Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,94

circle around me. “Or maybe a man makes his own way.”

He stops right in front of me, and I hold his stare.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Gritting my teeth, I clear every ounce of emotion from my voice. “Are you following up on Violet’s disappearance, or do you have a personal vendetta against Dominic, Detective Rubio?”

“Come on, Alexandra, he set you up, and you know it. Do you ever wonder why he showed up at the right place at the right time? Why he’s so fascinated with your past and your parents’ murder? Why he knows so damn much about it?”

I close my eyes, blocking out the vitriol he’s trying to bury me under.

No. You can’t get in my head. There’s no more room.

I promised Dominic I was his, and a promise is forever.

“This conversation is over, Detective. Hilda will see you out.”

“No need,” he growls. “I’ll see myself out.”

The blonde reporter holds the microphone up to Kya Perrone’s smiling mouth. “What do you have to say about the recent shake-up at Silverline Studios? There must be a lot of pressure taking over such a highly-publicized role.”

I stare at the television screen, scowling as Kya smiles into the camera. “Alexandra Romanov’s contract release from Silverline was unfortunate, but I’m excited for this opportunity.”

Contract release my ass.

On Dominic’s demand, I bought out my contract with Silverline, but that’s not the story Rosten spun to the media. As far as the world knows, Alexandra Romanov was canned and tossed out on her ass for shitty acting and a diva attitude.

Now all I have is time, so I’ve spent it picking apart every minute of the last three and a half months.

“Do you ever wonder why he showed up at the right place at the right time?”

“Rook? What the hell are you doing?”

Glancing up, I see Dominic standing over me. He looks about as exhausted as me. The lack of sleep is getting to us both. “Watching TV.” Sighing, I pat the cushion next to me. “Sit down.”

He hesitates for a moment, then sinks down beside me as if his bones can’t stand the strain anymore. All I want to do is crawl in his lap, bury my face in his neck, and tell him we’re going to be okay, but there are already enough lies between us.

“Detective Rubio came by today.”

His jaw clenches. “Any word on Violet?”

I shake my head. “No. But he said something that got me thinking.”

I’m terrified to give Rubio’s taunts a voice, but if I don’t, they’ll eat away at the few pieces of me I have left. He may hate me for asking, but I’d rather take a razor and slice open a vein than slowly bleed to death from digging at scars.

“Why do you know so much about the Romanovs?” My hands twist in my lap. “From the minute you walked in this place, you’ve never asked for directions. It’s like you—”

Static rages in my ears as a blinding zigzag line tears across my field of vision.

“Where are we going?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Somewhere safe.”

“How will we get there?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then follow me. I know the way.”

Just as quickly as they came, the lights and voices disappear, and the static clears. All that I’m left with is a racing heart and Dominic’s stone stare.

“Like you know where you’re going,” I finish.

“Rook…” The cold indifference of this past week chips away as panic flickers in his blue eyes. There’s a moment of awkward silence as if he’s trying to think of the perfect phrase that will shove me back in my cage. But it’s too late.

His mask has slipped.

Every breath feels weighted. “What’s going on here, Dominic?”

“Nothing.” His body twitches as the storm rolls in. He expects me to hurl both of us into a tirade of hysterics. But I’ve learned.

Sometimes a gust of wind can cause more destruction than a hurricane.

“Violet told me you had an arrangement,” I say, my voice calm. “When were you going to tell me that? Or were you ever?” Before he can piece together a response, I hit him with another accusation. “How do you just happen to have someone who can falsify DNA tests? That’s not normal, Dominic.”

He swallows hard. “Rook...”

“Is that part of your past?” My voice hitches up an octave. “The one you won’t tell me about. How are you connected to Luciano Ricci?”

Dominic’s expression changes. Leaning forward, he presses our faces only inches apart. Startled, I lean back, only to have him erase my gains, his hands pinning