Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,78

“Your performance, Alexandra. It’s lacking.”

I gape at him. “What? You’re just now telling me this? We’re six weeks into production. We go on location in a month.”

“I was waiting for that Romanov spark to appear. Your mother had it.” He raises his glass toward me, his gaze simmering. “You had it as a little girl. I know it’s in there. It just has to be coaxed out.”

“Coaxed out,” I repeat the words slowly.

Rosten slams the rest of his drink, something in his expression changing. It’s like a tiny crack in a windshield that suddenly splinters into a fractured web. “Until you reach your full potential, I want you in my office two hours before every call time. We’ll run the scenes together. I’ll read Noah’s lines.”

“You’ll read…Sebastian?”

“Will that be a problem? Because if you can’t handle the work, it’s not too late to pull Greta back in.” His lips part in a sadistic smile. “Or maybe Kya would be more professional.”

I let out a rattled breath.

“Of course, if you break your contract with Silverline, then you break our contract. Do I make myself clear?”

Damn him to hell.

If Kya takes over as Isabella, her career is made and mine is finished. All the lies and risks would have been for nothing. But more importantly, his promise to leave Dominic alone would no longer be valid.

Clasping my hands in my lap, I sacrifice dignity for strategy. “I need this role.”

“Good. It’s settled then. We begin on Monday.” I watch him slide over, every muscle in my body strained with tension. I’m trapped, pinned between Rosten and the door, and I swear, I’m one heartbeat away from releasing the latch and taking my chances on the 405. “This will be good for you, Alexandra,” he continues, trailing his finger up my arm. “You’ll see. I’m a very good teacher.”

This time I welcome the static. I beg for the zigzag lines. I strain to hear the voices. Because they take me to a place where Greg Rosten’s finger doesn’t trace my collarbone.

And never ever dips below it.

Sitting on the floor of my shower, I hug my knees to my chest, staring at the water as it circles the drain. I wish I were liquid. Then I could join it and melt away.

Down…

Down…

Down the drain.

“Rook? Where the hell are you?”

I blink, droplets of water gathering on my lashes. “Dominic?” His name is a whisper. My voice is shattered along with everything else.

Tears are a tool not a weakness.

Turning away from the stream, I wipe the back of my hand across my face and stand on unstable legs.

“Don’t cry, little one.”

“Where are we going?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Somewhere safe.”

“Enough,” I mumble. “No more tonight. Quiet.” Turning off the faucet, I tug a towel from the rack and wrap it around me seconds before Dominic comes barreling through the bathroom door.

“Hi.”

“Hi?” he roars, his chest heaving. “Don’t fucking ‘hi’ me! Someone said they saw you leave the premiere with Rosten. What the hell were you thinking?”

Stepping out of the shower, I hold the towel like a vice as I pass him. “He just wanted to talk about the movie, and then he dropped me off here.”

Please don’t ask me anything else.

Pulling on a silky white nightgown, I towel dry my hair and keep my head down as I climb into bed, my mind still churning.

I hear the clank of a belt and the rustle of denim hitting the floor, then the mattress dips as Dominic climbs in beside me. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I nod. “Yep. Fine.”

Apparently, he accepts that flimsy answer, or he’s tired of going in circles. Either way, he slides across the sheets and leans over me, kissing my neck while trailing a hand across my thigh.

My throat tightens. I can’t breathe.

“I’m really tired,” I rasp before rolling over, the back of my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“Rook, I…” Whatever he was going to say, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh and flops onto his back. “Goodnight.”

I can hear the walls coming back up. The ones I’ve spent months tearing down. Even then I don’t let the tears escape.

“Tears are a tool not a weakness.”

Especially the ones I’ve held back from the moment I ran from the gate to the moment I laid next to the man I have no doubt I’m falling in love with.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Dominic

Excess is not in my nature. As long as I have a roof over my head, food on my table, and clothes on my back,