Page 20 of Now Their Starlet

“See?” Jonathan grunts. “She knows her place.”

He’s not even smug about it. At all. It’s like he expects everyone around him to capitulate to his every whim. Probably because people do. That’s what money, power, and being a ridiculously dominant alpha get you in this kind of industry, where people surround themselves with yes-men.

“You’d best stay in line, boy. This is all to distract from your own scandal.”

I bristle at that comment, things clicking into place. As smart as Gina has shown herself to be, coming up with this master plan to get me under her thumb in every way she can, it didn’t make sense to me when Ezra first mentioned that our parents were going to try to make it appear like we were back together.

It would fuck with my brand even more than it’s already been fucked with and make me seem like some slut bouncing back and forth between Ezra and Beck. I mean, that’s what a good chunk of the internet thinks anyway, considering how quickly after the violent incident at the Grammys I was seen with Beck.

But it does make sense now, if this is what Jonathan Fletcher wants. This would cause quite a stir, and the person who would take the brunt of the social fallout wouldn’t be his son; it would be me.

With the mess of the conservatorship? Hardly anyone will be talking about Ezra, even if the situation directly involves me being seen with him. That’s just how the industry works. If there’s a woman to blame, she will be blamed far more than any man involved.

“Why are we even doing this?” Ezra pushes. Despite the slight waver in his voice, there’s a hardness there as his own espresso scent grows stronger, his dominance coming out to play. He doesn’t stand a chance against his father, not in dominance, power, or influence, but the fact that he’s trying when everyone else in this room is just standing here and watching this go down makes my breath catch in my throat.

“Andi and I aren’t even together anymore,” he continues. “And no one is going to believe we’re just magically back to being a couple after what I did to her. Plus, she’s been pictured happy as a clam, cozied up to the male omega for months.”

Even though it’s a very Ezra-like defense, he’s still defending me. And it’s working. There are people across both his family’s team and my mom’s team that are nodding.

Ezra glances over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting my own. I see a flash of steely determination.

His words from a few days ago come back to me.

You don’t ever need to forgive me. But that doesn’t change that I’m going to try to make up for what I’ve done.

I guess he was serious.

“What if we don’t specify we’re together? Just act like... friends, or something. People will make their own conclusions anyway, but what good will me sticking my tongue down her throat do?” Ezra’s words are crass and abrasive, just like he tends to be, but they strike me mute.

Is he trying to make it so we don’t have to pretend to be together-together? Because I told him I had a pack?

“Ezra has a point, sir,” the Fletcher’s publicist comments, glancing up from his tablet. “Leaving things undefined would cause even more of a stir. We can control the narrative more subtly.”

Jonathan’s jaw works as he glares at his son, obviously not used to being challenged at all, let alone by Ezra with an idea that’s actually solid.

“Fine,” Jonathan bites out, spinning on his heel and heading towards the large pivot doors of floor-to-ceiling glass currently open to the backyard. Gina’s heels click on the hardwood as she follows after him.

The majority of their posse follows along, giving Ezra and I a brief moment of space to breathe.

“Thanks,” I murmur, blinking up at him, my arms still wrapped around my middle. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He runs a hand—trembling from anxiety instead of drugs—through his hair, making it stick up in all directions.

“I kinda did,” he says, blowing out a sharp stream of air that makes his cheeks puff out. “Everyone else was just standing there like NPCs while my dad talked about whether or not you should get a boob job.”

“Can they—can they do things like that?” The thought that it’s even a possibility makes me nauseous.

“I have no idea, but I wouldn’t put it past them.” Ezra’s scowl is dark as he shoots a cutting glare towards the backyard.

“What even is the event we’re supposed to go to tonight? No one’s told me anything other than it’s a charity gala.”

“Yeah, it’s some charity gala for an organ donation non-profit because my dad was in that movie where his character donated his kidney. Good publicity, or whatever.” Ezra rolls his eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t get stuck at the back of his skull.

“Great,” I say, letting out a quiet huff. Looks like everyone’s going to be talking about me and this shitshow of a situation instead of the charity. “I—I meant it, by the way. Thank you. Especially for pushing for us not to be an actual couple.”

Ezra goes quiet at my words, shoving his hands into his pockets and averting his gaze to the floor.

“I’ve heard you loud and clear,” he says, after a beat of silence. “Plus, if I were in your pack’s shoes, I’d wanna kill me if I saw the kinda shit they wanted me to pull with you tonight, and I’d rather stay alive.”