Page 16 of Twisted Promise

Alessio wasn’t affected by it, mainly because he had no interest in sensualized gossip. It looked like Anya either wasn’t affected or didn’t know about the raging internet storm yet.

He’d wager a guess and say she knew since her job was mostly related to Meryl’s online presence.

“I used to wear those, but I switched to natural wool coats. They’re more sustainable and super warm!”

This was the third time he heard that woman, Clara, raise her voice. It was agony—his left ear filled with meaningless chatter, while his right ear burned with the sting of her snide remarks about a pointless piece of clothing.

Nobody cared.

“It was on sale,” Anya retorted while she exchanged a glance with the bald man beside Clara.

He covertly shrugged and went back to his gaming console. He was the third partner in the trio, and his name was inconsequential to Alessio.

“Still,” Clara chided as she sighed heavily with her hand under her chin. “It’s bad for your skin, too.”

Anya smoothed the tablecloth under the candleholder, her movements calm and deliberate, like she mastered the art of nonchalance. Meryl didn’t bother to hide her annoyance, rolling her eyes dramatically but keeping her mouth shut. Alessio thought she’d have lost it by now.

“I use lotion,” Anya answered, composed.

Clearly, she didn’t care about Clara’s opinion on what she wore, the space heater in her home, or the backhanded compliment about her plastic bottle’s design.

Then, everyone’s phone buzzed at the same time with a text message.

The director wanted a confession of a dark secret at this exact moment, and of course, this was an additional commission they’d get at the end.

Any last-minute requests after the contract had been signed incurred an additional charge, double the cost of a daily filming session. It was written in the contract when he signed.

There hadn’t been much drama the last few days. Everyone kept to themselves, which probably wasn’t what the director had hoped for. Now, he was ready to stir up some drama for backlash and attention.

“I lied about burying our family pet. I sold her to the taxidermist.” The console in the man’s hand lifted higher as if he wanted the system to malfunction and transport him into the game.

Clara snorted in shock and spouted nonsense in her moment of rage, but the man didn’t spare her a glance and told her to leave a message.

“Leave a message,” Clara mocked through her teeth.

She popped open the pen cap and scribbled chicken scratch on the back of his bald head, an insult, no doubt. The blue ink stood out against the gleaming surface with a tornado-shaped line underneath a word for emphasis.

Meryl admitted that, as a joke, she’d occasionally slipped one of her baby teeth under her brother’s pillow. Now, he still got weirded out by the thought of extra teeth hiding in his gums.

Anya, Clara, and Cosmo skipped it.

Everyone’s eyes fell on Alessio. He wasn’t going to indulge in the absurd assignment, but the nosiness in Anya’s eyes burned his refusal in his throat.

“Stalking.”

Cosmo’s arm slipped off the counter, Meryl spat out her latte, Clara’s stupefied retching followed by her scuffing chair, and the bald man’s hands shook on the console. They waited with bated breath for him to elaborate, but he simply cocked his head to look at Anya.

She wrinkled her brows, lost in thought, trying to figure out why he’d practically pointed the answer at her.

“Excuse me?” Clara squawked, inexplicably outraged on behalf of herself.

“You confessed to a crime on live TV,” Cosmo stated, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.

Meryl grimaced and ruffled her hair in what seemed to be frustration and disbelief. Anya’s head turned from each person’s reaction and was as lost as the man engrossed in his game.

“Just to clarify, for the fans, I mean,” Cosmo said as he cleared his throat melodramatically. “Are you doing the stalking or being stalked?”

Alessio didn’t give them the satisfaction of an answer and left the room.

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