Grace replied, "I don't need your compliments."

Under the influence of alcohol, Assistant Director Curtis lunged at Grace and slapped her across the face. "If I want you to drink, you will drink!" he shouted. "Why are you acting so high and mighty? You're just a failure—a fucking convict!" He grabbed her roughly by the jaw. In an instant, he had a bottle of alcohol and was pouring it down her throat.

Grace struggled, but a man's strength far exceeded hers, especially with Evelyn assisting him. Her sister held Grace's arms; she could only jerk and fight back the choking sensation.

Curtis paused only to thank Evelyn. "You're still smart," he said. "I'll talk to the writers and get you more screen time."

Evelyn readily obliged. "Thank you, Assistant Director. My sister isn't smart, so please be understanding."

Grace didn't know how much alcohol she'd been forced to drink. Her tolerance was low, and she already felt intoxicated. She clung to the last vestiges of sobriety. "I I want to go back"

"Alright, I'll take you back in a moment." He relented only when Grace stumbled.

Her vision swam, but she saw the heated look in his eyes and began planning her escape. Curtis admired the bright red handprint on her face. He didn't find her sexually attractive—too thin and plain; he preferred women with larger breasts and hips. But knowing she'd been Sean Steven's girlfriend excited him. He wouldn't mind sleeping with the same woman as one of the city's wealthiest men. He imagined it would be "prime pussy."

His cell phone rang repeatedly. He silenced it, but it rang again. He checked the caller ID: his brother, the Head Director, the man who'd helped him get his position. He couldn't imagine why he was calling.

But after answering and listening to his brother's furious yelling, Curtis felt as if he'd suddenly sobered up. His face paled, and his breathing quickened.

"How how could it be? She's just a sanitation worker with no background. Even if her former boyfriend was Sean Stevens—who has a fiancée now—there's no reason for him to care about her. Why would his ex-girlfriend be cleaning garbage?"

"Don't you dare touch this woman!" his brother roared. "Let her leave safely. The company boss himself called and warned me. He said if anything happened to her tonight, the entire crew would be dismissed tomorrow, and you'd be run out of this city."

"What!?"

"Are you deaf? They threatened us explicitly!"

Curtis's hand shook. "How is that possible? Hundreds of millions of dollars invested? Dismissed?" He glanced at Grace. "Who the hell is this woman?"

"How would I know? Either way, you made this mess. If you touch a hair on her head, I'll deal with you!" His brother continued his tirade. "How is she now? She's fine, right?"

Curtis wanted to cry, but no tears came. He didn't dare admit he'd slapped Grace and forced her to drink more than half a bottle of wine, that he'd been about to rape her.

Grace staggered to the private room door and went out. Evelyn tried to stop her, eager to sacrifice her sister for fame.

Curtis grabbed Evelyn's arm, spun her around, and slapped her. She stumbled. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this mess!"

He watched Grace stumble away. Evelyn cried, clutching her cheek. "Assistant Director Curtis, what are you?"

"Are you trying to set me up? Who is your sister? Who's behind her?" he demanded.

Evelyn looked blank. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! My sister has no one. Not even her family…"

Grace staggered down the hallway. The alcohol made her feel lightheaded, her vision blurring. "I have to go back…" she muttered. "I'll be in danger if I pass out outside!"

She willed herself home, but her body felt out of control. A blurry figure appeared, familiar and reassuring. As long as he was there, she'd be safe.

She walked toward him, finally reaching him outside. The cold air sharpened her senses before everything spun.

"Jay?"

She looked up. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she fell.

He caught her. Jason stared at her bruised cheeks, his fingers gently tracing the slap marks. His jaw clenched, his fist tightening.

"Mr. Reed!" Terrence put away his phone. "Miss Cummins was forced to drink and slapped."

"Break the hand of the person who hit her," Jason said, scooping Grace into his arms and carrying her to the limousine.

Terrence was shocked. "Sir, are you sure?" Mr. Reed had done nothing after his fiancée's death, but now, with this perpetratorhe wanted to protect this woman?

In the car, Jason stared at the marks on her face. He noticed a second, fainter bruise. She was just a toy to him, yet her injuries upset him. Was it pity? When had he ever felt pity?

Grace woke in her apartment, seeing a familiar face.

"Jay!" she sat up, her head throbbing. She breathed deeply, waiting for the pain to subside. "How… how did I get back here? I was at that private club…" The events replayed in her mind, darkening her expression.

"I saw you leaving the club, so I brought you back," Jason said.

"But I didn't tell you I went there."

"I heard the address when you were on the phone," he replied. "Would you like some water?"

He handed her a glass. She drank and felt better.

"I didn't do anything strange while I was drunk, did I?" she asked anxiously.