by Alexis Angel
Ah, life was so much easier before all this.
“You okay?” Anders asks me, taking my hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I tell him, looking into his eyes and managing what I hope to be a confident smile.
“It’ll be okay. I’m here, no matter what,” he says, his fingers tangled on mine. Watching his smile, and the way he’s holding my hand right now… Well, I can’t help but believe him.
“Alright, everyone!” A loud voice booms through the huge speakers mounted overhead, and the whole crowd goes silent. Every pair of eyeballs in the room turn toward Grady, now standing in the middle of the stage, a wide grin on his face and a mic in his hand. “Are you ready for this?”
“YEAH!” The crowd roars in a single voice, and I can tell that people really have big expectations for this launch.
“As the CEO of Bad Boy Publishing, it’s my immense pleasure to announce to you that we’re about to release a book that’ll change the romance industry for good. You’ve probably heard quite a few rumors about that, and let me assure you: it’s all true.”
People start talking in a hushed tone, but then Grady continues to speak and drowns out the voices from the crowd.
“Now, let me show you what I’m talking about,” he continues, walking toward the end of the stage. A red curtain that reaches for the ceiling hangs there, and Grady just goes for it and grabs it; with a harsh tug, he pulls on it and the whole thing just falls down, revealing a giant sized poster of the The Virgin Market cover.
My jaw just drops as I look at it.
My eyes dance over the purple font, the title The Virgin Market shining like bright neon. And on top of it, wrapped in dark shadows, there’s Logan; he’s sitting down with his naked chest, looking straight at the reader with a look that screams please, take your panties off. It’s a perfect cover, better than anything I imagined—the only detail I’d change would be the Bad Boy logo on the right corner of the cover.
“They really went all out on this one,” Anders says, and he has to lean into me and scream out the words. Right now, the whole crowd is chattering about the cover, and it sounds like a swarm of angry wasps. I let my gaze roam over the hundreds (or should I say thousands?) of people packed together, all of them staring up at the cover of a book I wrote, and I can’t help but feel a little excited. As much as this whole deal with Grady sucks, it’s still my book we’re talking about.
I’ve finally become a real writer, just like I always wanted. I just never thought it’d feel this bittersweet of an achievement.
“Now, I know you ladies want to see more … give it up for Logan!” Grady shouts into his mic, and that’s when I see Logan walking up the stairs on the other side of the stage. He’s wearing a button-up shirt and jeans but, as he makes his way toward the center of the stage, he gets rid of his shirt quickly enough; he throws his shirt toward the crowd, and I watch as an overly excited woman jumps up in the air to grab it.
Grabbing a chair, Logan takes it all the way to edge of the stage and then sits on it, making the same pose he’s doing on the The Virgin Market cover. God, he looks magnificent.
“And now,” Grady continues, doing his best to talk over the high-pitched voice of women going into hysterics as they stare at Logan. “A round of applause for our rising star, Lana Hartley.”
That’s my cue, huh? I guess it can’t be helped.
Taking a deep breath, I walk up to the stage and smile down at the crowd, suddenly feeling dizzy as I realize the amount of people crowded together right now. I can’t’ believe that so many people are here because they want to read my book. As much of a bastard as Grady might be, I gotta give it to him, he really went all out with promoting The Virgin Market.
“Smile, Lana, smile,” Grady whispers as he walks up to me, a fake exuberant smile on his face. “You might not like this, but it’s for the best. You’ll make lots of money with your little book, and we’ll all go home happy.”
“It isn’t about the money,” I whisper back at him through my gritted teeth, my whole body tensing up as I resist the urge to simply slap him.
“Oh, you’re right. It’s also about payback. More than the money, I wanted to steal you from Abby,” he tells me, and now his grin becomes genuine, except it's a devilish grin, one that could only show on a petty man’s face. A man like Grady.
