Page 123 of Unleashed By Eden

“Yeah,” I say, already sliding over my card. I jerk a thumb at my security. “This guy gives it away every time.”

He laughs, dazed. I snatch the bag, toss him a quick thanks, and bolt back to the SUV.

“Step on it,” I tell the driver.

I’m slammed back into the seat as we shoot into traffic again.

At the private hangar, I throw the door wide open and head straight for the stairs of the jet, already lowered and waiting.

As soon as I’m on board, I cut through to the cockpit and lean in.

“I want to be in Sydney in sixteen hours,” I tell the pilot, even though we both know it takes closer to twenty.

He cuts a look at his co-pilot, then glances back at me. Whatever he sees on my face has him straightening in his seat.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” I squeeze his shoulder, then head to the lounge, sinking into one of the leather seats.

I try Vi again and get the same flat, automated voice.

It doesn’t make a difference. In sixteen hours, she’ll be in my arms.

For the first time in my life, flying into Sydney feels like going home instead of walking into Hades.

Chapter thirty-five

Violet

So much for being a tough bitch.

Turns out, I’ve morphed into the cliché of a heartbroken girl: full tragic arc, two feet in.

I’ve discovered I’m the kind of bitch who lives on salt-and-vinegar chips and lets Netflix auto-play comfort movies while she rots into the couch. I haven’t even had the balls to turn on my phone and see what fresh hell has unfolded—between Carter, Liam, PrimeTime+, and the internet, my notifications must be blowing up.

I keep telling myself I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

I crunch on another chip and watch as Edward flies Bella through the trees. Again.

Being Vega Wolfe is officially over.

Being Violet feels pretty shaky too, at the moment.

I should probably be thinking about how I’m going to pay my bills. Eden is there, but that was always the fallback, never the main act. Outside of photography, I don’t know what I’m good at. I don’t have ten hidden talents and a backup dream. There is one thing I love, and right now, it’s been ripped out of my hands and paraded across the tabloids like a cautionary tale.

Cool. Amazing. Love that for me.

Bang. Bang.

I flinch at the heavy knocking on my door. Has a pap found me already?

“GO AWAY!” I yell, not moving.

Bang-bang-bang-bang.

I peel myself off the couch, drop the bag of chips onto the coffee table, and wipe the salt off my fingers.

“FUCK’S SAKE, I SAID GO AWAY!” I shout, stomping toward the door.