The Monster of Fame (The Price of Fame Series)

by Duffy, Aimée

  Her frustration grew, as did her fear of falling to pieces in front of him, overruling reason. “You can’t keep me here. I’m not your wife. I’m not Cassie.” The moment the words left her mouth, she knew then what it was that had been gnawing at her. It’s why she’d felt uneasy since he’d asked her to quit the show. Miles didn’t always see her when he looked at her. He saw his wife.

  His mouth dropped open, and his eyes grew wide with hurt.

  Pain battered her heart, but she couldn’t take it back now. She needed to get out. Away. Everything was too much. “Let me past.”

  He stepped to the side without saying a word. She ran out of his flat and straight into a taxi waiting for someone else at the side of the street.

  Once she was back in the house, she did a quick scan of the rooms and thanked her lucky stars it was empty. The last stop she made was her bedroom where she threw herself down on the bed and cried into the pillows.

  The truth of it was, he was kind, caring, and gave her so much without asking for anything in return. How could anyone not love him?

  But now it all seemed impossible. Miles, winning the show, saving her family. If the public saw her the same way as whoever wrote the article for the newspaper then she was truly up the creek without a paddle. Was that how her followers on EconEkt saw her too? Or worse, did they think she was sleeping with Miles to stay in the competition? Not that it would be an issue after what she said to him. Anna doubted he’d ever speak to her again. But the damage had already been done.

  Anna scooped her phone out of her bag. If they did, better to know now and save herself the humiliation of performing in the final. She could call it quits and prowl every shop in Dunfermline looking for a job. Two, if she had to. Either way, she had to know.

  The brick of a phone seemed to take forever and a day before the site loaded. Eventually it did and she gaped at all the messages she’d received today. Now, her following was over eight thousand and everyone seemed to be saying the same thing. The message was loud and clear.

  ‘Forget the press…they are arseholes.’

  Her heart stuttered as she scrolled through the messages. Not one was negative, and it not only gave her hope, but made her see exactly how silly she’d been to break down like that. And in front of Miles.

  No wonder he’d looked terrified, hadn’t he said that the pressure of the press and fame killed Cassie? The awful words she’d thrown at him in a panic to get out came flooding back.

  Frick, frick, double frick.

  But still, if he’d seen her for who she was in the first place, those words wouldn’t have left her mouth. Even so, Anna knew deep in her heart that when they made love, it was her that Miles saw. Not Cassie. It was only when she was close to tears that she felt he saw her as someone else.

  Anna shook her head. She’d blatantly insisted for weeks that she could handle all of this herself, to Miles and everyone else who would listen. Now she was breaking down in tears because a newspaper called her fat! She wiped a hand across her face, wiping away the last of the salty water.

  Sure, she’d been questioning his ability to love her when he was in love with his wife, but when she thought about it, sometimes he looked at her like he was staring deep into her soul. The way he always touched her whenever he could—whether it was a simple rub of her hand or full on caress—the way he was always kissing her both passionately and sometimes, sort of lovingly—and let’s not forget the way he drove her to a pleasure she never dreamed existed.

  No more Little Miss Pathetic.

  She was a heck of a lot stronger than she had been all those weeks ago at the SECC. If she wasn’t going to win next week because someone was better than her, well fine, she would deal with that and be a graceful loser. But she’d be damned if she was going down easy.

  Screw the paper. I’m not going down without a fight.

  She typed the words into EconEkt and hit send before logging out. Time to get her game face on and pick her winning song—the one that would not only win her the competition, but also the man she loved.

  * * * *

  Screw the paper. I’m not going down without a fight.

  Miles read the words over and over and tried to understand them.

  The day before, she’d been inconsolable. She’d left his house and ignored every one of his calls since. And there had been a lot of calls. It seemed the stalker within was trying to break free once more.

  Her parting comment hurt him more than he thought he could be again. Miles had been angry at first, what had made her think he saw her as anyone other than herself? Still, not being with her, not knowing whether she was okay was killing him and his anger had quickly dissolved.

  “How was that, man?” Kev asked, bringing Miles back to the here and now.

  “Great, it was great.” Guilt washed over him. Kev could have been singing Baa Baa Black Sheep for all he knew. Anna held every ounce of his attention these days. And she wasn’t even here.

  Again, he checked his phone anxiously.

  “I was thinking we could remix the chorus, it sounds too flat, what do you think?”

  Shame almost made him blush—and he hadn’t blushed since he was a boy. Kev was at his flat to rehearse for the finals. Miles had forgotten that it was his responsibility to give Kev the best chance at winning possible. All he could bloody think about was her.

  “Sure, let’s see how this works.”

  Miles fiddled with the dials on the mixer and layered in another track which could work well with the song, but all the while he could only see Annabelle’s distraught expression. Her face bone white and shining with the tears flowing down her cheeks like water flowing over smooth pebbles of a shallow river.

  “Yeah, man, that sounds cool.” Kev bobbed his head and tapped his foot to the tempo.

  And Miles still felt like an arse.

  He should be supporting Kev. The kid could sing and handle all the shit the press had thrown at him over the last few weeks. He seemed to take it in his stride.

