Page 49 of Riot

Dion is right. I should start at the top, not the bottom. My father’s old manager would know everything, and if we lean on him enough, he’ll crack. After my father died, he lost his golden ticket. Rumor is, he’s running new and smaller bands now, trying to find that golden child to take him to the top again. I remember him as a sleazeball who craves money more than anything. It will make him an easy target, but even so, Kage wants to do some research first so we have things to use against him, since he has connections. He also probably already signed for the docuseries.

“You need to eat,” Kage orders as he tugs me after him into a restaurant. We’ve managed to avoid detection all day, but in a place like this, there are bound to be cameras, so I try to pull my hand from his, but he ignores me. “Fallon,” he warns, stopping outside of the upscale bistro. “I said I’ll help you, and I will, but I also need to take care of you. You can’t go up against them weak, which means eating, sleeping, and taking care of yourself. Now, are you going to walk into this restaurant and eat, or am I going to have to carry you, tie you to the chair, and force-feed you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I snap.

Smirking, he steps closer as I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “You really believe I won’t?”

As I stare into his dead eyes, I know he would. I know he would do that and so much worse to look after me. I still don’t get his obsession with me, his need to love and be around me, but I have to admit it’s addictive.

I’ve never depended on someone before, and there’s a reason for it. I don’t want to be vulnerable and let them in to hurt me. I didn’t have the option to be gentle, soft, and loving. I had to split my knuckles to protect myself, just so they would never come back to hurt me again. If I want something, I buy it. If something is wrong, I fix it. I don’t need a man to help me, but Kage? He makes me want to be weak just so he can save me.

“Good girl,” he praises, making those words seem filthy as his thumb traces my lips. “If you eat a full meal while I watch, then I’ll eat you after.”

“Hmm, I am sweet enough to be dessert, but why would I settle for a starter when I could find someone willing to give me the full course when you’re not?” I tease, my eyes dropping to his body.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, making me shiver, “I’m a whole fucking feast, and if you try to go for someone else, we both know what will happen. I’ve made it clear you’re mine, so accept it and you can have me. Say it. Say you’re mine.”

I swallow as he backs me into the wall, uncaring about anyone watching, and honestly, I don’t care either. I forget everything but his eyes and mocking lips.

“Say it, Fallon.” He tilts his head as if to kiss me. “Say you’re mine and I’ll fuck you right here. I’ll spend all day and night making you come on my dick until you never feel empty again.”

I glance at his lips, wanting what he said. I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want him. Usually, I have them as soon as I want them, and he knows it. He’s teasing me and making me crave him. “You wish,” I retort. “I belong to no one, but you, Kage?” I slip my hand down his chest to grab his hard cock, and he hisses. “We both know you’re mine, following me around like a needy little puppy begging for a taste.”

“A puppy willing to risk everything for you.” He pushes into my hand. “I’ve made it very obvious. I’m yours, Fallon, but I’m glad to see you’re finally accepting that. It means you’re that much closer to giving in to me.”

“You’re fucking delusional,” I mutter, but I can’t help but smile.

“There it is, that smile I hang onto. Do you know how fucking crazy it drives me when you smile? Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so goddamn sexy when you’re cold and cruel, but when you smile at me, you make me want to drag you down the aisle before you’re ready.”

“Aisle?” I scoff. “You wish.”

“I will marry you one day, Fallon. I’ll have my ring on your finger and take your name as mine,” he promises darkly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get it. You dream of revenge, while I dream of you.”

“I . . .” My words die as a voice interrupts us—a familiar voice.

“Fallon?”

We break apart, and I feel my expression go cold as I stiffen, staring at the familiar redhead. She’s older, but she looks exactly the same. She’s wearing designer shades that push back her shoulder-length, dyed red hair, and she has the same mocking green eyes and perfect complexion. She’s dressed in the latest designer dress and heels with a bag hanging from her shoulder. I wonder how she can afford it. She was a model when she met Yuri, my father’s bandmate, but she has long been forgotten.

“It is you.” Her smile is cruel as she heads my way. She’s by herself, which is strange because from what I remember, she usually has a publicist and cameras in tow, clinging to any form of fame she can. For a moment, fear and shock freeze me in place before I remember who I am. I’m not the same teenager being threatened by her because her fiancé touched me without consent. She blamed me then and probably still does now. He could do no wrong, and she turned a blind eye to what happened at those parties to secure her bag, and it worked. She heads our way, stopping before us.

“You look . . .” She runs her eyes over me. “Older.”

Nice barb.

“So do you,” I respond with a wicked smirk. “I guess there is only so much plastic surgery can do, right?” I widen my eyes innocently as she glares. I never fought back. I was always too scared to speak and worried what she would do. She has a glint in her eyes—she always did—a spark of someone willing to do anything to get what she wants.

“Yes, well, you’ll have to give me the number of your doctor,” she responds, glancing at Kage. “Who is this? Your latest fling?”

“I don’t have a doctor,” I respond with glee. “It’s all natural. I guess I have my mother to thank for that.” I don’t introduce Kage. I won’t let her get her claws into him. It wouldn’t surprise me if she tried. I’m surprised she hasn’t divorced Yuri yet and tried to find someone younger and richer. It’s bound to happen though.

“Hmm . . .” She runs her eyes over me. “We were actually going to call you. We heard you tried to stop production on the docuseries.” Her frown is filled with fake, syrupy sweet worry. “I know it’s hard for you, missing your father, but the world deserves to remember his legacy, don’t you think?”

“You mean you deserve the money you’d earn from lying on camera?” I respond, refusing to play the game she wants.

“Fallon, you seem angry.”

“I’m so glad you noticed. I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you, since you always were a bit slow.”

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