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"Hey," I murmur, stroking her silky hair. "Talk to me, babe."
She shifts, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. Those aquamarine depths are turbulent with a storm of emotions I can't begin to untangle.
"I...I don't know what to say," she whispers, voice cracking. "Everything's just...wrong. Upside down."
"I know it is." I press a tender kiss to her forehead. "But we'll get through this together, alright? I've got your back."
She nods, blinking back tears. "I trusted him, Damien. Brandon was...he was like a father to me."
The rawness in her voice cuts straight to my soul. I pull her tighter against me, as if I can absorb her pain through sheer force of will.
"That sick son of a bitch took advantage of you," I growl. "Used your trust to control you, keep you under his thumb."
Andrea flinches at my harsh tone. I force myself to soften, reining in the fury simmering inside me. Getting angry won't help her right now.
"Sorry, babe. I just...the thought of someone hurting you like that..." I trail off, jaw clenched.
"I know." She rests her palm against my cheek, grounding me. "You're just trying to protect me. But I'm tired of being the woman in need."
"It won't always be like this."
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise. We'll get to the bottom of this and get you back to what you love most. Music."
A weary smile tugs at her lips, and some of the tension seeps from my body. This woman, god. She sees right through me, even at her most vulnerable.
"Thank you." She snuggles closer, basking in the protective embrace of my arms.
For a few blessed moments, the world shrinks down to just the two of us, cocooned in our private sanctuary. Then her brow furrows, a flicker of unease rippling across her delicate features.
"What about the record deal, though?" she asks softly. "If Brandon's been lying about all this other stuff..."
Ah, there it is. The other bombshell I dropped tonight, on top of everything else.
"You don't have to worry about that," I assure her. "I've got it all under control."
Her eyes widen, searching my face for answers. "But...how? You said you bought out the label?"
"Guilty as charged." I can't help the proud grin spreading across my lips. "Consider yourself an independent artist now, Miss Kingsley. No more controlling managers, no more strings attached."
A startled laugh bubbles up from her chest. "You...you did that? For me?"
"Of course I did." I brush a stray curl from her face, cradling her cheek. "Your music, your life...it should be yours, babe. No one else's."
Unshed tears glisten in her eyes as she gazes up at me, awestruck. In that moment, I know without a shadow of a doubt—I'd tear down the whole goddamn world for this woman.
"But how?"
"We can create a new contract for distribution and make it a collaboration with the label. This includes you retaining the rights to your previous works too."
"Oh my god… That must have cost you a fortune."
"Don't worry. It was an investment."
"Thank you," she breathes, leaning in to capture my lips in a searing kiss.
I lose myself in the velvet heat of her mouth, the salty-sweet taste of her. This incredible, resilient woman owns every last shred of my blackened soul.
