The Round Table has given me the perfect platform to spin this and weaken Melissa’s trump card with a single interview. A smile forms on my lips. Step one … dismantle. I text Sevyn and tell him to set up a conference call with him, myself, and Claude. He agrees to call me as soon as he sets it up.
“No rehearsal today?” Anderson asks, coming into the living room.
“Nope. Free day! Phoenix has some interview later, so we’re all finding something to get into,” Killian speaks up. He’s been quiet up to this point. He’s not much of a morning person.
“Ooh. Let’s have a barbecue,” Mitch says, a little too excited. Someone says free day, and he appears. That guy looks for any reason to party. “Ren and I can go get some meat to throw on the grill.”
While they discuss it further, I excuse myself for a shower. Melissa is sitting up in bed, toying with her phone when I enter the room.
I look past her and begin searching for what I’ll wear to this interview, optimistic for the first time.
“Where did you go last night, Phoenix?” she asks timidly. “Did you go to her bed?”
I give her my best “are you fucking insane” look. We already discussed that she isn’t in a position to question me. I’m not her guy.
“I slept on the damn sofa.” I give her the same spiel I gave Asher.
“Sorry for jumping to conclusions. It’s just that, I know how heady your sexual appetite is, and well … you haven’t touched me.”
She’s right about my insatiable sex drive. My dick has been at half-mast all day, every day. I’ve gotten a few good nuts in with Harlow and even a few self tugs, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in a constant state of horniness.
“You also know the extent of my self-control as well. I’m not at the mercy of my dick. I decide who gets a taste and when. I’ll make sure to give it an extra tug in the shower just for you.” I smirk.
She’s not happy about that at all. The thought that I’d rather jerk off than fuck her has to be a blow to the ego.
“How long are you going to keep punishing me? You’re not even trying.”
That’s it. She needs a quick lesson—a reminder of who’s in charge. I walk over to the closet and grab her two suitcases, flinging them onto the bed next to her.
“What are you doing?” she shrieks.
“Not trying,” I growl. “Now pack your shit.”
“No. No. No. Phoenix, please.”
“You shouldn’t even fucking be here. Can you fathom the fucking chaos that you’ve caused? You leaked my father was sick and threatened to leak our brand of kink? You tried to single-handedly bring down our company, and you’ve yet to say why.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry. You’re right. I know the fact that I’m here is you trying.”
“I’m trying to understand. Understand why someone I care about would try to hurt my family and me.”
“I promise that wasn’t my intent. I really messed up. You’re just so beyond reproach now with your rising fame. I needed something that would get your attention.” The fucking waterworks begin, and I’m surprised at the callousness I feel. “I tried finding you on tour, but you were dismissive—said that nothing could happen between us.”
“So you thought screwing with my family’s livelihood and reputation was the way back to me?” This chick is beyond mental.
“No. I just needed your attention. Good or bad. I had to start somewhere. I confessed to Sevyn what I did. I didn’t have to if my intent was malicious. I needed a way back in—a way for you to see me.”
“Congrats, Melissa. I see you, but it’s not the woman who was once an escape for all the bullshit in my life. Instead, you’re the cause. So tell me. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I didn’t think that far. I just know how much I love you. I’d do anything for you—anything to keep you in my life.”
“Yeah, except tell me the truth.”
I abort my plan for a shower and a jerk session. If I hadn’t stumbled upon her second phone, I’d probably have fallen for that Academy Award-worthy performance. It’s a testament to why I find it hard to trust—the reason I’m finding it difficult to let Harlow in. My entire life has been one lie after another. For fuck’s sake, Claude is not even my biological father,