Page 58 of Riot

Kage: I broke into your house. You aren’t there. When are you coming home?

Kage: I tracked your phone. You’re working. Fine. Come home after, and let’s have a meal together.

Kage: You like noodles, right?

Kage: Ice misses you.

I scroll through the pictures of him and Ice pouting before typing out a message.

Fallon: Stop breaking into my house, stalker.

I snap a pic of me pointing at the TV.

Fallon: Does this have anything to do with you?

My phone vibrates with a call, and I accept with a smile. “It was you.”

“You know it.” He chuckles. “We have it, sweetheart.”

“Have what?” I ask happily.

“We have what we need,” he answers.

I lose my smile, understanding what he means. Swallowing hard, I look at the TV once more. “I’ll be back soon.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

While my girl was busy working, I hunted down the man who used to manage Electric Giants and found any source of blackmail I could against him. I know he won’t give in easily, hence the need for information. I want to make this as easy for Fallon as I can. Sitting in my car outside of the studio, I check the tracker on Fallon’s phone to see where she is—not to rush her, but to make sure I’m ready for when she comes down. The paparazzi are also waiting, the blinding flashes almost burning my eyes as they take pictures of me.

Let them.

When she gets closer, I get out of the car and meet her at the door, my arm out to stop the surging crowd. Ignoring their shouts and questions, I push them away as she moves closer to my side, sparing me a worried look. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We can outrun them, come on.” Keeping one arm around her, the other outstretched, I push the paparazzi away as I escort her to my car and shut the door, then I hurry around to the driver’s side.

I rev the engine and creep forward, warning them that I will hit them to get out. They get the message and finally move from the road so I can pull away. I see some getting into their cars, but before they can chase us down, I slam my foot to the pedal and peel away, weaving through traffic to escape them.

When we finally do, I glance over to see my girl watching me, open-mouthed. “That could have been bad. They get like that sometimes, probably because they saw you as well.”

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” I murmur as I reach over and thread our fingers together, laying our hands on my thigh as I look back at the road. “Are you ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The once bustling office is now run-down and out of date, without any security and only a few cleaners working at this time of night. It’s easy enough to sneak into the office building and ride the elevator up to the correct level. Once there, we simply open the double doors and head right into his office.

His head jerks up from where it was pressed against the desk—probably sleeping if the confusion and wrinkles in his cheek are anything to go by.

“Who let you in here?” He starts as he sits up, straightening his tie and puffing out his face in an attempt to intimidate us. Blinking, he grabs some glasses and slides them into place. He jerks back, his face pale. “Fallon,” he whispers.

“Glad to see you remember me,” she remarks as she heads over to the ragged black sofa and sits delicately on the edge, a glass coffee table before her reflecting her beauty as her eyes run over the office. “I remember this being . . . well, more. I guess times are hard.” She looks back at him. “Which is why you’re doing the docuseries, right?”

“Well, um, Fallon, you see?—”

She holds up her hand, and he stops stuttering. “I’m tired, and honestly, being here makes me feel a little sick, so I’ll get right to the point.” She leans forward, her eyes pinning him into his chair as he gulps. “You are going to pull from the docuseries. You will say you feel it’s in bad taste and you want nothing to do with it. After that, you are going to do everything I say. You are going to admit to everything when I tell you to. You will corroborate my stories and others’ of the abuse, rampant drug use, and rape within that band. You will be apologetic, you will be sincere, and you will bring the evidence I know you kept.” When he goes to deny it, she raises an eyebrow. “You are sleazy, but you aren’t a fool. You knew it would come back to bite you on the ass one day, so you kept evidence so they could never turn on you. I want it all.” She stands. “I’m going to destroy them, and you are going to help me.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” he snaps as he surges to his feet. “That would be implicating myself and ruining my career.”

She holds out her hand, and I pass over the folder she looked through before we came up here. Slapping it on his desk, she leans into him. “Because I’m smarter, I’m stronger, and I’m a hell of a lot more powerful. I found this all within a day, so imagine what I could do with two, a week, a month, or a year. You don’t want me as your enemy. You can choose to go down with grace or I’ll spill all of this and the truth anyway. Either way, you are ruined. You choose how.” She steps back, letting him open the folder that details every bank transfer and money laundering he has done in the last two years. It seems he’s been a busy boy, profiting from his stars without them knowing, not to mention the shell companies I found, and that was without digging too deeply.

He stares at the paper for a moment before his eyes meet Fallon’s. “Why are you doing this, Fallon? Why now?”

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