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"No shit," interjects Sinclair. "They're all too good for us. Thank god they haven't figured that out."
The other men laugh with him, but I don't have it in me.
"What did you agree to do?" Cade’s eyebrows knit.
"More to the point, what did Solonik promise you?" Michael growls.
I pivot, then stab a finger at him. "Shut the fuck up."
Michael’s lips thin. His shoulder muscles seem to swell. "You’re upset; it’s why I’ll allow you this one transgression." His black eyes seem to grow even darker.He’s a motherfuckin’ snake, is who he is. Like I fucking care?If not for the fact I need to be on camera in the next forty-eight hours, I’d swing at the man. Not that it’s advisable to pick a fight with the man who’s a legend in the underground world, and with the cops, as well.
"All right; back up, guys." JJ prowls over and stands between us. "Let’s all take a seat, shall we?"
"Let’s not," I growl.
He turns on me. "Sit down, dickwipe, and tell us what happened. We're trying to help you unfuck whatever the fuck you did. You’ve got the most powerful men in the country on your side. You don’t want to lose this fucking opportunity to try to set things right."
I open my mouth, but he throws up his hand. "You need us. Don’t even try to claim otherwise."
I draw in a breath, then another. Then force my muscles to unwind. Five-four-three-two-one. Some of the anger ebbs away. Fucking acting classes have their uses when you least expect it. I take a few steps to the side, so I’m no longer in the center of this very uncomfortable circle.
"Fifty percent of my investors pulled out of funding my movie. I needed to bridge the gap. So, I struck a deal with Nikolai Solonik."
"I fucking knew it," Michael snarls.
"The fuck were you thinking, resting dickface?" Sinclair Sterling snaps.
"That I needed to make another film and fast. And this time, I was going to source the funding. I was going to produce it, so I no longer had to hand over control to some prick…" I pause. The irony of my statement is not lost on me. "…who thinks he’s the greatest creative brain alive, when in reality, all he does is destroy my role until I don’t believe in the project anymore, and then it shows on screen, and you know what happens after that?" I make a sound like that of a plane falling out of the sky as I dive my hand to the ground. "Crash and burn, like my future."
"Or your love life." JJ scowls at me.
"It was a choice." I raise a shoulder.
"Did you do what I think you did?" The furrow between JJ’s eyebrows deepens.
I shake my head. "Nikolai agreed to front the money. I had carte blanche with it. I could choose my own creative team, the cast, the script. You know what that means to an actor like me?"
"Like you won the lottery?" Sinclair drums his fingers on his chest. "What was the catch?"
I rub the back of my neck. "Nothing. At least, not then. He said he’d call in a favor and—"
Sinclair groans.
"—he did." JJ completes my sentence.
I throw up my hands. "If you guys already know everything, why am I even bothering to speak?"
"Because you’re the shit-stain who gambled away your love for your career," Sinclair snaps.
"All I did was agree to an arranged relationship with the woman. One in which I’d get engaged to her, but there would be no real romantic relationship between us. And no marriage.”
"Who is she and why the hell does he want you to do that?" JJ frowns.
"The fuck if I know. Or care." I raise a shoulder. "I secured my future."
"You lost your present." He reaches forward and slaps the back of my head.
“Hey!” I stiffen. “Watch out, old man; you’re stepping across the line now.”
