Page 14 of Ignacio

“Lose your mind. Fall apart.”

“Somebody’s a little full of herself.” Delta tossed a tufted pillow from the bed at her sister.

Laughing, Vivian tossed it back. “I can’t believe you would bully a disabled person.”

Delta gasped in mock outrage. “Oh, please! You’re always telling me what to do and when to do it. You’re the biggest bully I know.”

Vivian smirked. “And don’t you forget it. Just because I’m in a wheelchair doesn’t mean I can’t take you down.”

Delta crossed her arms. “I’d like to see you try.”

Vivian gave her a wicked grin. “I will run over your toes without a second thought.”

Delta let out a laugh and held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. You win. Truce. Sheesh.”

Vivian gave a regal nod. “That’s what I thought.” She headed toward the door and paused. “I’m going to pack for our flight to Atlanta tomorrow, but if you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Sometimes Delta believed Vivian genuinely forgot she was the younger sibling and Delta should be taking care ofher. Not that she minded. The music industry was a cutthroat business, and it was nice to know someone was in her corner—someone with no ulterior motives.

“You’re the only sane person in this family. Of course I will,” Delta said.

Laughing, Vivian left, closing the door behind her.

The smile dropped off Delta’s face. She prayed this album was a success. That was the only outcome that made participating in this fiasco worth her while—and worth facing Ignacio and his wrath.

Chapter Six

Normally, Delta’s dressing room was a place of serenity and calm, but tonight it was chaotic.

Her entire glam squad was in attendance to get her ready for the Black and Gold Music Experience. Two members of her team were men—her makeup artist and Pierre, her personal shopper and fashion consultant. Both had flown in from LA. The two women were her hairstylist and nail technician, both based out of Atlanta.

Her publicist, Rochelle, sat in the corner, her raven hair hanging in bone-straight sheets that hid half her face as she texted. At the event, she would accompany Delta as she strolled the red carpet.

Dressed in a white robe, Delta sat in front of her vanity chatting with fans on Instagram Live as she prepared for the big night.

She let out a peal of laughter at a comment from one of the viewers. “It’s a lot of work to look the way we do. I wish I woke up like this,” she said.

She extended her right hand so the nail technician could work on her nails while the stylist gently pulled her hair out of huge rollers.

Leaning slightly forward, Delta read the next question on the iPad screen. “Are you going alone or is Ignacio Santana going to escort you?”

Instead of answering, she smiled coyly and purposely fueled speculation by saying, “I’m looking forward to an amazing evening. The Music Experience is one of my favorite events to attend each year.”

Emoji-filled comments raced up the screen—exactly the reaction she had anticipated. She felt a surge of guilt at the excited comments but reminded herself that what she and Ignacio were doing was a necessary evil. There was no other way to get what they both wanted.

Minutes later, she turned off the live stream and let the team finish their work. Almost an hour later, she examined her appearance in the floor-length mirror.

Standing off to the side, Rochelle eyed her from head to toe. “You look stunning,” she gushed.

Delta took the compliment in stride, smiling herThank you.Her team had truly done an amazing job. First, her hair was styled in loose curls that tumbled onto her shoulders. Her hair didn’t always behave, but it was being good tonight.

Her shimmering gown was a Balmain original. The lavender color complemented her dark skin and hugged her curves, the high slit on the left revealing her toned leg, a testament to her hard work with a personal trainer. Her makeup artist had dusted glittering bronzer onto her shoulders, which were shown off by the strapless design of the dress.

Pierre’s dark brown hair fell over his forehead as he lowered to his haunches and completed her outfit by slipping a pair of Piferi metallic gold sandals with ankle straps on her feet. “Now for the finishing touch,” he said, fastening a diamond choker around her neck.

Delta tossed her hair and squared her shoulders the way she had been taught in etiquette classes as a young girl. “How do I look?”

“Stunning,” the nail technician whispered.

---