Page 17 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

"He's five, Marcus. That's what kids do. That's how they figure out who they are."

"Exactly. The right time to build proper habits." He straightens his tie. "Trinity's headmaster mentioned their junior orchestra program. Very selective. Very... appropriate influences."

Ollie's drawing forgotten, he tugs on Marcus’ sleeve. "But Daddy, all my friends don't go to that school."

"That's enough." Marcus's voice carries an edge I've never heard before. Ollie shrinks back against me.

"Okay." I gather Ollie close. "I think it's time to go home."

"The Trinity discussion isn't over."

"It is for tonight." I scoop up Ollie's backpack. "Say goodbye to Daddy. Tell him you will see him on Sunday."

As we walk toward the subway, Ollie's small hand in mine, I can't shake the feeling that something's shifted. Marcus has always been controlling, but this feels different. Like he's not just trying to control our present anymore.

SIX

Callum

In every song, in every face

Friday, March 7

Love Studios NYC

545 8th Avenue, Midtown

3:51 PM

"Look mysterious."The photographer circles me like a shark. "No, more than mysterious. Like you're keeping secrets."

If he only knew. I shift against the exposed brick wall, trying to look broody while checking my phone for the hundredth time. Emma's latestInstagrampost shows student artwork. No location tag, but the window in the background overlooks Chinatown streets.

"Cal." Luke's warning tone carries across the studio. "Phone."

The photographer sighs. Another flash blinds me.

"That's the fifth time in twenty minutes." Luke appears at my shoulder, coffee in hand. "The Timesinterview is waiting, andRolling Stonewants to shoot the cover next week."

"I know."

A notification pops up. It’s a Pinnacle PR email about upcoming appearances. Not what I'm looking for. Then my phone rings. It’s Ethan.

"You're supposed to be focusing on the album." Luke keeps his voice low. "Our lawyers are still reviewing that Nashville contract. Until we know if Morrison can claim rights to everything you'll ever write?—"

"I get it." I do get it. Morrison wants half of what Pinnacle's paying me, or he'll try to blow up the whole deal. Prove he owns my entire catalog—past, present, and future. "I’m just stuck on seeing Sienna. Something feels off and I want to know why she’s in New York."

"Right now, the only thing that needs to add up is this album." Luke takes my phone. "We need you focused on recording, not hunting down old girlfriends for answers about things that don’t matter."

"One more set." The photographer adjusts his lens. "Think James Dean meets Kurt Cobain."

I run a hand through my newly styled hair. The label's image team darkened it even more last week and said it photographed better. Everything about me is being tweaked, polished, and packaged.

My phone vibrates in my pocket again. I'm clearly obsessed and annoying myself, but I can't help but look. This time it's a text from my brother, Ethan.

Talked to Dave Sullivan at Cooper & Ross. Entertainment law isn't his specialty, but he's got contacts in NYC. Says Morrison's contract might be vulnerable if we can prove predatory intent. Call me.

I look at Luke, grateful to have something to tell him other than my sleuthing. "It's Ethan. He has another attorney he wants us to talk to about Morrison."

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