Page 33 of New Year's Faye

Faye’s hand flexed in mine.

I clenched my jaw, barely holding back the impulse to knock that smug look off Alex’s face. He had that infuriating air of superiority, the way he held himself, like he was always a few steps above the rest of us. But what set my teeth on edge the most was how close he was to Faye, cornering her with his words, like he knew exactly where to dig, exactly which scars to press his fingers into.

Not on my watch.

“And that is?” I prompted.

"The label's been doing some digging." Alex pulled out his phone, his smile sharp. "Interesting what you find when you look hard enough. Like old yearbook photos from Capricorn Cove High." He looked up, eyes glinting. "You two were quite close back then, weren't you?"

Faye stiffened beside me. "That was years ago."

"Was it?" Alex scrolled through his phone. "Because according to these photos, you were quite... friendly. Theatre club, band, debate team, and this is just what we found today." He looked between us. "Yet somehow that connection never made it into any of your employment paperwork when you signed the label’s contract."

My fingers twitched, my pulse thundering in my ears. He was baiting her, trying to unnerve her, using anything he could to make her doubt herself, to paint her as if she was just some opportunist using me to climb the ladder. It was the same tactic he’d used years ago, the same methodical, calculated way he’d dismantled her career one whisper at a time. And I knew, just by looking at him, he wouldn’t stop until he saw her break.

Not this time.

"It wasn't relevant," Faye said, her voice firm and calm but for the slight tremor of tension. “No one ever asked.”

"Wasn't it?” Alex's mouth curved into a smug smile, his eyes flicking to me, then back to her, a predator circling its prey. “From where I'm standing, it looks an awful lot like you leveraged a personal connection for professional gain.” His smile turned cruel. “Just like you did at Preston & Myers."

The rage that had been simmering beneath my skin boiled over. My free hand clenched into a fist at my side, every muscle in my body tensing as his words hit like a slap. Faye’s face had gone pale, her hand gripping mine with a desperation I hadn’t felt from her before, and seeing her like that—vulnerable, trying to keep it together as he tore into her—was the last straw.

"That's not—" she started, but Alex cut her off.

"I’m stating facts. The label has concerns about your potential conflicts of interest and about the integrity of certain employment decisions."

“But—”

Alex cut her off, stepping closer, feeding off her uncertainty, her pain. And something in me snapped.

“Faye, I think you need to resi?—”

My fist connected with the wall beside his head before I even realized I'd moved. "Choose your next words very carefully."

Alex flinched, his smile faltering.

"Sam." Faye's hand on my arm was gentle but firm. "Sam, let him go. He's not worth it."

I released him slowly, stepping back to Faye's side. Alex straightened his suit, that smug smile still in place.

"The label wants a full investigation into any potential impropriety. Starting with your initial hiring." He adjusted his cuffs. "Unless, of course, Faye prefers to resign. Save everyone the embarrassment."

I felt my pulse hammering in my ears. He had no idea what he was talking about—no idea what Faye had been through, what she’d sacrificed, what she’d done to rebuild her life after he’d torn it apart. And to stand here, to accuse her of using me, of somehow scheming her way into this job, after all the years she’d spent busting her ass for us? It was too much.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a damn thing about us,” I said, my voice low and deadly, barely keeping my temper in check. “She’s been with this band since day one. She’s done more for us than you or anyone else at that label ever has.”

Alex smirked, clearly unbothered by my anger. In fact, he looked downright pleased, like he’d been waiting for me to lose control. “And isn’t that convenient? All thanks to that old ‘friendship’ from high school. What a fairy-tale story for the fans,” he sneered.

The room felt like it was spinning, my vision tunnelling as his words sank in. Every insult he hurled felt like a punch, aimed directly at Faye, at the very core of who she was, and I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t stand the thought of him tearing her down, ofhim dredging up her past, twisting our history into something ugly and cheap.

"That won't be necessary."

We all turned to find Justice standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

"I hired Faye," he continued, moving to stand beside us. "After she saved our asses at that charity event where our previous manager got wasted and spouted some racist shit."

I remembered that night. Faye had stepped in, handled the press, smoothed over ruffled feathers, and somehow turned the whole thing into positive publicity. It had occurred just as the label had come courting—and her quick actions had saved us from being relegated into the junk pile of obscurity.

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