His face has gone from pale to red.
"You're bluffing."
"I don't bluff. I plan, and then I execute." I straighten up, smoothing down my blouse. "So here's what happens next. You sign this agreement. You walk away with your reputation mostly intact—I'm feeling generous, must be the California sunshine. You get to tell people it was a mutual parting of ways, creative differences, whatever corporate bullshit makes you sleep better at night."
I pick up a pen from his desk and set it down in front of him with a decisive click.
"Or you fight this, and I make sure the only thing anyone ever associates with your name is 'that producer who assaulted his fiancée.' Your choice. Make it quickly, I have a flight to catch."
He stares at me like he's never seen me before.
Like I'm a completely different person than the woman he thought he knew.
Good.
That was always the problem, wasn't it? He never actually knew me at all.
"You really think you can do this without me?" His voice has an edge of desperation now. "The studio won't want to work with someone who's so difficult?—"
"The studio will work with whoever owns the IP," I interrupt. "Which is me. And I've already had conversations with producers who would love to take this on."
"You're making a mistake."
"No." My voice is pleasant. Almost friendly. “The only mistake I made was when I said yes to you."
I tap the contract.
"But I'm a big believer in learning from my mistakes. Personal growth and all that."
His hand moves toward the contract, then stops.
"If I sign this?—"
"You don't get to negotiate," I say, and my voice goes cold. "You lost that privilege the second time you put your hands on me. This isn't a discussion. This is me being extremely generous by giving you an out that doesn't involve criminal charges and royally fucking your future.”
I glance at my watch.
"You have two minutes to decide. After that, I walk out of here and straight to the police station."
The silence is deafening and after a few seconds, he finally picks up the pen. I watch him do it, feeling absolutely nothing except a distant sense of satisfaction.
When he's done, I collect the papers, sliding them back into the envelope with care.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
I walk out, my stride confident, my head high.
Now, it’s time to head home.
CHAPTER 46
A HOME, NOT A HOUSE
NORA
The plane landsin Eden just after sunrise, and the second my feet hit the ground, there's only one place I need to be.
I go straight to the studio without stopping to see Mom or Camilla or anyone. Hell I haven’t even changed clothes in two days. The parking lot is nearly empty when I pull in, just Julian's beat-up Honda sitting in the spot closest to the entrance.
