Page 70 of Mastered By Lust

On and on. The words blur before my eyes until I land on Danica’s name. Her text came in a minute ago. Her message is three letters:WTF, followed by a link. I click on it blindly and get a pop-up with a new link.

Danica Montrose invited you to watch Nicola Johnson’s VideYou.

I click again, my brain whirling. Nicola Johnson?

The link takes me to a VideYou clip. The woman talking to the camera looks familiar, but it takes me a moment to place her. Because inAcademy of Ghosts, she had blond hair. She played Trixie, the vampire who likes to stir shit up.

That’s right—Nicola Johnson.

She’s wearing a sweatshirt. I recognize the brand. The sweatshirt looks casual but it easily costs two hundred dollars or more. Her hair is light brown and falls over her shoulders in loose waves. Her hazel eyes are heavily made-up, but it’s evident she has been crying.

Nicola is talking, but the video is on mute. I restart the video and turn up the volume.

“After Javi’s funeral, Gage and I reconnected. Yes, even though several friends told me not to forgive him. Of course I forgave him. We have a special, enduring connection. One that I thought nothing would break. But it turns out, this whole time, there’s been someone else. What a cliche, right? Ha. The other woman.”

She pauses and dabs a tissue beneath her eyes.

I should turn this off. I should turn it off immediately and talk to Gage.

But I’m transfixed. Transfixed by her beauty, by her compelling tears, by the tale she’s weaving. I let the video play.

She holds up a picture of me, taken from my tutorial services site. In the image, I’m smiling, friendly, looking like the girl next door you’d hire to babysit and tutor your kid. I picked that photo on purpose. It made me look extra trustworthy.

“I know.” Nicola looks at the photo, then back into the camera. “I don’t get it, either. She’s a nobody. Just some…some girl. Younger, I guess. But you know what? The side-piece’s youth is fleeting. Her time with Gage is fleeting. He and I—we’re forever. And I’ll forgive him again, just like I did last time.”

She sniffs, and her breath catches on a sob.

I stare in disbelief. Gage is with her? Or he has been? I can’t believe that—in fact, I refuse to believe it. I know him, and this isn’t something he would do.

“I hope she enjoys him while she has him, because he always comes home to me.” She dabs her eyes again. “If I’m quiet for a few weeks, this is why. But I’ll be back soon, stronger than ever, with my man at my side.”

Shock, dread, disbelief, betrayal. They ricochet through my heart and mind, radioactive, poisoning everything they touch.

Nicola’s video starts again. “After Javi’s funeral, Gage and I reconnected. Yes, even though?—”

Gage knocks on the bathroom door. “Leah? Are you talking to someone?”

I mute my phone.

“Leah?”

“Just a second.” My voice sounds strange. Tight and full.

He must hear the emotion I’m trying to hide. “There are some accusations and rumors flying around. We need to talk.”

Talk about what, though? Nicola is showing a picture ofmeto her—I check the number—sixteen million followers. She’s calling me the “other woman.” The “side-piece.” The comments beneath her video are scathing.

What a whore.

Does she think she can compete? Gross. You have class. She’s just…trash.

They both suck. You can do better, Nic.

She’s ugly. I bet he has to cover her face when he fucks her.

She’s probably carrying every STD plus some they haven’t even invented yet.

Comment upon comment, slut-shaming me. Calling me ugly inside and out. Calling me a whore. Every single one of them enters my head in my stepfather’s voice.

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