Page 84 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

My blood boils as their words sink in. Emily has worked tirelessly to earn her place, and hearing these idiots belittle her like that makes me see red.

I want to stride over there and angrily demand they stop, but my higher self realizes that would be foolish. Instead, I take a mental note of who they are so I can discuss their behavior with Cass.

I find Emily backstage a few minutes later, deep in conversation with the venue manager. She looks up as I approach, her expression softening when she sees me. Even amid the chaos, she's a sight to behold. The way she commands attention without trying and her quiet confidence as she directs the crewstill amaze me, especially how powerful and graceful she can be at once.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “Just wanted to check in.”

She narrows her eyes slightly, clearly sensing that something’s off. But before she can press me, the sound tech calls her name, and she turns to address the next issue on her list.

As she walks away, I can’t shake my lingering anger. Emily doesn’t deserve to have her reputation dragged through the mud, especially not by people who know how hard she works.

Someone is trying to stir up trouble, and we need to put a stop to it before it escalates further.

Whoever’s behind the malicious whispers and the bad-mouthing isn’t just going after Emily—they’re targeting the band as a whole. And they aren’t going to get away with it.

Back at the hotel, Emily kicks off her shoes and collapses onto the couch in our room, her head resting against the back cushions. Her guard, finally down, stirs something protective in my chest. Even exhausted, she's beautiful, and when I brush that strand of hair from her face, my fingers linger against her skin longer than necessary.

“Tired?” I ask, sitting down beside her.

“Exhausted,” she admits, her eyes closing.

I reach out, taking her hand in mine. “You did great tonight. As always.”

“Thanks, Sam.” She opens her eyes and looks at me, her expression grateful and relieved. “You did great, too.” She tilts her head tiredly to look up at me. “I kept waiting for some catastrophe to happen—I’m so glad nothing went wrong.”

At her weak smile, the day's chaos fades away, and I decide not to worry her about what I overheard earlier.

But the anger still simmers beneath the surface, and I know I can’t let it go.

“Hey, why don’t you rest here and maybe order room service? I want to stop in and see Cass for a minute,” I say, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

She looks up, a hint of curiosity in her tired eyes, but she doesn’t press. “Okay, but don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” I promise. I lean down to kiss her, meaning to keep it brief, but the soft warmth of her lips makes me want to forget about meeting Cass altogether. Only the urgency of protecting her pulls me away.

Cass is in the penthouse lounge. He looks up as I enter.

“You alone?”

“For now. Kendrick should be back in just a minute. Why? What’s up?” he says with a frown.

I sit across from him, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees. “I overheard something tonight. Two of the crew members were badmouthing Emily—and us.”

Cass’s expression instantly darkens. “What did they say?”

I recount the conversation word for word. As I speak, Cass’s jaw tightens, and his hands form fists on the armrests of his chair.

“That’s not just disrespectful,” Cass says, his voice low and sharp. “That sounds like someone trying to undermine her and us.”

“Exactly,” I say. “It felt deliberate. They weren’t just venting—it was targeted.”

Cass’s eyes narrow, his mind clearly working through possibilities. “Do you know who they are?”

“One of them is new. Jed somebody, but I can point him out. The other guy—he’s been with us a while, but I never pegged him for trouble.”

Cass exhales sharply, sitting back but far from relaxed. “You think someone is paying the new guy to stir up trouble?”

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