Page 62 of Jagger
31
MOLLY
My hands are trembling, but somehow, I manage to smooth down my hair and apply a layer of nude lipstick. Antonio watches me from the bed with narrowed eyes.
"Find out what he wants from you, then seal the deal."
My legs turn to jelly at the thought of being alone with Jagger, but it's something I know I need to do. I need to put the past to bed—once and for all. I have no doubt Jagger wants to apologize to me, and so he fucking should after what he did. But Jagger wanting to work with me is affecting my career, and I can't have him seeping into my life like this. I'm on edge enough about it as it is, and Antonio doesn't care—he doesn't want me to turn down a chance to work with Jagger Knox.
"This will make my—your—career, Molly." I stare at my reflection and take a shaky breath, my hands turning clammy. Antonio isn't thinking of me.
"Seal the deal?" I echo as Antonio nods.
"Maybe he just wants to fuck you, darling."
I freeze at his words.
Is he serious?
"But don't fuck him," Antonio adds hastily. "Not until we have a contract in place." He crosses his arms and stares out of the window. "Yes, it will make my career photographing the two of you together."
Did he really just say that?I gape at him, but he shrugs.
"Come on, Molly, it's the game. Play the game and win."
All this time, I thought Antonio cared for me… I'm not stupid. I knew he was fucking other models. But he seemed to care…
But no one does. They're all just liars.
"I'm not fucking him or anyone," I bite out as he jumps to his feet, crossing over to me in seconds. His eyes look wild, and for a second, I'm scared.
But only for a second.
Because pressed against my ass is a handgun, a stainless-steel Smith & Wesson I purchased hours ago. I won't let any man tell me what to do anymore, especially not Antonio.
I drag it from the back of my jeans and watch as Antonio's eyes bulge, his hands moving in the air like we're in a Western.
"Don't shoot!" he begs, falling pathetically to his knees. I stare down at him, yet another man who wants to use me to better himself.
"Is that all I am to you?" I ask him, pointing the gun at his sweaty brow. "A career maker? All those times you told me you loved me were bullshit, I know, but did you ever truly care about me?"
Tears fill my eyes as Antonio babbles pure crap about how I'm the one for him. How much he loves me.
I'm tired of being used. But I'm not a killer.
"If you come near me again, Antonio, I'll kill you." I open the door to my hotel room and slide the Glock back into my jeans. He's still babbling, and my bodyguard stares straight ahead likehe's seen it all before—a skinny model pointing a gun at her cheating photographer boyfriend.
"Let's go," I say as he nods, closing the door to my room.
"You'll be okay with me down here?" Jon, my bodyguard, frowns. "I can wait with you."
I smile kindly and shake my head. Jon is the only person who cares for me, and that's because he's being paid. At least there's no bullshit with him.
"He's a pretty boy," I say, as Jon's brows twitch with worry. "It's fine, Jon."
His eyes move to the gun by my ass, and he sighs. "You know how to use that thing, right?"
I nod. "I do. I spent some time at shooting ranges with my best friend last year."