  But his mind kept flickering back to Annabelle. What the hell was he going to do? He thought she’d grown strong over the last few weeks. He even began to think she might be strong enough to handle it all.

  Yesterday proved him wrong. Cassie had never broken down before, not in front of him anyway. Especially about something so ludicrous. How could she believe what that idiot had written about her? It was crazy.

  Finally, his phone buzzed. His attention was dragged away from Kev again as he opened the text.

  Sorry about yesterday. I’m fine, please don’t worry. I need some time xoxo

  His heart stopped beating when he saw Annabelle’s name. How could he give her time? Time which brought her closer to the night that would destroy her? Because, regardless of how hard he was working with Kev, she was the clear winner. Had been from the day she’d blown him away in Glasgow.

  Another image of Annabelle flashed into his mind then. She was lying on the floor. Her face sharp and angular, her lips white and her skin gray and lifeless.

  No.

  He wouldn’t let that happen. There was a way to make sure that she wouldn’t end up that way and he would do it, regardless of how much it hurt him.

  The pain of her leaving him to return to Scotland would be absolutely nothing compared to the agony of watching this life kill her. In the same moment that Miles realized he loved her, he knew he had to do the one thing that would make sure he lost her forever. His heart ripped in two and he was torn between breaking down in tears or smashing up his mini recording studio.

  He had to do it, and would hate himself forever. But at least she would still be alive and well. That was worth more than his heartache.

  * * * *

  Miles lounged in a chair at the back of the auditorium. Annabelle was on stage, rehearsing one of her songs for tonight’s finals. She looked so beautiful, even with her hair pulled back and wearing a simple oversized t-shirt and leggings.

  A lump formed in his throa
t as he realized that this could be the last time he’d hear her sing live. It might even be the last time he saw her. Over the last week he’d barely spent any time with her at all, they’d both been too busy with rehearsals. He’d probably regret that for the rest of his life.

  Not to mention all the press statements to reassure the country that he and Annabelle were just friends. He had lawyers on the case trying to halt the rumors before they could get any worse, but he hadn’t told her that. Whether she said she was fine or not didn’t matter, he knew she wasn’t.

  This morning, James brought him the paperwork that would allow Annabelle to leave the competition and go home. The fear of losing her was trumped by the fear of knowing if she won, the stress and strain would tear her apart, just like the damn press had almost done.

  All week, he had nightmares about that awful night he’d found Cassie in their home, although Cassie’s face had been replaced with Annabelle’s in his dream. He couldn’t let it happen to someone else. Wouldn’t let it happen to Annabelle.

  But what he had to do now would make damn sure she never wanted to see him again. It didn’t matter though, he’d survive a broken heart. He wouldn’t survive her death.

  The most beautiful voice in the world to him continued to sound out a harmonious melody and his heart swelled in his chest. She truly was amazing. If she was stronger he’d have taken her career anywhere she wanted it to go.

  And, he realized, he’d have been there by her side to support her and give her the constant reassurance and encouragement she deserved. There’s nowhere else he’d rather have been.

  He loved her so much that he had to do this. To save her. Even though it would mean he’d lose her forever.

  As the song came to its end, Miles picked up the papers next to him and made his way backstage.

  Chapter 11

  Every End Has A Start

  Anna stared into the mirror and didn’t recognize the girl staring back. Her sky blue eyes looked huge, framed by a thick brushing of dark lashes. Her lank hair was styled into elegant red curls and her mouth looked like Cupid’s bow, only pink.

  She’d changed so much over the last few weeks, both inside and out. Remembering back to that first week in her dressing room, waiting to go on stage for the first time had sent her into full-scale panic mode. Now, however, she was genuinely excited.

  The nerves were still there, she could feel them in the butterflies assailing her stomach and in her hot, clammy palms, but it was a different kind of nerves—anticipation rather than dread.

  Over the last few months, she’d grown so much and found a confidence she never thought possible. Others simply believing in her had made her see what it was about herself they believed in. Her family, friends, new found fans, and even Miles at times. Each of them had all given her what she needed to get this far.

  This week had been the hardest of her life—and it had absolutely nothing to do with the final. It was all to do with not getting to see or kiss or touch Miles. Brief phone calls and flirty texts only left her longing for more so she’d avoided them as much as possible. Deep down she knew that he must be falling for her, why else would he worry about her so much? They’d work it out when she won this and they both had some free time.

  Topping up her blusher, she saw the strange beauty in the mirror frown. She missed Miles like mad. After tonight, whatever happened, she was going to be brave and tell him that she loved him. If she won, she’d sing I Will Always Love You for him when she got to sing her winner’s song, but if she didn’t, she’d just have to tell him the old-fashioned way.

  She didn’t even have to worry about winning anymore. Safri had promised she’d manage Anna’s career whatever happened, so now all Anna needed to do was concentrate on enjoying herself. In less than an hour, she’d leave her dressing room, step out onto that stage in front of Miles, her mum, Gran, Jess, and the rest of the UK and sing her heart out without panicking about the consequences.

  A sharp rap at the door brought her out of her reverie and she called, “Come in.”

