“Yes. I want it destroyed before anyone else sees it.”
“Your wish is my command.”
* * *
It’sdifficult getting back into my routines. I’m not supposed to do anything too strenuous for the first couple weeks, including running or swimming in the pool, and the press situation makes it difficult to even go for a walk, so I spend a lot of time sitting around getting pudgy and reading over theWreckedscript for Season 2. They’ve incorporated my attack into the storyline so that no matter how noticeable my scar, the transition will be seamless. Cassius also coaches me on my upcoming interview withThe Wrapwhere the details of my ordeal will finally be revealed to the public.
“Remember, Adam, this is more than just you telling your side of the story, it’s an audition to anyone working in Hollywood right now.”
“I know the stakes. Can I see my face now?”
I’ve been patient all week long, trusting Cassius to know when I’m ready. Every day he applies creams and solvents to my face to minimize the scarring. I’ve traced the ribbed line with my fingertips more times than I can count, hoping for the best.
“Remember this is only the first stage of the healing process,” Cassius says as he leads me to his mother’s bedroom. He’s kept the door locked because there are too many reflective surfaces to hide. He stands me in front of her full-length mirror and draws away the cloth that covers it. I open my eyes to get a good look and what I find is…
Hideous.
I inhale a sharp breath, nauseated by what I see. Crude black stitching climbs like a slipshod ladder from my jawline to just beneath my eye, a literal ravine carving up the surface of my skin. I look like something straight out of Frankenstein, and I begin to doubt Dr. Flemons’s medical “sorcery.” It’s so much worse than I imagined, worse than Cassius led me to believe.
“I look disgusting.” I paw at the stitching as if I could erase it from my face.
“Don’t do that,” he says, grabbing my hand and tugging it away. “You don’t want the stitches to tear or get infected.”
“You sliced up my entire face,” I growl.
“Elliotsliced up your entire face.”
I glare at him because he knows what he did, then turn back to the mirror to inspect the wound from all angles, hoping it will get better, hoping there’s some vantage point where it isn’t quite so noticeable. But it’s impossible. I’m no longer beautiful, not even average-looking. I’m amonster.How could this be my life? Why, of all things, did Cassius choose to mutilate my face? “Why couldn’t he have gone after an arm or a leg?” I say with bitterness. “Even my chest would have been better than my fucking face.”
“He must have wanted it to bedramatic,” Cassius says very carefully. He’s standing behind me watching my reaction closely in the mirror.
“Am I being recorded?” I ask.
“No, I had a team sweep the house and get rid of any hidden devices. There were three in total. One here, one in the bathroom vanity, and one in the gym. Elliot was prolific.”
Elliot, the voyeur, the artist obsessed with his muse.
I go over the events of that horrific day again in my head to make sure I’m not going crazy. I come back to the original reason I was so angry—that damned recording that ruined my chances withSoldier of Chaos—and I recall something Elliot said to me, that he didn’t leak the video, and why would he? If he had unlimited access to my most personal moments, why would he risk having that taken away? He had nothing to gain in making me look stupid. He knew nothing about the movie deal.
In fact, the only person with the right connections and know-how to properly leak a video to the press is standing right beside me. Cassius Peacock, Hollywood’s behind-the-scenes maverick. And he had a motive. He didn’t want me to take that part. Is it possible? Did my boyfriend… sabotage me?
Cassius lays his hands on my shoulders, leans in to kiss just to the side of the grotesque wound he gave me. “Darling, you’re trembling all over. Whatever is the matter?” he asks, just as composed and sly as ever. He’d called himself an actor. Is he acting right now?
I spin around and back him up against the wall until I’ve caged him with my arms on either side. “I know what you did to me.”
“And what’s that?” he asks with a cunning, calculated look, the look of someone who knows already what I’m going to say, someone who’s been scheming and plotting in preparation for this very moment.
“You’re the one who leaked the video.”
Chapter28
Cassius
Oh dear. Plot twist. Adam is cleverer than I thought. See, this is why you shouldn’t make assumptions about beautiful people because they may end up surprising you. I’m a little proud, even, that he figured it out. My sweet, susceptible Adam is learning.
“What video?” I ask nonchalantly.
“You know what video,” he says with a now-familiar fury in his eyes, a low simmer that at any moment could engulf us both in fiery flames. Should I admit my wrongdoing and arm myself against Adam’s wrath, or should I lie through my teeth? Would he believe me? Perhaps it is time for a confession. Surely our relationship can withstand it. And it would make things much simpler in the long run. Deceiving Adam has become a full-time job.
