Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
I fucking hate pink.
A trip to the nearest salon may be a flimsy excuse to leave, but I take it. Spinning on my Dolce heels, I finally give my team my full attention. “I’m not doing any interviews, nor am I apologizing for something I’m not sorry for.”
“Aurelia—”
“I’m talking now. The public may not like this new me, but guess what? It’s the me they’re going to get from now on. Find a way to fix this that doesn’t include me sacrificing my last shred of integrity.”
I feel my uncle’s gaze on me, but I avoid it because I know if I look at him, I’ll back down. I always back down.
I see my chance for the first time—an open window while the walls are slowly closing in on me.
I run for it.
Freedom.
I refuse to apologize to Tania, but I will express my gratitude. Thanks to her scheming, I’m free.
I finally get to drop the act and maybe, just maybe, find out who I really am. And if it’s the villain everyone thinks I am, well, so be it.
AURELIA
One Year Later
It feels like I’m on the lam.
The moment I step out of the chauffeured car in the dead of night, my uncle takes my arm in a harsh grip and ushers me across the tarmac as if I’m an errant child. Cassie, my newest assistant in a long line of failures, silently follows like a meek little mouse, the tail of her blue and purple striped scarf flowing in the wind behind her.
Wrestling my arm free once we’re on board my private plane, I drunkenly stumble over to the closest reclining seat and give my uncle a mocking smile once I slump into the cushy leather.
“Whisking me away and out of sight,” I taunt. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think, Uncle Mars?”
Cassie keeps close, but my security team takes their seats far away from me. The only face among them I recognize is Ty Westbrook, and what a handsome face it is. He’s the only one of my bodyguards who hasn’t been fired by my uncle for selling my secrets or has quit because I’m kind of a bitch.
“Aurelia, goddammit,” my uncle swears at me. “You leaked a sex tape of yourself and then called your co-host a tone-deaf sheep!”
“One, I didn’t leak it. I was hacked,” I correct. The lie works for other celebrities. Why not me? “Two, my face wasn’t in it, so it could have been anyone. And spare me the lecture, Uncle Mars. Tania needed to learn why taking things that don’t belong to her and crossing me is bad for her health. Need I remind you she stole my song? And even you have to admit that Tania sounds like a sheep when she sings. Baaaa-baaaaa! I wish I could be like Aurelia. Baaaa-baaaaa. See? Spot on.”
I hear a cough behind me and know it’s Tyler smothering his laugh, but I don’t dare look across the aisle with my uncle watching. One whiff that my relationship with the former soldier transcends professional indifference and I’ll never see him again.
My uncle considers the idea of me having a meaningful relationship with anyone beyond my accountant, voice coach, and the stage completely frivolous and forbidden.
“It was on live TV, Aurelia. Your outburst was seen by millions.”
My smile feels more like a sneer when I cock my head. “Would it have been better if I’d treated her horribly where no one could see, Uncle Marston?”
The question hits close to home and ruffles his old feathers like I knew it would. Knowing my uncle won’t answer for his sins, I snap my fingers, and after a flurry of confusion, a champagne flute is hesitantly placed in my hand by the flight attendant.
“What’s your name?” I ask after she makes the mistake of making eye contact with me. I’ve perfected the art of appearing poised even when I’m lit up like a Christmas tree. My elbow is braced on my crossed legs as I sip my champagne.
“Susan.”
“Susan. What an awful name for a child. What were your parents thinking?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Well, you should ask them.”
“They’re dead.”
“Susan, do you think I should have to beg the help for a refreshment?”
“Oh.” The flight attendant’s cheeks redden. “No. I’m so sorry. It’s just that your uncle—”
Already knowing what she’s going to say—that my uncle called ahead and ordered them not to serve me any alcohol—I feel my nostrils flare. “You don’t work for him,” I tell my uncle’s spy. She’s one of many, but I hate her no less. “You work for me, Susan.”
“My apologies, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? You’re older than me.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Aurelia, leave the stewardess alone and let her get back to work,” my uncle orders.
My smile is sharp when I regard my uncle. “I believe they’re called flight attendants now, Uncle.”
Susan apologizes before excusing herself.