  Miles entered the room. He was wearing a metallic charcoal suit which was expertly tailored and hung from every muscular angle of his body perfectly. The black silk shirt was open at the neck, giving a glimpse of his recklessly messy side, and a five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw.

  Anna’s gaze crept up that gorgeous face to stare into the bright green eyes which never failed to make her heart kick into beat. When she saw them though, her heart didn’t flutter uselessly, it turned into a hard boulder of dread.

  “Miles, what’s wrong?” She rose from the velvet chair and rushed over to him, cupping his whiskered covered cheeks in her hands.

  Stretching on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his and snaked her hands around his neck. At first, he was unresponsive and the boulder grew heavier in her chest. But after a second, his arms were around her, crushing her body against his, and his mouth opened beneath hers.

  Soon, the boulder was forgotten and the fire at her core raged and burned wildly out of control. She used her hold on the back of his neck to pull him closer still. His hands were in her hair, one knotted her nape and the other gently caressed the back of her head.

  Excited shivers raked through her, and her thrumming heart swelled with love. When they were together like this, when she could tell from his kisses that he was suffering the same desperation to touch her as she was to touch him, she knew what they had was real.

  Her whole future seemed to play across her closed eyelids. One year from now, touring the UK with Miles. Two years and they’d be getting married surrounded by family and friends in a simple, yet intimate ceremony. Perhaps in three years they’d have a child, someone to love as much as she loved Miles.

  He pulled away from her abruptly, taking the dream with him. He held her at arm’s length while they caught their breath. His eyes—though darkened with his desire—were dull and lifeless and full of regret. The spark had vanished and tears clogged her throat. Her heart was once again as heavy as a rock in her chest, but this time she couldn’t speak, only gape at him in terror. Was this it? Were her dreams futile and unobtainable? A moment ago it didn’t feel that way. But now…

  “I’d like to talk to you.” His voice was hard and flat. Emotionless. Salty water blurred her vision and she nodded for him to go on. “I want you to have these.”

  He handed her a manila envelope. She took it and looked back at him with her brows pushed together. What was happening?

  “Open it, Annabelle.”

  She did and as she read the first page her hands began trembling. Was she reading it right? Did he honestly buy her family’s debt? She scanned the rest of the papers, unable to believe it. The whole mortgage, several credit card bills, and a personal loan, all now owned by Miles Oliver.

  She looked back to him, his eyes were hard as flint and his face expressionless. “You bought my family’s debt.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “Why?” She didn’t know whether to feel outraged that he hadn’t told her or elated that he’d cared enough to help her.

  “I promised you that things would work out. I’m keeping that promise.”

  Anna couldn’t hold back any longer, she let the tears spill over her lashes. “Thank you, Miles.” She stepped forward to embrace him again, but he gripped her shoulders with strong hands and held her at arm’s length. “What’s wrong?” she asked again. The boulder was back with a vengeance.

  With dead eyes and a face seemingly carved from stone, he continued. “I will sign everything over to you, I swear I will. All I ask in return is that you leave the show, right now, and go back home.”

  She could feel her mouth drop open with an audible ‘pop’. He was blackmailing her, but she was too stunned by the uncharacteristic move to show the adequate amount of fury she knew she should be feeling. “Why would I do that?” Her whole body was numb, mind included.

  “You can’t do this, Annabelle. You’re not strong enough to handle everything
that goes along with living in the public eye. The article in the paper last week proved that. You need to walk away now while you still can.”

  She studied his face, hoping for some sign that showed he didn’t mean what he was saying. There was nothing. He didn’t see her at all. Didn’t see how much she’d changed. Heck, he didn’t even want her to succeed, was willing to spend hundreds of thousands to make sure she’d leave him and never come back.

  And she—fool that she was—was planning to tell him she loved him.

  Anger boiled her blood and she broke away from his grasp, throwing the papers back at him. She’d never been so furious in her entire life. Not when her dad left her mother broken, alone, and almost bankrupt, not even when Miles had thought she was on drugs.

  Her hand tingled with the desire to smack him across the face, but that would only make him think he’d hurt her. She may have lost him, but she still had her pride.

  How could she be so stupid? He’d not been helping her, he’d been using her for something to do for a few months while he mentored his contestants, and here she was, falling for his bullshit—all the while falling in love with him.

  “Get out.”

  His eyes widened and he stepped toward her.

  “Get out,” she screamed, and he staggered back from the venom in her voice. She couldn’t handle it if he touched her, not when she knew it was a lie.

  “Anna, please,” he begged. His face pleading, but the fact he called her Anna and not Annabelle only further ignited her rage. He didn’t even care enough about her to call her by her full name anymore.

  “I’ll call security,” she threatened, reaching for her phone, not even fazed by the malice in her voice.

  “Please, don’t do this.” He was retreating toward the door, and her hand twitched closer toward the dressing table. It took all of her willpower not to pick up the vase of flowers Safri had bought her and throw it at him. “You won’t be able to handle what comes next.” Anna ignored the desperation in his tone. White hot fury clouded her senses. “You’ll end up dead.”