Author's Preface
The first person to return to the condo was Nina, a bag over her shoulder and a cling-wrapped plate in her hands. She stopped short when she saw Sevan on the sofa, but then she only smiled at him and proceeded to the kitchen.
Sevan said nothing. Faint, renewed frustration prickling across his skin, he listened to the sounds of Nina putting the plate away in the refrigerator.
“Did you have anything to eat?” Nina spoke up. She was standing between the living room and the dining area, looking at Sevan like he were a lost puppy.
Who even is she? Sevan wondered. There was a small possibility she was related to Meika. She looked more Latino while Meika looked more East Asian, but they both had dark eyes, dark hair… Are the photos in Meika’s bathroom hers? Are they of her?
And the razor blade?
Sevan’s eyes involuntarily darted down across Nina’s arms.
“No.” Sevan shut the trap door on further speculation. This is not my pony parade. Lacey. Ultimately, he was here to find Lacey.
Nina took out her phone. “I’ll get something delivered. What do you want?”
And abruptly, Sevan’s brain switched stations. His eyebrows lifted. “That’s…really nice of you. Just whatever, please. I don’t know what’s around here.”
It was 70% hunger, Sevan discovered twenty minutes later when he was halfway through the combo Nina had ordered from a chain fast food place that didn’t exist in Carmen.
“Will you be spending the night again?” Nina asked. She was emptying the dishwasher.
Sevan watched her for a moment as she moved around the kitchen. “No, I think I’m just here until Meikhyel gets back. Did I take your spot last night?”
“Not at all, I don’t live here,” Nina responded. “Only Farren stays full time. I only spend the night sometimes to keep Meika company.”
Exactly what do you mean by that? Sevan wondered. His eyes settled on a flowering tropical plant. “Do you take care of all these plants?”
“Oh, no.” Nina let out a soft laugh. “The plants are all Meika’s. I only look after them when he’s away, and I struggle. All the different ones…” She made a pretty gesture with her hand and laughed again. “They all need different things.”
She’s a housekeeper, Sevan concluded. But she did quite a bit more than housekeeping here. Is Meikhyel sleeping with multiple members of his entourage?
There were sounds outside the door thirty minutes later, and then Meika and Farren entered. Another man in security uniform was with them, Sevan saw through the doorway, but this third person did not enter.
Immediately, Sevan knew something was off. There was tension in the air. Defensiveness in the way Meika’s chin was lifted, even as he smiled at Nina. And Farren was silent.
“There’s lunch in the fridge,” Nina spoke up with an uncertain smile. She sensed it, too.
Meika gave her another smile, but Sevan caught the side-eye he lifted to his bodyguard before starting for the hallway.
“Callisto.” Farren caught Meika by the shoulder, and Meika stopped like a robot—neither turning back nor resisting. “Let the guy who kept you alive last night have a look at you, alright? So we can continue keeping you alive?”
Prickles poured down Sevan’s spine at the sound of himself being brought into whatever mess this was. The feeling only intensified when Meika’s pretty eyes shifted to find him. The rockstar—pop star—whatever he was—made an exaggerated wave with his arm for Sevan to follow, then proceeded down the hallway.
Sevan stood up from the sofa like a wooden puppet and followed Meika to his bedroom. And as they both entered, Sevan realized this was his chance.
Meika stopped close to the bed and kicked off his shoes. He turned and met Sevan in the eyes, then raised his arms as if he were presenting himself for a TSA scan. “Get your looks,” he said lightly. And he did a dramatic three-sixty.
“How do you feel?” Sevan asked, ignoring Meika’s shenanigans as easily as he did the antics of the elderly residents at The Adaline.
“Good.” Meika dropped onto the edge of his bed and smiled.
God, he was beautiful. Unrealistically beautiful. But there was bitterness in his eyes, even as the expression of his lips lied.
“Your event didn’t go so well?” Sevan asked, taking an expedited detour away from the medical task he was supposed to be performing.
A small, pressurized breath escaped Meika’s lips. His eyes lowered, and he laughed softly. “No, I had fun. Too much, probably. Farren is pissed at me.”
