Page 92 of Cruel Fate

I look over her shoulder. Hector’s leaning against the building, suave and menacing in a black suit and mirrored sunglasses. I can’t see his eyes, but I know he’s watching us. The slither of unease down my back is enough proof.

Clutching her shoulders, I say, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Stella. The sooner you realize that, the better things will be—for everyone. Including Zane. Be smart. He’s going to need you if things go sideways. Don’t fight in a war you can’t win, you’ll only get yourself killed. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Through my trench coat, her fingers dig into my arm, and it hurts.

“Yes.” I don’t agree with her, but I say what she wants to hear. She doesn’t know me. As long as Ash is abusing her, I’ll never leave this alone. I don’t care how powerful the Blacks are. I have never let the bad people win.

“Good. Let’s change for the press conference. They’re going to pay as much attention to you as they will be to Zane. Maybe even more, so you need to look your best and be prepared.”

We dress, and Zarah coaches me on what to say, or rather, whatnotto say, if a reporter corners me at the press conference or questions me at the party. I have only three or four acceptable phrases I can repeat. Yes, Zane and I are a couple. No, we have no plans to marry at this time. Yes, I am his executive assistant. No, I will not be taking a leadership role at Maddox Industries.

“It doesn’t matter what you and Zane decide behind closed doors.” She picks out a black lace pencil skirt and a demure white blouse for me to wear and loans me a strand of black pearls. “What we tell the papers and what we do in private are two different things, okay? If you read something Zane said and it’s not in line with what you think, talk to him about it before freaking out. If a reporter asks you something and you don’t know the answer, or you don’t want to answer, a simple, ‘I would rather not comment on that right now’ is polite and gets the job done.”

I nod. I don’t want to deal with the press and paparazzi at all. I know I’ll have to at some point, even if it’s about the fundraising for the nonprofit I’m creating with Mina.

Zarah continues the lesson. “Yes, you’re looking to move into charity work to complement your position as Zane’s assistant. No, you don’t feel your tough childhood will hinder you in any way. On the contrary, you think it will give you the perfect perspective to be of service.” She pauses. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot.”

“I know, but you’re gorgeous and no one knows much about you. They’re going to be curious and you need to be brave enough to set boundaries or they’ll stomp all over you.”

“I understand.”

We stand outside on the steps of Maddox Industries, the answers to made up questions ringing in my ears. A podium equipped with a single microphone sits on the top step waiting for Zane to take command. News crews are milling about, some doing pre-press conference coverage, rehashing the history of Maddox Industries, Zane’s parents’ plane crash, and Zarah and Ash’s relationship.

Zane hasn’t come down yet, and I wish I could have given him a kiss and a pep talk before the press conference, but there wasn’t time. While Zarah and I were changing, Zane had alsobeen dressing, and a handler who works at a public relations firm was coaching him as Zarah had been coaching me.

I suck in a deep breath. A cameraman trains his camera on me, and I try not to stiffen. I’ll be in the public eye now...as Zane’s girlfriend. A role he’s only too eager for me to play. At least he isn’t hiding me. Ashamed of me. That would be worse than doing what he’s asking me to do—pretend to fit in.

Suddenly, the reporters stare past us to the front of the building, and Zarah looks over her shoulder. Zane stepping through the revolving glass doors jerks everyone’s attention away from us. He walks confidently across the stone and stands behind the podium wearing a black suit and a black and silver striped tie. We match, and I don’t know if Zarah planned it. There’s no indication on her face she did. He hasn’t shaved, and his scruff makes him look older. More competent. I wonder if that’s calculated. If it is, it worked. In spades.

Zane Maddox can do more than step into his father’s shoes. He can rule the world.

Everyone is quiet as he surveys the crowd. Even the wind dies down, and you could hear a pin drop, everything is so still.

He rests his hands on the sides of the podium and begins to speak. “Thank you for being here. I took more time than was allotted me to grieve, and this is grossly overdue. As all of you know, my parents, Kagan and Lark Maddox, were killed in a plane crash on April second of this year. Investigation is ongoing, but after so many months, finding the cause of this horrific accident doesn’t look promising.”

He stops and looks over the crowd.

Zarah and I stand along the outskirts of the group of reporters, and his gaze lands on me. His features soften. The eagle eyes of the press and paparazzi don’t miss his expression. Zarah squeezes my hand, her massive engagement ring digging into my skin.

“Having said that, it’s time to assume responsibility of what my father worked all his life to build. Younger than I am now, he founded Maddox Industries and put his blood, sweat, and tears into the company. I must now carry on. Carry on the mission. Carry on the goals and dreams my father had for this company. Carry on the family name.”

Zane’s stare pins me to the step, and Zarah gasps. “Did he ask you to marry him?”

I rub the ring he slid onto my finger. “No. Not exactly. He said he wanted to...someday.”

“God. Look at him. He loves you so much. The press is eating it up.”

“I may not feel ready,” Zane continues, gazing out into the sea of reporters who are recording his every move and waiting impatiently to bombard him with questions. “But no one does anything waiting until they’re ready. How many chances, how many opportunities, are missed if we’re not willing to gamble? Roll the dice? If we cannot step outside our comfort zones? I need to step outside mine and make my parents proud.” He pauses and finishes, saying, “Thank you.”

The reporters erupt in a deluge of questions, and Zane’s handler steps out of the shadows to rein them in. They shout questions one by one. Asking him to disclose details of the plane crash and the investigation, asking him about his plans for the future of Maddox Industries. Asking him about me.

“Let’s head up and change,” Zarah says. “No one will miss us now.”

She doesn’t want the reporters to film us leaving, and we stay outside of the cameras’ range. Zane’s still answering questions, and one question drifts to me.

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