She’d pushed me away.

Did I blame her?

Hell, I’d walked away.

I’d let her down by letting Blair get this far. Maybe I should have been easier with Blair at the jewelry store. I’d seen how crazy she was getting, but really my head had been too caught up in V and our relationship.

How was I going to save her?

I had to stop these pictures from ever seeing the light of day.

I’d left V’s earlier and driven to Blair’s house and beat on the door. I’d called her and left voicemails, some angry and then toward the end I was bargaining with her, promising her that I’d serve myself up to her on a silver platter if only she’d call off the photos. God, I was willing to do anything to get her to see reason.

I was desperate, willing to compromise with a selfish lunatic.

Because of V.

I was scared of the way I felt about her. Scared that I couldn’t exist in a world without her.

She was everything I wanted.

Everything I needed.

Everything.

I got weak in the legs and sat. This was not a normal reaction to a girl dumping my ass. No, this was more, and I could finally own up to what had been plain as day to me for days yet I’d refused to say it.

Our souls were one. They always had been and never in a million years would I find another girl like V. I loved her.

Down on my knees, wanting to beg her to take me back, I loved her.

I’d been deluding myself, focusing on my lust, but we were so much more.

I wanted to hold her in my arms and watch her sleep. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair when I kissed her. I wanted to rock her when her grief made her weep. I wanted to sleep with her body curled into mine. God. I wanted to have babies with her. I wanted to grow old with her.

Nothing mattered but V.

Not money or power.

Not being the star of the next blockbuster or recording a number one song.

Not even world peace.

Because the only thing that makes a difference in our lives is love. My parents had it. Leo had it. Violet. Love. Us.

“People will stare. Make it worth the look.”

—from the journal of Violet St. Lyons

THE NEXT DAY was the gala, and my time was running out.

One thing for sure, though, Blair Storm’s ass was mine, and I knew exactly how to make her pay.

I got her address and phone number from Mila and at six in the morning I walked up to her door.

The day before had been insane. After meeting Hing at Wilson’s, I’d driven around LA, trying to get my head straight and figure out how to use Hing’s offer to my advantage. Wilson’s son Mark had popped in my head, and on a whim I’d called him, explaining what I needed without divulging the details of Blair and the pictures. He’d immediately offered up one of his top entertainment lawyers at my disposal. He was sweet on me, and I’m ashamed to say I used it. The lawyer and I met Hing at the Rio, and after three hours of negotiation, we worked out a deal that was foolproof—if Blair cooperated.

Bang, bang, bang!

I knocked and yelled for ten minutes before Blair finally showed up, eyes red and swollen from crying. From losing the movie? Part of me—the side that had lived with my own loss—felt for her. My music and my parents had been all I had. Maybe acting was all she had.

She found her bitchy side and curled her lip, her narrowed eyes glittering down at my tapping hands. “What are you doing here this early, freak?”

“You’ll be thanking me later. I just saved your ass.” I smiled even though my stomach was in knots.

“I don’t even know what that means.” She sniffed, turning her attention to her nails.

“And you won’t until you invite me in. Or you tell me to go away, but you’ll regret it.”

She snorted and flicked a piece of flaxen hair over her shoulder. “I’m the one with photos of you. It was quite a hardship taking those—the bushes and wet grass wreaked havoc on my shoes. I just wish I could have been there to see your face when you looked at them.”

Keep smiling, I told myself. I chuckled knowingly. “Oh, Blair, you ruined a perfectly good pair, then, because I loved those pics—except the fake ones of you, of course. They really showed your age.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”

I sighed, studying my own nails. Two can play her game. “Just a little tip: There’s more to me that you think. If you’d done your research, you’d know that I have enough money to sink you in every way I can imagine, legal or not.”

“Are you threatening me?” she gasped and clutched her chest.

Oh, please. “Not only can I make sure your name is smeared in every reputable newspaper in America, my clout in Hollywood is on the rise. I met with Hing last night. He’s listening to me.” I winked. “He finds me quite entertaining. I think we may be new best friends.”

“How?” Her body stiffened.

“We need to chat. I suggest we move this inside. We have a lot to discuss.”

She tightened her robe and moved to the side as I entered and followed her through her spacious house. Cold and modern, it was stocked with photos of her everywhere. She led me back to the kitchen and indicated I take a seat. I stood. She did as well.

I crossed my arms. “I’ll be brief. You have some pictures that belong to me, and I want them back, including the ones of you and Sebastian. I’d like the camera, your cell phone, your laptop, and any other drives where you might have downloaded the pics. I’m assuming you haven’t sold them yet?”

“Not yet, but I have plans.” She went to the cabinets and pulled out a can of coffee.

Keep going. Push her. “You know, it’s simple really. I lost my parents, but I refuse to lose Sebastian. I will fight you every step of the way. I will destroy you to save him.”

“You’re boring me, Violet.”

I chuckled. “Last night, I made a list of ways to ruin your life, Blair. It took up five pages in my journal.” It was only one.

She planted herself in a kitchen chair and stared at me. “That’s intriguing, and yet, very unlike you. How?”

“I don’t tell my secrets, Blair, but if you’re smart, you’ll think about those pictures and the ramifications. Releasing them would be completely unpredictable. It’s career suicide for you—not just Sebastian—although lots of people get crazy famous when sex videos of them are released. But you have no control over which way it will go.”