Page 110 of False Promises

He leaned over me until his breath mingled with mine and hit the papers with an open palm. “Savannah, your reign of terror is over. Sign the damn papers. Every dotted line.”

Riley jumped in. “You may not know, but we had a lengthy discussion with your parents not so long ago. And they had a lot to say about your antics. Want me to write you a summary?”

I flinched but forced a neutral expression upon my face, not wanting them to see how affected I was. “They’re craving attention. Nothing they say is legitimate.” I shook my head and exhaled my annoyance.

“Did Carter tell you we met with your classmates? Teachers? Principals? Are you telling me all those people are spreading lies?”

I blinked a dozen times, too shocked to reply. They had no right to dig into my past. I thoughts I had covered my tracks well enough. The guy, whom I paid with some filthy sex, promised me no one would ever find out about it.

Riley continued, “Two can play this little game. You’re done pulling all the strings. See, we’re a team, and you’re not equipped to play dirty anymore. Speak one word against us, Carter especially, and we will put all the evidence we have gathered in these three weeks on display to the media. You will be finished. Say goodbye to Hollywood. No one will touch you with a barge pole once we get through you.”

I steeled my posture, trying to inject myself with confidence. “Are you blackmailing me? Because it’s a serious offense and you could get arrested for it.”

“Do you want me to bring you a mirror? The one in the bedroom that cost me a fortune?” Carter taunted. “One last look at yourself before it’s gone? My treat.”

I remained mute. I was outnumbered.

“That’s what I thought.” His tone turned glacial when he pointed to the bottom of the first page with his finger. “Sign here.”

“What does this even say? You didn’t give me enough time to read it.”

“A contract,” Riley said. “If you speak about our visit today or our little chat, then you’re in breach of contract. And in this case, along with our exposé on the media, it will cost you a lot of money.”

Swallowing the bile down my throat, I executed myself. I felt attacked. Pressured to comply. Like thieves holding me hostage at gunpoint.

He flipped the page. “Here. To attest that if you spread rumors or lies about anyone in Carter’s entourage, you’ll get sued.”

“I’m not the bad guy here.” My pleas weren’t heard. They had all decided to break me. How couldn’t they see I was the victim? Did they believe Carter because he was a man? Had more contacts than I did? Was wealthier than me? My women’s rights were trifled with. Any judge would recognize it. These men were stealing my voice. I steeled my back and met their gazes. “I see what you’re doing. Muzzling a woman for your own benefit.”

Riley ignored my pleading.

“Sign. Here.” Taylor’s voice reverberated through me, and I couldn’t breathe. “Do what he said.” He resembled a fucking giant on steroids and could probably crush me with just his thumb if he put his mind to it. Not a theory I was willing to test.

With a trembling hand, I signed on the line.

“And finally, here.” Riley pointed to another page. “If you ever try to get any money from Carter for any reason, you’ll get sued. This states that you’re a lying sociopath and nothing you say is true.”

“What? You can’t?”

“Sure, I can. You picked the wrong target, missy. You should have done your homework first before digging your claws into Carter Hills. And please stop spreading rumors.”

I signed the last page.

“Can I get a copy?” I asked, barely able to contain the tremors in my voice as Riley slid the document back into the inner pocket of his jacket.

He shook his head. “No, because you’d be in breach of the first term of this contract. That you can’t tell anyone about our visit today. Have a great day.” He winked and left the apartment.

Carter bent next to me, his hands splayed on the table, his mouth so close to my ear, I shivered. “Have a good life. And stay away from mine. Keep your psycho ways far from me, or we’ll have a problem.”

When he moved back, I jumped to my feet and tried to bury myself in his chest in one last attempt to get him to realize he was making a huge mistake.

Taylor positioned himself between us. “Step back from my client.”

“Carter,” I pleaded.

“Goodbye, Savannah.” Like his manager did minutes ago, he spun on his heels, grabbed one of the suitcases, a duffel bag, and his guitar case, and slipped through the door.

Taylor didn’t budge from his stand on my right.