I stare at him, saying nothing, and he just shrugs. “Play your part, and soon enough this will be over,” he tells me, and then he turns to face the crowd once more.
“Now, we’ve prepared a little surprise for you… Who’s ready for that?” he asks, and you can already guess what the crowd replied. A loud ‘yeah’ erupts on the mouths of everyone looking up at the stage, and Grady calls upon Logan again.
Getting up from the chair he was still sitting on, Logan joins Grady and I. Our eyes lock and he offers me a sad smile. I don’t want to, but my lips react before I can think of what I’m doing and I smile back at him.
Closing the distance between him and I, he leans toward me and whispers a few words into my ear, one of his hands resting on my waist.
“It’ll be okay. I promise, Lana.”
I know I shouldn’t but… I believe him.
31
Logan
It’s show time.
The spotlight is on me, and Grady hands me his mic. Taking it from his hands, I then walk to the edge of the stage.
“Is everyone ready for this?” I shout, my voice echoing through the cavernous main room of the convention. The crowd shouts a loud YEAH in unison, and I let my eyes wander over the thousands of people waiting for me to start playing the video trailer. I let all the eyeballs down there devour my fucking naked muscles for a few seconds more, and then I turn back.
Alright, it’s time to burn down the whole fucking house.
I walk to the other end of the stage and I meet Lana’s eyes again, and I feel that fucking sadness well up inside of me once again. Anders is by her side and; while his face is stone cold, the lines in Lana’s tell me a story of sadness, disappointment, and heartbreak. And that … fuck, that’s hard.
But like I just told you: it’s show time. And the show I’ve prepared for tonight is going to bring the whole house down. Allowing a fucking glorious smile to shine on my face, I turn my back to the crowd and step behind the mixing table where a laptop is set up. I place my finger over the touchpad, and let the cursor hover over the video trailer, and then, sure that no one is watching what I’m doing, I take an USB pen out of my pocket and slide it into one of the laptop sockets.
Opening it, I then press play on the sole video file I’ve stored inside the pen.
Everyone has turned to look at the projection behind me, but I don’t bother with it; the file I’ve chosen for this presentation is an audio one. Yeah, as you can guess, I didn’t exactly play the file with the video trailer.
I lean back against the table and prepare for fucking Armageddon to start.
“I now have proof that you engaged in sexual intercourse with the wife of one of the most powerful men in the industry,” Grady's voice explodes through the speakers, and I turn my gaze toward him so that I can enjoy the look of pure surprise and desperation on his face. Serves you right, motherfucker. “And now,” the tape continues, “if you want to keep on working in this industry … you better do as I say, Logan.”
I hear the crowd muttering as the audio file continues playing, and I grin as I watch Grady run toward me, his hands desperately reaching for the laptop. Unfortunately for him, he’s much weaker than me (you know, all these fucking muscles aren’t just for show), and all I have to do is stand up and press one hand against his chest to keep him out of reach.
“Not a fucking chance, asshole. Everyone’s going to hear every word of it,” I tell him to his face, still unable to wipe that grin off my face. This is my moment of triumph, and I deserve to enjoy it with a fucking grin on my face.
You see, when I went to Abby with the manus
cript, she was already aware of everything that was going on. She’s a smart woman, no fucking doubt about it. Remember the woman with whom Grady fucking blackmailed me? Carla, the wife of the Romance Guild CEO? Yeah, she really wasn’t the wife of that guy.
“That woman that Grady refers to, is right there!” I say, pointing to fake-Carla - whose real name is Jennifer. The crowd turns to face her and she gives a shy wave.
She was actually a fucking Naughty Angel working for Abby. Call it corporate counter-espionage, if you will. She played Grady, pretending she was the wife of an important guy, and then all she had to do was allow him to hang a noose around his neck.
Back when Grady burst into the room where I was fucking her, she pretended to leave, but left a small recording device tucked inside one of the cardboard boxes in the storage room where we were. The moment she saw Grady and I leave, she retrieved it and went straight to Abby.
