Bound By The Billionaire Star's Lies

il it caught the afternoon light from the floor-to-ceiling windows just so. The heavy cardstock-cream with embossed g

ing, sharp and unwelcome, mixed with the genuine happiness for her friend. It was a tangible piece of a life she

te elevat

nager every time that sound cut through the apartment's silence. She smoothed her hands over her hips, checking for wrinkles in

tor doors

ore on set. His aviator sunglasses came off first, tossed onto the silver tray by the door with a careless clatter that made Alena's shou

, soft, reachin

s and laughed with her over bad takeout and called her baby in the early years. Now it landed

l warmth from the sun on his skin. She tilted her face up, offering. This was their cho

her eye. His touch was warm, practiced, and utterly devoid of intention. He pressed

f his palm, and watched him pour two fingers of bourbon into a crys

sked, following him

on set." He didn't

t co

ack moved under the thin cotton of his t-shirt, the same back she'd traced with her finger

g invitation. The gold caught the light again, winking at her. She moved toward him

ight, conversational. "Remember I told you? The guy fro

but Alena had spent five years learning to read the micro-expressions on this

bon. The ice clinked agains

s tightening around her water glass. "It's a Sat

le

arning sometime in year three, a sound that made

afternoon sun caught his eyes, turning them from dar

kend," he said. "The Marvel thing

en. Or Frid

on

hroat close, her breath catching somewhere behind her sternum. She se

orced herself to meet his eyes. "Five years, and I've never asked you to be my d

e'd moved when he used to pin her wrists above her head and make her beg. His f

as inside her and whispering things that made her believe she was special. "Don't bre

the cedarwood on his skin, the faint chemical undertone of the makeup he hadn't fully

l movement, constr

and released her. He turned back to the bar, reaching for his ph

ne buzzed i

he memory of his fingers. A notification from her banking ap

r received.

sewood Tru

styling & war

through the bedrock beneath Beverly Hills. She looked up at Kane, who wa

an

ng around. "I'm staying at the Malibu house t

ted marble. "You don't want to have dinner? I could

aid

. Inside, behind the rows of his watches and her jewelry boxes and the documents she wasn't allowe

l me what I did wrong.

at her in the mirror's reflection. His eyes traveled down, slow, clinical, t

the light chestnut waves she'd spent four hours in a salon ch

to face her. "Your natural co

hers, close enough that she could have reached out and grab

in his pocket or some signal she couldn't see. He stepped inside,

ait up,"

oors

brand. A mark of disobedience. She counted to sixty, listening to the silence, waiting for the sound of the elevator reaching the

ing the light. Still gleaming with Gary and Melissa's

hoto of herself in a burgundy bridesmaid dress, thumbs up, grinning. The text below

could type: We broke up. She could type: There is no we, there never was, I'm a fool and he's a ghost

the phone down, face-first

gerprints, still smelling of him. She drank it in one swallow, the alcohol bu

of lights spreading toward the ocean like a circuit board, like a trap

a text this time. A push n

her intuition had been screaming for three years while she cove

cked up

er screen, white text

BRUNETTE AT LAX-SOURCES SAY "SER

press. A woman with dark hair-deep brown, her mind supplied, her natural color-laughing up at him as he held the

eeks ago. The weekend he'd told her he

in the dimming light. She slid down the glass until she was sitting on the floor, her k

ndifferent and eternal, while someth