He stops in front of me, inches away. I force myself not to back up.
He grins suddenly. “You need the money? You should’ve kept King around after all.”
“Do I look like I need money?” I glance back toward the sports car I rented. “I’ve always had a soft spot for this place.”
Mischa prowls around me. “Personal memories?”
I think of dancing here with Harrison, him kissing me for the first time. But I say, “This is the biggest gig there is. I fucking want it.”
His rasp of laughter scrapes over my skin. “And you will do me a favor by playing here?”
I hold up my phone. “After my interview, you had three hundred comments in an hour asking when I’m playing. By tonight, you’ll have a thousand.”
“I don’t like people forcing my hand.”
“Really? I think you do.”
“Are you almost finished?” a feminine voice calls from behind me.
I turn to see a familiar blond woman emerge from the same hallway Mischa did.
“We haven’t formally met.” She wears a smile that’s bigger than her companion’s but no warmer. A thin veneer of cordiality sheathing a viper’s fangs. “I’m Eva.”
“Raegan.”
“I thought it was Tiny Princess?”
“Little Queen,” I correct.
The smile is still in place. “I suppose we have something in common now.”
I survey her form in surprise.
“We both survived Harrison King.” She holds out a hand. “There’s hope for you yet.”
Her huge diamond blinks in the light.
“Congratulations. Is this new?”
“Just this week,” she confirms. “I trust you haven’t seen Harrison in some time?”
I shrug. “Why would I?” It’s a bad idea to let on that we’ve been talking. Or fucking. Mischa might misconstrue that as us getting back together, which would mean my loyalties might have shifted.
“But you’ve seen his brother. You went to an event together.”
I turn to face Eva, new wariness setting up in my gut.
“I saw Sebastian recently in London too. A few months ago. He joined some friends in a VIP room.”
The pieces click into place.
This bitch is what Ash wanted to keep from Harrison. She pushed the drugs on Ash.
“Sounds like a party,” I say, matching my smile to hers.
“Too bad you missed it.”
My pulse is heavy against my ribs, either from the thrill of this place or my hatred of these people. “What would be too bad is you missing out on me playing here.”