Now, you probably have a few questions. Like, why didn’t Abby fucking stop all this from happening? Why did she let everything unfold like this? I know these questions are on your mind because I had them as well. And I voiced them to Abby. And her answer was a ruthless one—as badly as she wanted to sign Lana and buy her manuscript, she needed to take Grady out first.
He had been trying to destroy Naughty Angel Publishing ever since Twelve Inches rocked the industry and, like a lioness defending her cubs, Abby fucking prepared for battle. Really, I gotta give it to her; she played everyone like a fucking mastermind, pulling the strings behind the scenes.
Too bad she didn’t fucking tell me till I knocked on her door. Gave her the manuscript. She took one look at it and looked at me, with that perfect body of hers.
“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” she asked with a smile. “Wanna come inside?”
That’s when Aidan and Abby explained the whole thing. How I had to go along with it. Couldn’t tell anyone.
And now that Grady is out of the scene, getting Lana out of her contract with Bad Boy Publishing is going to be a fucking walk in the park. I just hope she fucking forgives me for everything I did.
“THIS IS FALSE! ALL OF IT!” Grady screams as the audio comes to an end, and the silence in the whole convention room is so deafening that you’d be able to hear a pin drop; well, I mean, you’d be able to hear a pin drop if Grady hadn’t entered full desperation mode.
I’m sorry, buddy, but you’re pretty fucked right now. And there’s no way out of this.
“You played me,” he hisses, taking wide steps toward me and balling his fists. “You fucking played me!”
“Yeah, and so fucking what? Are you going to fucking hit me, little man?” I laugh straight into his face, placing one hand on his chest and pushing him back. He stumbles back awkwardly and he almost falls down on his ass. Rage washes over his face, and I can tell that he’s ready to charge me.
Well, if he wants it that much, I can crack his skull.
Lucky for him, it seems I won’t get that chance because right now, there’s someone walking up the stairs and onto the stage.
Abby Cleveland.
32
Abby
“Babe, I probably would back up a few steps from Logan before he hits you in the jaw for getting in his face,” I say with a smirk as my heels click on the stage as I walk towards Logan.
The crowd is eating it up - and why wouldn’t they? This is the stuff that Naughty Angel books are made of, if you ask me.
Yeah, I’ve learned a lot since we started this company. The indie publishing business is a tough one. You need grit. And strength. I’ve been lucky. I had Aidan. I can’t imagine the people that get into it on their own.
“What are you doing here?!” Grady sneers at me, but I can see the fear on his face.
“I’m pretty sure we’re going to be asking you that in just a few minutes,” I respond back cooly. Sure, I’m wearing sexy, I got the heels, the pearls. But if I can go toe to toe with this asshole if I need to.
Oh yeah, in case you don’t remember, I used to date this asshole before I found the love of my life. That’s right. Grady and I used to date back in the day. I caught him cheating on his desk with another author. My career wasn’t doing too well - it was probably because Grady was fucking other girls. But that’s the day I decided to go about it on my own.
With my PA at the time, Cheryl, who is still with me, and of course with Aidan, we built Naughty Angel Publishing. Into what it is today.
Only one thing was left to do before we could really expand however.
I had to take down Grady and Bad Boy Publishing.
“Jennifer, can you please come up on stage,” I say turning to her.
She comes up with a smirk.
“Remember her, Grady?” I ask, facing him. “You thought she was the wife of the Romance Guild CEO at one point, when a simple internet search would have proved otherwise.”
He blanches as I continue. “But you were so ready to get something from Naughty that you jumped at the chance to find a way to destroy us. You totally fell into the trap that she suggested where you’d extort poor Logan Kane into stealing a manuscript.”
Grady is silent.
“What you didn’t know, is that Logan is fiercely loyal. And he came to me before he delivered it to you. And if he hadn’t come to me wasn’t even a worry because unlike your company, I know the people that work for me are happy. And loyal,” I say, delivering a strong condemnation of Grady’s practices.
