Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,86
drink in my hand. “Alexandra isn’t here, I’m afraid,” I say, opening a bottle of whiskey.
“Alexandra,” she says, drawing out the word. “Right. Well, that’s fine. I’m here to see you.” She wrinkles her nose. “Isn’t it a little early for all that?”
I glance over my shoulder and lift my glass. “Isn’t it a little late for all this?” She doesn’t answer because she knows I’m right. I may have brought the ball to the park, but she kicked it into play. I’ll be damned if I’ll let her climb up on her moral mountain now.
“Tell me I didn’t make a mistake, McCallum.”
“It’s Dominic, and what mistake would that be?”
Her fists tighten by her side as she crosses the parlor and plants her worn Doc Martens against the toe of my boots. “I gave you Angel’s address so you could help her have a better life. Not help yourself to one as well.”
Jesus Christ.
Slamming my glass back down onto the bar, I grab her arm, ignoring the string of curses flying out of her mouth as I drag her up two flights of stairs and into the cinema room.
“Let me go!”
Slamming the door, I shove her aside as I snatch the remote control off the couch and press every button I can find until the screen comes to life with, of course, some shitty Katerina Romanov film. With Violet still chirping threats in my ear, I jack the volume up, then toss the remote across the room.
“Are you insane,” I yell, stalking toward her. “Every wall in this house has ears. Are you trying to get her busted?”
Understanding dawns across her face, and she crosses her arms in a huff. “Maybe I should. Maybe living dirt poor in Chula Vista is better than”—scowling, she waves a hand around the pretentious room, then toward me—“whatever this is.”
“What are you trying to say, Miss DeLuca?”
“I knew your reputation, and I still served my friend to you on a silver platter. But I didn’t think even you would sink as low as to take advantage of a woman with no memory of her past.”
I stiffen. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating, Violet.”
“And I don’t like what I’m seeing on my television, Dominic. I see the way she looks at you. She cares about you—more than she should. Funny,” she says, those heavily lined eyes narrowing to barely-there slits, “I see something very different in your eyes.”
Impossible. She’s just pissed she didn’t negotiate a finder’s fee, so she’s setting as many traps as she can, hoping I’ll fall into one.
“And what’s that, Miss DeLuca?”
“Dollar signs.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Is that right?”
Violet’s eyes flick toward the movie screen. “Angel is a wealthy woman now. Quite the cash cow for a man such as yourself.”
“Careful, Miss DeLuca. I’ve made a very lucrative career from destroying people’s lives.”
She whips back around, eyes blazing. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact.” Now that I know her game, my voice is dangerously calm.
I’ve been accused of money mongering all my life. Most of the time, the accusations were true. This time, well, I’ll let Violet DeLuca think what she wants. Because she means something to Angel, I won’t push back.
Unless she does. Then the gloves come off.
“Angel and I are very happy.” I circle her, her eyes following my every move. “And we’re going to stay that way, or you and I are going to have a problem. Do we understand—”
“Vi!”
We both turn around as Angel comes barreling through the door, her arms open and a smile on her face I haven’t seen in months. She crashes into Violet, wrapping her in a hug so tight, I’m not sure either of them can breathe.
Violet squeezes her just as fierce. I watch. I study. And as Violet’s eyes shift my way, I warn. Don’t do it.
“Rook, I thought you were on set?”
Angel breaks their embrace and waves her hand. “Noah came down with food poisoning, so I shot a few scenes without him, and the director called it a day.”
Wonderful. A full day at home. Just Angel and Violet.
As I count up all the things that could go wrong, Angel squeals and hugs her again. “I can’t believe you’re here! How long are you staying?”
“Only a couple days, if it’s okay with you.”
Days? What the fuck?
Gritting my teeth, I will her to look at me, but the bitch purposely ignores me.
“Okay?” Angel squeals again, and this overly perky attitude is starting to grate on my nerves. “Stay two days,