My stomach twists. My career– everything I have fought for dangling in a thread.
Distancing myself from him, from his heat, from the trap closing around me. "Stay the hell away from me. And whatever happens here isn't real." I rasp, shoving my phone back into my pocket.
He doesn't move, he only watches me, that cruel, knowing smile curving his mouth again, blood still bright against his lip.
"You'll come back" he says softly. "Because you already belong here"
I choke back the tremor in my chest, force my steps towards the door. My pulse hammered, my palms sweating but I didn't look back.
Not until the door shuts behind me and even then, I still feel him.
—
The flashbulbs blind me before I even step into the ballroom.
"Ethan! Ethan, over here!"
"Are you dating him?"
"Is Hollywood's golden boy in bed with the Mafia?"
The wall of reporters surges forward, microphones shoved in my face, questions slashing through the air like blades. I push through, jaw locked, sunglasses hiding the fury in my eyes.
My manager is hovering by my side. "Smile, don't look pissed."
I ignore him, shoving through the crowd. My chest tightened with every click of the cameras.
Inside the studio lobby, it doesn't get better. Crew members whispers, staring, some smirk, some pity and it all makes my skin burns
Then I heard it.
"Well well. Hollywood's prince charming caught with a real prince of darkness"
I turn around. Mark– my co-star, the one who's always hated my spotlight. His grin is venomous.
"Guess that explains why you never had chemistry with your leading ladies." He sneers. "You were too busy sneaking off with the mafia's"
The room chuckles and heat flared in my chest.
I step forward. "Better with the Mafia than a washed up extra who only gets cast because they need someone forgettable in the background"
Gasps rippled, Mark's smirk falters. I press harder, eyes narrowed. "Careful Mark. Keep talking and the only role you will get is playing yourself– irrelevant and bitter"
Laughter breaks out. Mark's face reddens, he storms off muttering curses. My pulse pounds, satisfaction cutting through the humiliation.
"Enough" my manager hissed, dragging me aside. "You want to torch your career? Because that's exactly what you are doing"
"My career's already in the flames" I snap, pulling free.
He shoved a folder into my hands. "Not if you play along. PR wants you paired with Sofia"
I blink. "Sofia?"
He nods, smug. "Your co-star. Beautiful, single and free of scandals. You two date for the press. They eat that stuff up"
My stomach twisted. "So the answer is another lie?"
"It's survival," he shoots back. "You either sell them this fantasy or kiss your career goodbye. "
Fuck. I understand.
Hours later, the press conference feels like an execution. I stepped to the podium, my manager nodding from the sidelines urging me to follow the script.
I grip the edges, forcing my voice steady. "First of all, it shows we actors don't have privacy for ourselves and the brand we created. The images circulating are misleading, they were snapped from strange angles making it look misleading. The man you all saw– is the Mafia prince and I went to give him my appreciation for his donation." My throat tightened, but I forced the words. "And we hate each other. Nothin more. Nothin else.
Flashes burst, question flying
"And if rejecting this rumor means losing donations, losing money, even losing the role I've worked hard for– so be it."
The room erupts, my Manager's face looks like a horror film. I step down, my chest dumb with a slight sting.
But across the room, I saw the darkest eyes staring at me. He.
His eyes lock on mine, angry, his expression stoic and unreadable
After making sure the reporters got their pictures, videos and question answered, and the hall a bit quiet, i went straight to him
"You arrogant bastard," I spat. "Hope you heard what I said? We still aren't friends and I still hate and want to see you suffer"
He didn't talk, his hands in his pocket as if he was trying to hide his anger. Only his eyes were on me.
"You've embarrassed me," he said softly.
"Good," I snapped. "Maybe now you will understand I don't play by your rules again"
Finally he stepped closer to me, the tension in the air heightened.
"You think you can run to your press, your little fans and studios and they will save you" he leaned closer, his hot breath fanning me. "But they don't own you"
My fists clenched. "And you do? You bought me with a billion dollars? Is that what you think?"
His smile deepens. "Not bought, claimed"
Rage floods me. "If you don't back off, I'll go to the police and have every discriminating video, picture and evidence of your bad doings put into light and you will rot in prison."
He laugh slowly, his grin getting wilder
"You still don't understand" he steps even closer, his body pressing mine. "I own the prison, the judges and the cops you will run to? They worship me"
My face burns. "But I don't"
"Oh Ethan. Haven't you noticed yet" he smirk
I shove past him, refusing to let him see the effect he is having on me, the tremor in my hands, the pulse thunders in my ears and the tightness of my throat.
I didn't look back because if I do, he will see the truth in my eyes and maybe he's right.