Page 60 of All That Glitters

Think.

“I’m not the one who sold my soul,” I say. “You figure out your own shit.”

“You’re just as involved as I am. The two of us are tied together, and your name is on Empire’s contract too. Or have you forgotten that little fact?”

“She’s my client.”

Parker smirks, as though I’ve given something very important away. “She means more to you than anything else in this world. How far are you willing to go to protect her? I wonder if we’ll get the chance to find out. Or maybe you want to keep her in the dark about who you really are.”

“I’ll go as far as I have to in order to protect her. She’s an innocent.”

“Not if she’s with you,” he replies sharply. “You’ve damned her with your presence alone. And now we’re sharing her, aren’t we? Both of us want something from the girl.”

“I don’t give a shit how you financed your film, Parker. You’ve got an issue with the source? It’s on you. My name is on her contract and nothing more.” But the anger is starting to shift and change directions. It isn’t focused solely on the man in front of me anymore.

I got Empire involved with the deal, and I should have known, given Parker’s proclivities, how he’d come into such a large budget for the production. I hadn’t thought about it, too distracted by her to consider anything deeper than surface level.

I’ve known Parker. I’ve worked with him before. I thought I’d be able to handle him.

“You’ve always been a sneaky son of a bitch,” he says with a snarl. “You get in too deep and then you weasel your way out and expect there not to be consequences.” Parker gets up in my face. “I’m telling you something. This time, you’re just as deep as I am, whether you wanted to be here or not.”

“I never made the deal with your boss,” I argue. In fact, I’ve always done my best to keep two steps removed from Stanic Maxim, the mafia boss turned Hollywood mogul. Until now.

“You made the deal for her.” Parker sounds smug. “When you agreed to be in my picture.”

“Which means what?” My gut spirals lower yet, and my heart thuds against my ribs, the ache slowly crawling up the back of my neck and into my skull. “What are you trying to say? And you better be willing to put your dirty money where your mouth is if you plan to threaten me.”

“You wonder why I brought the guys? It’s because you always get so heated. You have a hard time controlling your temper, Marcus. I needed to be prepared for whatever you’d do once you found out—”

“Get to the point.” The argument is about to get out of hand if we don’t wrap this up, and I feel myself losing control.

“Bottom line? You need to make amends to the Family.” Parker shrugs, steps closer, bears down on me. “Otherwise, you and Empire both might meet with a little accident, the same way her parents did.”

Just like that, something inside me snaps and goes cold, the logical part of my brain trying to stay ahead of Parker and trap him in my web shutting off entirely. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Open your eyes. You know exactly what I’m saying. There are ways to get people to cooperate when they’re being stubborn. You’ve been there just the same as I have.” The four men step closer to Parker on some invisible signal. “And if things don’t go the way the Family needs them to, then there are consequences. You have to be willing to pay if you want to play. You played for a lot of years before you found your way out. But you’re never really out, as you’re seeing now.”

My spine straightens. “You’re out of your mind.”

The plane crash.

He can’t possibly be talking about—

“Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with it. Parker…” I trail off, shaking my head as my stomach sours and curdles. “Did you have anything to do with her parents’ death?”

“Me? No—” He breaks off and laughs. “Not me, Marcus. It’s all on you. Because you were supposed to be on that plane, too. That crash was meant for you.”

TWENTY-THREE

Islap my hands over my mouth to keep from crying out. One wrong move, one overly loud sound, and they’ll know I'm here, that I’ve heard every single word. I hadn’t wanted Marcus to see me pull up to the house, not when I’ve been crying, and thought I’d have a better chance of slipping inside if I parked at the end of the driveway and walked.

Too distracted by grief, too distracted by love to want to talk to him or see his face and have to make up excuses for the tear stains. I’ll have to tell him how I feel eventually. I thought of all the ways to do it on the walk up the short drive, of all the ways Marcus might shut me down.

Sneaky.

I’m not the only sneaky one.

Tears continue to leak down my face, and no matter how hard I bite down on my lip, the pain doesn’t stop them. Not only from earlier, but from the conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear. Parker and his goons are here, at my house, and staring them down is the lone knight guarding the gate to the kingdom.

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