/1/103129/coverbig.jpg?v=7786a6e3202d08d8224e523000bcbb61)
ts that followed was our last; they died in a car crash that night
tart, I took a humiliating job at a high-end nightclub
erence, now engaged to the very woman who destroyed my life. He was even the lawyer fo
ster. He stood by as my world crumbled, choosing
in a desperate attempt at redemption. But it was too late. I had already taken my brother and moved
pte
Cohe
disappear right through the cheap linoleum floor. But I couldn't. Not with Demetri Anderson sitting across from me, hi
trust fund and a future as bright as the California sun. Demetri was my everything, the ambitious law st
ing I' d lost. He was representing the family of a boy my younger broth
dark suit was impeccable, his tie a muted blue, his posture ramrod straight. He exuded an authority that
. "Ms. Cohen, Mr. Anderson." He used formal titles, draw
f papers and glossy photos. My stomach clenche
resenting facts, dates, and injuries with chilling precision. He laid out the case against Bennie, detailing how the vict
heer indignity of facing Demetri like this. I swallowed hard, my voice
or me, were now granite. "Subjective feelings do not obscur
scared. Bennie, slumped in his chair next to me, had his jaw set, his gaze glued
his?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice
pushed back from the table, his chair scraping loudly
ed into my th
on Demetri. "You want to punish me? Go a
the room. The door slammed behin
after him. I caught his arm in the hallway. "W
Isn't that what you're good at?" He jutted his chin out. "Just like you were good at letting them kic
cked out of my lungs. He was right. Thanks to me, we had nothing. But
I stood frozen, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway glaring down on me. When I tur
held no pity, only
ial compensation for Leo's injuries, including medical bills, psychological counseling, and punitive damages for emotional distress. Our current estimate stands at..
rds catching in my throat. "Please, just
If full compensation and a public apology are not received within o
d in horror. "
from the room. He looked up at Demetri, a shy smile on his face. "Thank you, Demet
ing in my gut. Claudia. Demetri's fiancée. My old univers
, a familiar bitterness. I pushed it do
his features. Then his gaze flickered back to me, hardening agai
aimed not just at Bennie, but
mpty. I leaned against the cool wall, the last shred of my co
e ye
reative spirit. And then Demetri came along, a scholarship kid from a working-class background, brilliant and driven. We were
rity and the ease with which I moved through life. She framed me for a sorority hazing incident, a fabricated trauma that painted me as a cruel bully.
the betrayal I'd endured. Distraught, they drove off, still arguing. That night, a drunk driver ran a red light. They wer
moments meant for us alone-and sold them to the tabloids. A desperate, childish act of revenge. I remembered D
treaming down my face. "Because I
arents, distracted and distraught after our fight, gettin
est, trying to get air, trying to break free from the past t
sharp pain was a welcome anchor, pulling me back to the
ne number, a last resort. Caron Wolfe, manager of The Serpent's Kiss, an exclusive Hollywo
hoarse. "I need that job
"Josie. You know the rules here. It's not pretty work
y voice hard. "I need the
f emotion. "Be here tomorrow. And bring

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