Sevan nodded slowly. He watched Meika’s face for a few seconds, waited until those dark eyes lifted back to his. It was hard to imagine. Hard to place. Hard to sink into the reality that this was the same person who had walked off the eighth floor of that parking garage. Maybe he was just drunk that night in Miami, Sevan heard in his mind. Maybe he just overdid it last night with the oxy.
Then who was hiding razor blades in the bathroom?
“I remember you,” Meika broke the silence. His eyes lowered. “What are you doing here? You were in Miami. That’s a trek.” He smiled faintly.
Sevan’s lips met in a pressed line, eyes studying the figure in front of him. Was Meika insinuating he still didn’t remember what happened that night? Or was he surprised someone might go this far to find a missing woman?
“Did you tell them?” The corner of Meika’s lips tugged. Another smile. Easy, lying.
“Tell them what?” Sevan whispered.
“I didn’t tell them,” Meika said, his voice dropping to a whisper also. The smile across his lips wavered. “So, you must have.”
“I didn’t tell anyone anything.” Sevan stared at him. Hard, uncertain. Were they talking about the same thing?
“Oh…” A look of uncertainty crossed Meika’s face. Then, abruptly, another upward glance at Sevan. He smiled quickly and lowered his eyes again.
“Do you know where Lacey Kang is?”
Sevan saw it the moment it cracked across Meika’s composure: how he stiffened in reaction to her name. But when his eyes lifted, it wasn’t to check Sevan’s face. Instead, he glanced at the half-open door. “Lacey Kang?” He shrugged, heaved a sigh. “Maybe. I’m bad with names. Is this a friend of yours?”
So convincing—his tone, his delivery. And Sevan almost would’ve believed him. Why is he lying?
Prickles rose along Sevan’s spine. A flare of irritation immediately followed. But he held his composure as he answered vaguely: “Yes.” Then, “We met in Miami because you said you know where she is, remember? You responded to Lacey’s husband’s Instagram post? DMed him back and forth for a while?”
Meika’s eyes moved again in the direction of the doorway like he was plotting his escape. But his face was blank as it lifted back to Sevan. “Sorry, I wish I could help you.”
I don’t know what the hell I was expecting when he refused to tell me anything in the motel. Sevan watched Meika for five seconds longer, then nodded wordlessly and walked out of the room.
He only got halfway down the hallway before his footsteps halted at the sound of voices from the living room. A woman was speaking in a tense, hushed voice. And it wasn’t Nina.
“Do you want to tell me what the fuck happened this morning?” It wasn’t the woman with the purple manicure, either. It was Lara Dovan.
Sevan’s shoulder touched the wall, and he melted against it. What DID happen this morning?
“You know how he is…” Farren’s voice responded, also quiet.
“Bull shit . That is a bullshit excuse, Farren, and you know it. You are with him 24/7. It is your responsibility to keep his behavior in check. This is unacceptable behavior.”
“It was a flash mob. I guess he knew the choreography. I didn’t see it coming.”
“That outing was for Zhara and her family , not some fucking—”
“I know. I understand. It won’t happen again.”
There was a small silence. “It’s viral. It’s already fucking viral.”
“It’s not a bad look on him, at least. Publicly speaking. Participating in the community or whatever.”
Another silence.
Farren spoke again. Low, soft: “Is her family offended?”
“I don’t see how they wouldn’t be. I’ll be the one to reach out first if I can.”
“He doesn’t seem to like her very much.” This comment was very quiet.
And Lara snapped back instantly. “That is not for you to determine, Mr. Delrose.”
“Of course.”
Another silence.
“How did he get the oxy, Farren?” Low, controlled. Ice-cold.
Sevan took a small step closer to the living room entrance.
“I stepped out with Nina to take her to a doctor’s appointment,” Farren’s response came.
“And left the door wide open for him to score?” A harsh whisper.
Silence.
“You will search the place top to bottom to make sure he didn’t hide more somewhere,” Lara whispered. “Go through his phone. Figure out who he was in contact with for the drugs. And you will do your fucking job and not let him out of your sight. This is out-of-control behavior, Farren. Unacceptable.”
Go through his phone? He had misjudged, Sevan realized, frozen by the wall. They can just do that? He lets them do that?