But it’s time to end this here and now.
“I don’t know how you became CEO of Bad Boy after everything that went down, babe,” I say and pause, “But in this state, whatever you did was enough to warrant your arrest for blackmail and extortion.”
On cue, two special police officers walk onto the stage from the back.
“Now wait just a second!” Grady protests.
That’s when I see Anders. He storms up the crowd and towards the stage.
I’m a bit surprised. Call it momentary shock. I didn’t see this coming. Anders is usually strong and silent.
But this time, he’s already bounding on the stage towards Grady.
“One last goodbye before the cops take your ass to jail!” he shouts and swings his arm back. He makes a fist and lets a powerful haymaker land on Grady’s face. Grady falls back and I wince as I hear a loud crunch.
“You’ll pay for this!” Grady shouts, wobbling and trying vainly to get up on his feet. “All of you!”
But it’s too late.
The cops have reached him already cuffing him and reading him his right. He’s sputtering and salivating - not sure what’s going on. He’s upset - that’s for sure.
Honestly, getting arrested may have saved his life.
But he brought this on himself. He shouldn’t be surprised. It all started the day he crossed me.
The crowd is looking on in stunned silence.
“Well, now that that’s sorted out, let me be the first to welcome Lana Hartley as the newest published author from Naughty Angel Publishing,” I say and the crowd gasps. I see Lana’s face light up.
“That’s right, babe,” I say with a smile. I always love this part. “From this day onwards, you’re known as Lana Angel for anything associated with the company.”
People are clapping her on the back and congratulating her. Logan is beaming. Anders is smiling. Lana has tears in her eyes.
“And yes, babe, we’ll bring dark romance into Naughty,” I say, as the crowd oohs and ahs. “It’s about time we did that. And you can head it up.”
I clear my throat and project my voice again. Anders hands me a microphone.
“As the first publication of dark romance under Naughty Angel Publishing, I’d like to announce the impending release of The Virgin Market,” I say. More spontaneous applause. More people crowding around Lana.
Her life is about to change now.
“But we need an author name or pen name,” I tell her, speaking over the murmurs of the crowd. “Have you tho
ught of what that could be?”
Lana takes a moment to bring herself back from Cloud 9.
She looks at me and with a straight face full of decisiveness she says to me, “Dark Angel.”
There’s a pause as Lana considers her next words.
“I want to write with you,” she says. “I want to co-write with you as…Dark Angel.”
I smile.
What a sexy name, no?
33
Lana
Oh, man, I have no idea who thought of placing these luxurious lounges in convention centers, but they’re the best things right after sliced bread. And you can probably guess why, can’t you?
That’s right, the moment Abby finished burying Grady, I dragged both Logan and Anders up to the lounge reserved for the higher-ups at Naughty Angel Publishing. I’m not exactly a higher-up (at least not yet), but I think I deserve to use this lounge right now. And I don’t think many people would disagree with me on that.
“Grab the glasses, it’s time to fucking party!” Logan shouts, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the table and placing his thumb under the cork. Flicking it up, he makes the cork fly up into the ceiling and ricochet down to his feet; champagne flows out of the bottle in a rush, and I run toward the table and grab two glasses, placing them under the river of alcohol and filling them up to the brim.
I hand Anders one of the glasses and take the other one for me; as for Logan, he doesn’t even bother with picking up the glass. He just grabs the bottle by its neck and throws his head back, chugging champagne heartily and then wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He’s really into this celebration, and really, can you blame him? Moments ago everyone thought he was a bastard, and he managed to redeem himself in just a few seconds.
“It feels so good to be with you two again,” I tell them, taking a sip out of my champagne and looking from Anders to Logan.
“That’s right,” Anders says, walking up to me and then turning around to face Logan. “Listen, man, the things I’ve said --”
