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Go to your happy place. Stars. Mountains. Quiet. Trees.

Now breathe.

“Arianna. Are you listening?”

“I can’t do it. These threats. . .”

“Look, darling,” he said condescendingly. She hated when he talked to her like that. Like she was an idiot. As though he thought he was charming, and she’d fall to the floor and kiss his feet.

Never gonna happen, Larry.

“You need to calm down. I know these threats seem scary. But it comes with the territory. You’ve gotten threats in the past and nothing ever came from them.”

But how had this person gotten her home address? All correspondence went to a private box and was collected by Larry’s assistant. How had they managed to slip these threatening letters under her damn door?

“Arianna! Have you been taking your pills?”

She glared at him. Asshole. “My medication is none of your business, Larry.”

She hadn’t been taking those pills for months. She didn’t like the way they made her feel. Like she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t even entirely sure she needed them. Her parents had forced her to go to that creepy Doctor Jones. She was certain he was medicating her unnecessarily. She had her panic attacks under control.

Well, as long as someone wasn’t sending her threatening letters. But that would make most people panic, right?

“It is if you’re not taking care of yourself. I care about you, Arianna.”

Urgh. Total sleaze. And he didn’t care about her. He cared about money. He wanted her docile. When she took those pills, she didn’t get nervous when she performed. But she also couldn’t feel the music, couldn’t create. Oh, she could still sing. But it was other people’s lyrics.

She wanted to sing her own music. But Larry always vetoed that.

“Larry, these threats are real. Shouldn??t we go to the police?”

He narrowed his gaze. “The police! For a few letters? They’d laugh at us. We don’t need to call in the cops for another hoax. You cannot let a couple of threats stop you from doing this concert!”

He was probably right. She was being weak. She was scared.

He leaned his fists on the desk between them, looming over her. She hated when he did that.

“Do I need to speak to your parents about this? They could fly in. Be moral support.”

She flinched. Christ, twenty-six years old and still worried about what her parents thought. What they might do.

Stop embarrassing us, Arianna.

Just talk, Arianna. Stop crying, you’re not a baby.

Why can’t you be normal?

Christ. She shook off those memories. “No.”

“Good. Look, if you’re that worried, let me hire you a bodyguard.”

“No.”

His gaze narrowed and she tensed.

“Then buck up, Arianna. You don’t have time to fall apart. That sort of selfish indulgence is for artists who are already set for life. This concert might be for charity, but it will bring in a lot of publicity for your last album. You need to start working and stop looking for excuses to get out of your obligations. You’re doing the concert!”

He stormed out and the door slammed shut behind him.


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