Page 42 of Perfectly Wrong

“Yeah, and you’ve messed with your life. You’re under investigation, Elena. Can you believe that? One of our best leaders, now with a noose around her neck because of a nineteen-year-old kid!”

This was too much. I wasn’t going down alone, and I wasn’t going to lose everything because of him. It didn’t matter how much I cared about Sam, he didn’t get to walk away from this. I sprang up from the chair and snatched the paper off Jeremy’s desk.

“Where are you going?” he yelled as I stormed out of the office.

I barely had time to grab my purse. It was freezing outside, but I was burning with anger, frustration, and hurt. Tears streamed down my face before I even realized I was crying. Everything he had touched seemed to burn, but not in the way I used to crave. Now, I wanted to tear my skin off, erase every trace of Sam Martin’s scent, his touch, his kisses.

I called a taxi and gave the driver his address. Less than twenty minutes later, I was stomping through the lobby of his building, ignoring the receptionists who knew me all too well.

The elevator dinged on the eleventh floor, and I marched straight to his door. I didn’t knock—I pounded. Screw the polite neighbours, or the fact that we, as Canadians, were supposed to be quiet and courteous. I wanted to break down that door, tear apart the entire building. After a few more punches, he finally opened it, looking terrified.

“Elena?” His face was a mix of shock and confusion. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He reached for me, but I stepped back. I couldn’t stand his touch right now. Just looking into his eyes was hard enough.

“What did you do, Sam?” I whispered.

I was trembling in the hallway, clutching that crumpled piece of paper in my hand. Martin looked at me, bewildered, not knowing what to do. He stepped aside, gesturing for me to come in. I only made it as far as the kitchen island.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

I threw the paper onto the counter and watched as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“This, Martin,” I snapped. “This is what I’m talking about.”

He picked it up and started reading, glancing at me every few seconds. I was falling apart—physically, emotionally, completely.

“How could you do this to me?” I sobbed, tears pouring down my face again. “How could you ruin my life like this?”

“Elena…”

“You did everything I begged you not to do. You made me the centre of attention, you exposed me to everyone!”

“There’s no way they know the songs are about us!” He tried to reach for me, to calm me down, but I shoved his hands away. The anger I felt for him was suffocating, and I could barely breathe between words.

“They all know, Martin,” I shouted. “Everyone! Jeremy found out, then Marco, even Rento knows. How could you be so stupid? How could you think you could talk about seeing me at a café and no one would connect the dots when they heard it in a song?”

I was screaming, louder than I thought I could. Let the neighbours hear me.

“Deny it; they have no proof.” His voice was strained, and I could see he was losing his composure. “Elena, we can fix this. I’m sorry, I just thought…”

“Thought what?” I spat, the disgust clear on my face. “That I wanted some crappy songs about me out there?”

He took a step back. I hadn’t meant to say that, but my adrenaline was spiking. I could feel electricity buzzing through my veins, my throat burning, and all I wanted to do was scream more.

“How are you going to deny it when Marco saw you in Japan, Sam? He saw you there, you two talked. And what did you do? You wrote a goddamn song about it!” I stepped closer, jabbing my finger at him. “It’s over. My life is over, and it’s your fault!”

I turned away, hiding my face in my hands as I cried. I was overwhelmed by a mix of anger and betrayal. I had trusted him, believed he’d protect me.

“I’ll talk to Jeremy,” he said desperately. “It’ll be okay.”

“One of Icon Records’ directors found out, kid.” I turned to face him, my eyes blazing. “They cornered my boss. I’m screwed. Can you even comprehend that? Your selfishness, your childish behaviour, and your complete lack of respect for me have put a noose around my neck. I’m getting fired, Martin.”

“No,” he gasped, stepping towards me, but I backed away again. “They have no proof, Lena. I’ll just say they’re just dumb songs, okay? Please, listen to me.”

“They have witnesses!” I shouted back. “That asshole Rento told them there was a man in my room, and Marco confirmed you were there. They can even track our recent flights, Sam! Stop pretending you’re still a teenager and grow the hell up! There are consequences to face, and I have the most to lose.” We locked eyes, pain clear in both of us. “I signed a huge contract today, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And you destroyed it all!”

“Elena, please, stop.”

“I hope you’re happy. You got what you wanted—you ruined me, Martin. And right now, I can’t even tell you how much I hate you!”

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