With him 24/7. In his own home. Were they actually trying to replace a rehab program? He’s an independent adult, isn’t he? How old is he?
Certainly over eighteen. Then he was opting into this willingly. Was it a deal with RedViolet management so he wouldn’t be sent to rehab? Or cut from the label?
That private number. Maybe it had nothing to do with a media story, obsession, or curiosity. If the person behind the private number was Lara Dovan, was Sevan’s purpose to report Meika’s disallowed behavior?
Swift, heeled footsteps started toward the front door near the hallway Sevan was standing in, and Sevan abruptly shrank away from the wall. With no other direction to go in, he started back toward Meika’s room.
“Mr. Montego.”
Sevan froze. He turned around slowly and met face-to-face with Lara. Her sharp eyes scrutinized him for a moment. “Why are you still here?”
Why would she ask me that if she’s behind the private number? Abruptly, Sevan switched modes, mentally trying to scrounge together an explanation for why he had missed “work” that day.
Lara didn’t give him time to finish calculating. “I’ll call you a car,” she decided in a clipped voice. She started for the door.
Sevan stared at her back for three seconds. It wasn’t her, then. If it were Lara behind the private number, then Sevan was right where she wanted to him to be. But he clearly wasn’t.
There was sudden movement in the hallway behind Sevan. Meika’s bedroom door opened wider, and then the pop star himself was standing in the hallway, steps from Sevan. “I want him to stay, Lara. Here in the apartment.”
Whatever that was, it wasn’t what it sounded like. A frown flinched across Sevan’s face as he glanced at Meika, then at the living room for whoever Meika must be talking about.
Lara gave Meika four seconds to redact what he had just said, then let out a professional chuckle. “Absolutely not, darling.”
What the fuck is happening? ran through Sevan’s head like the background music at a circus.
“It’s practical to let him stay,” Meika spoke up, again halting Lara as she stepped toward the door.
She turned, a smile on her painted lips. She folded her arms across her small waist and tucked her shoulder to the wall like she was preparing to be amused by his proposal. “Go on.”
Sevan’s eyes darted back to Meika. He saw the processing taking place live across Meika’s face. Just moments ago, Meika had acted like he couldn’t be burdened to provide a few honest answers for Sevan. Now, was he trying to keep Sevan nearby? In this condo? The texts from the private number flashed through Sevan’s mind, detailing “Avis” as the person to watch, to photograph, to film and record. What was this?
“He can replace Strayer,” Meika said.
“Please. You’ll have to do better than that, babydoll,” came Lara’s response. “Strayer never stayed here, and a registered nurse is not qualified to replace him.”
A long silence followed.
They were talking about him. They were absolutely talking about him. Sevan checked Meika’s face again. The faint, easy smile on his pretty lips.
“I’ll kiss Zhara in public,” Meika said.
I beg your royal pardon? Sevan’s eyes darted back to Meika’s face, then to Lara. Deeper surprise hit him when he saw the gears turning behind Lara’s face—like she was somehow considering the outlandish proposal Meika had just made. Like it wasn’t what it sounded like.
“You’ll do a photoshoot,” Lara said, smiling.
“A photoshoot…” Hesitance flashed across Meika’s face.
“And you’ll do a very good job,” Lara added.
For the first time since the conversation began, Meika looked at Sevan. They met eyes. He must have seen the confusion in Sevan’s face, the absolute departure from reality in his blank stare. “Fine,” Meika decided.
“Done.” Lara smiled and stepped away from the wall. “This doesn’t change anything about the rules, Avis. No sleepovers. In fact.” She turned and gave Sevan a sweeping look all the way down. “No physical contact whatsoever.”
“No physical contact.” Meika smiled faintly, then lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers in farewell.
And it was only as Lara left the apartment that Sevan finally understood a small part of what had just happened. Meika hadn’t told them. Sevan hadn’t told them. Rick certainly hadn’t told them. No one knew about the parking garage. All RedViolet knew was that Meika had been found in a motel room with a male companion—and just like Jaq, they assumed he had been hooking up.
That Sevan Montego and Meikhyel Callisto had hooked up.
And Meika knew that’s what they thought.