bottle of Triple Sec. “Especially the one about her being abducted by aliens to create an alternate Hollywood universe.”
Topping the cocktail shaker with a strainer, she tosses a wink over her shoulder. “That one’s my favorite.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn away just in time to hide another yawn, but Violet digs her nails into my arm and spins me back around. “Babe, if those circles under your eyes get any darker, you’ll look like a raccoon. Are you still not sleeping?”
“Sleep is overrated.”
“It also keeps you from losing all your marbles and stuffing people in freezers.” Pouring the contents of the shaker into a glass, she slams it on Maggie’s tray. “You know you can’t…” Her voice trails off as her attention shifts back toward the blonde. “Now this just got interesting.”
Furrowing my brow, I follow her line of sight to where a man lowers himself into the chair opposite her. Immediately, the girl bats her eyelashes, a pinkish hue staining her cheeks. I’d assume it was all part of the act if I didn’t feel the same rush of heat across my own face.
I watch as the man drags a hand through his inky black hair, forcing the unruly piece in front to fall in line. Another reaction hits my gut, and I step back, desperate to escape it, but his cutting blue gaze draws me in like a magnet.
Even from across the room, the man exudes power. The kind of guy that plays God with other people’s lives for fun. Guys like that have a short shelf-life. No one can keep rolling the dice forever. They might win big for a while, but sooner or later, fate always finds a way to even the score.
Chapter Two
Dominic
Legends aren’t made; they’re created.
I decide this as the girl sitting across from me brushes her brassy blonde hair over one shoulder and slumps back into her chair.
Talent is rare in Hollywood, and in most cases, a hindrance. Just like opinions, true artistry encourages unique thought. It questions authority and dares to break the mold. Individuality is a threat to the deep pockets who rule this town. They prefer the moldability of mindless puppets. And that’s what this girl is: a puppet. Only she’s not one of the chosen to be crafted into a legend.
No, she’s attempting to scale that wall all by herself.
Sad.
“So, this is like, off the record, right?”
“I’m sorry?” Off the record? Who the does she think I am, Oprah fucking Winfrey?
She shrugs, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. “I don’t want some tabloid paparazzi jumping out and taking my picture or anything.”
“Beyond the News is not some tabloid,” I growl. “We’re an entertainment news website.”
She rolls her eyes. “Geez, sorry. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
Oh, I won’t.
Dipping my chin to the side, I give an imperceptible nod. That’s all that’s needed for Milly to snap to attention behind me and flip from designated patron to private detective.
Showtime.
Sitting back, I stare at her. “And your name again is…”
“Alexandra Romanov.” Her sharp tone pulls a hint of a smile to my lips, which only hardens her scowl.
“Right.”
“You don’t believe me?”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter if I do or not. Public opinion is the only one that matters.”
Behind me, I hear muffled laughter mixed with sounds of a cat coughing up a hairball, and I flip a middle finger while scratching the back of my head.
I’m firing Milly’s ass when we get back to LA.
That’s a lie.
Milly’s the best in the business and loyal as fuck. Even if she is a giant pain in my ass. Plus, she knows what’s at stake. We both know this fruitcake is as much an heiress as I am. I knew it the minute we walked into this hole-in-the-wall bar. So, while her act has been entertaining, why am I wasting my time?
Oh, right. Because I’m a bigger money whore than she is.
But even more than that, I thought she might be worth the effort, a rapidly dwindling hope. Unfortunately for her, destroying people’s credibility for a living has given me the skill of smelling bullshit a mile away.
Sucking air through my teeth, I force a smile. “All right then, Miss Romanov. Why come forward now? It’s been fifteen years.”
She seems to mull this over for a moment, but I know better. I’ve flicked bigger gnats than her off my shoe. She’s stalling because she’s nervous. I’ve knocked her off her game because I’m always on mine.
“I’ve been living in fear for