“I don’t know who you think you are! I brought you on when you were a nobody! I made something out of you. And this is the thanks I get?”
“You’re such a narcissist, Vince! Someone should have stood up to you years ago. People always let you get away with whatever you want. It’s sickening to watch. But that ends now. You’re crooked, and everyone deserves to know the truth.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m tired of looking the other way and letting you get away with treating people the way you always do. You can join your friend Weinstein in prison for all I care.”
Vince bristled and let out a little growl.
The next instant, Vince lunged forward and shoved Thayer.
Thayer stumbled backward, clearly not expecting Vince to get physical. His foot caught on the leg of the chair. For a split second, he tried to recover.
Instead, he fell. His head struck the corner of a small granite-topped coffee table with a sickening crack.
Rowan’s hand flew to her mouth.
The next instant, Thayer collapsed. His body crumpled against the floor, and blood trickled from his temple.
For a heartbeat, everything went still.
Vince stared down at him with a scowl. “Stop being dramatic. Get up.”
No response.
Vince stepped closer and nudged Thayer with his foot. “Stop messing around.”
Still nothing.
Something cold slid through Rowan’s chest.
Why wasn’t Thayer getting up? Why wasn’t he moving at all?
Rowan’s pulse roared in her ears. Why was Vince just standing over Thayer and staring at him?
Then something in Vince’s expression shifted.
It wasn’t grief or horror.
No, it was calculation.
He crouched beside Thayer and pressed two fingers to his neck. Held them there. Muttered something indecipherable under his breath.
Rowan watched, unable to breathe, unable to move, as she waited to see what he’d do next.
He stood. Ran a hand over his face. Sighed.
Then he glanced around.
With the shake of his head, he leaned toward Thayer again.
Vince lifted the man’s arms and began to drag him across the room.
Rowan squinted. What was Vince doing? He should be calling 911!
Maybesheshould call 911. Yet she felt frozen, unable to move.
Vince stopped by a light stand near the edge of the office. It was a portable unit they’d used on set—one of the pieces of equipment that seemed out of place in the room.
