all my private shit. My digital world wide-open.
“Who’s had access to your phone?” Lucia asked sharply.
“No one. Just Anna. She posts race content sometimes, but that’s it.” My eyes scanned the room like it could give me the answer.
Then I saw it—Alexander’s face twisting. Rage flickered beneath the surface.
“Motherfucker,” he muttered.
“What?” Lucia practically yelled.
We both said it at the same time: “Matt.”
Lucia’s face screwed up in confusion. “Who the hell is Matt?”
“My old manager,” I muttered, jaw tight. “The one I fired before the start of the season.”
“Okay…”
“He’s a dick,” I added, because that felt like the only way to describe him. “But the reason I dropped him was because he was leaking information. Where’d I’d be eating with friends during breaks or where I’d be between weekends. It was too frequent to make sense, but Dante did some digging and found out it was Matt who was leaking my location to tabloids and paparazzi.
“He was pissed about being dropped,” I continued. “That was a huge blow to his ego.”
“No way,” Lucia breathed, eyes going wide. “You didn’t tell me any of this. I thought you just, like…switched to Anna.”
“I didn’t want to stress you out,” I admitted “And Anna made it easy. Seamless transition. I handled it quietly, paid him a hefty severance even. I didn’t want anyone to be upset—mom, dad or you, Luce.”
I raked both hands through my hair, the guilt gnawing like acid. “I never thought he’d have access to anything after. But I don’t think I ever changed my passwords. He must’ve still had a device logged in somewhere. It’s…it’s classic Matt.”
Lucia’s jaw was tight now, fury rolling off her in waves. “So help me God, I’m going to find that piece of shit andendhim.”
That pulled Nicola back to life.
She blinked, eyes lifting to Lucia—fire returning, slow and simmering. The corner of her mouth twitched.
“Isn’t the thing upstairs…Theo’s party?” she asked, voice calm. Too calm.
I nodded warily. “Yeah…”
Then she turned.
And strutted down the hall toward the elevators.
“Nic!” Lucia called, hurrying after her. “Hello? Earth to Nicola? What’s happening?”
We all followed, the hallway echoing with our footsteps. The silence in the elevator was sharp and tense, but Nicola? She was composed. Dangerous.
I didn’t know what she was planning—but I knew that look. Her rage was back.
And I would follow her straight to hell if that’s where she was headed.
The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.
Music. Lights. Bass heavy in our chests. Voices rising in laughter and celebration.
The party was already in full swing.
And Nicola Moretti was about to walk straight through it like a goddamn storm.
