Jace's POV
I was still chewing on Zander’s words when we stepped out of that glass-walled prison he called an office. His voice lingered like smoke in my skull:
“Your father’s been asking about you.”
The phrase sat in my gut like bad whiskey. Bitter. Burning. Refusing to go down smooth. My father asking about me wasn’t a good thing--- it was never a good thing. And if Zander ever let that leash slip, if my old man tried to drag me “home,” I’d vanish so fast they’d assume I got ran over by a bus.
Hands shoved deep into my hoodie pockets, jaw clenched tight, sunglasses slipping lower on my nose, as I stalked through the sunlit hallway, pretending I didn’t feel that shadow chasing me.
And then.... like the devil himself had a sense of humor. She appeared.
Cassandra Clay.
She materialized at the far end of the corridor like a neon migraine. A living, breathing Barbie doll dipped in pastel pink, and glossy blonde curls bouncing around her surgically crafted face. She was sunshine on steroids, and radiation packaged in stilettos. And trailing behind her, like obedient NPCs, came her two clones---Stacy and Nuel. Plastic smiles, plastered onto their faces, with their eyes completely dead. The whole cult-member starter pack.
"Jaaaaace!"
Her voice shrieked down the hall like nails on a chalkboard. I flinched, but it was already too late to run. The devil’s spawn had locked onto me.
Next thing I knew, Cassandra was in my space, clutching some bedazzled heart-shaped tin like she was holding the cure for cancer.
“I heard you were back from Iceland, so I made you cookies!” she practically sang, shaking the box in my face. “Please, have some!”
Here we go again...
Look, here’s the thing about Cassandra Clay. She wasn’t just an actress, she was one of Aurum’s golden girls. Poster child. Tabloid darling. She’d been trying to push the “Jace & Cassie” power couple fantasy since the day I signed my contract. For the fans? For herself? Who knows. Either way, I wasn't climbing aboard that sinking disaster.
She doesn't just flirt, yknow? She staged spectacles too. I'm talking--- full Broadway-level productions. Staged paparazzi shots, carefully leaked “rumors,” even fake stories about our secret dates. Two months ago? she went on livestream and “accidentally” hinted that I was sooooo sweet off-camera.
Sweet? Me? I’m about as sweet as cyanide. Everyone knows that!!
“Cookies,” I said flatly, staring at the rhinestone box like it was ticking. “At ten in the morning?”
“Yes!” She beamed so hard I thought her face might shatter. “They’re triple-chocolate and sugar-free. Because I care about you, Jacey.”
Jacey? God. I wanted to fling myself out a window.
I slid a look at Kai, a silent plea for him to tackle me out of this nightmare, and give me a mercy kill. But you know what he did? Nothing, that's what! His face was like granite. Unreadable. Some fucking bodyguard he turned out to be.
“Thanks,” I muttered, voice bone-dry. “But I don’t do carbs before noon. Or… ever.”
Cassandra's smile faltered like I just kicked her puppy. "But... I made them for you."
“They’re probably poisoned,” I deadpanned, loud enough for half the floor to hear.
“Jace!” she gasped, scandalized, hugging the glitter box like I’d stabbed it.
YOU ARE READING
101 Ways To Tame A Rockstar
RomanceKai sat at the edge of the bed, jaw tight, big hands wrapping gauze around my split knuckles. He was too careful, too quiet- the type that comes right before a storm rips through you. I woke up halfway through, yanked my hand free. "Don't touch me."...
