Page 101 of Fake Game

“Okay, and smile,” the photographer calls out.

My hand automatically shoots up in a peace sign, and the perpetual smile that’s been on my face doesn’t falter.

Gods, I hope my makeup still looks good after four hours of this.

The fan I’d been pleasantly chatting with snakes a hand around my waist and I jolt. Within seconds, they’ve pulled me into their body and their fingers are gripping tightly right below the edge of my corset. Their other hand has gripped my arm, and it’s digging into the soft flesh at my elbow to keep me from moving.

My body turns to stone.

“Sir, please take your hands off the lady.” The same bodyguard has stepped forward again.

“I just want a picture.”

“There’s no touching for the photos.” He squares up. “If you do not remove your hands, I am going to have to remove you from the area, without any photo.”

The fan’s grip tightens in response.

Shit.

Shit shit shitttttttt.

“You’re kinda hurting me.” My voice comes out all high-pitched as I try to keep my smile straight.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I feel nauseous at his words. “I just want a picture.”

The bodyguard grips the fan’s shoulder with one hand and has his hand on his holster with the other. “I will forcibly remove you if you do not let go in the next five seconds.”

“What the hell, man.” The fan begins to panic and tries to shrug him off, which causes his grip on me to somehow tighten even further. His nails dig through the soft ruffles of my skirt.

I can’t help the wince that escapes.

“Is there a problem here?”

The area falls silent at the commanding words, and I look up into the faces of three men—well, “faces” is a stretch.

The three masked men push their way into my meet and greet area.

Aleksander’s red mask is just as menacing as always, and he uses that to its full effect as he squares up with the fan, tilting his head to the side. Parker and Jackson are right at his back—Parker looks almost lax with his posture, but Jackson’s arms are crossed over his chest, highlighting his muscles in a way that poses a threat to anyone nearby.

The effect of these men is immediate.

The fan lets me go and basically pushes me aside. The bodyguard is quick to restrain him now that I’m no longer in the way and at risk of getting hurt further.

But I begin to trip over my heels at the sudden jostle, and my frozen mind takes too long to think of a way to stop my fall other than with my face.

A hand shoots out to stop my fumble. The only issue is they grab me right where the fan was gripping me, and this time I can’t school my face as it scrunches at the pang.

Jackson’s hand quickly releases from my arm, and instead he curls me into him, cradling my shoulders. I look up into his deep green mask and my heartbeat starts to slow. Jackson holds my wrist delicately, stretching out my arm to study it.

“Fuck, you’re red,” he growls. “I’m going to punch that—”

“Let’s not make a scene.” Parker’s blue mask enters my field of vision as he places a few light taps to Jackson’s pec. “Mygirlfriend will remove our dicks if we do anything in such a public setting, and I personally don’t want to lose the big guy.”

“He’s being escorted out of the venue.” Aleks pushes his way to us, and I spot the bodyguard and some of the expo’s security guards dragging the guy off the show floor through the gap he creates. “You good, Deer?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, let’s head back to the suite. Lee’s team is going to bring her to meet up with us when she’s done—but she’s safe, no incidents on her end.”

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