Page 26 of Saving Saul

As of this morning, I own a significant number of shares in the studio that produces Love, Unmasked.

Gavin won’t have a job by next week.

He’s lucky to have a life.

I’ve ordered Tessa and cut from the season’s episodes early. If everything goes according to plan, that reveal day will never see the light of day. My sweetheart will not become a meme.

I still monitor Tessa, shadowing her every move like a silent sentinel. Of course, she still has no idea, but I’ve entrenched myself into every corner of her life. My obsession isn’t just about protecting her; it’s about ensuring her every step is cushioned, every obstacle smoothed, every dream within reach—even if I can only watch from a distance.

That lease on the perfect commercial space for her catering business? Itjust happenedto come down in price at the right moment. The sudden influx of high-end clients who can’t stop raving about her food? Theyjusthappenedto hear glowing recommendations from well-placed whispers I orchestrated.

Every victory she’s had—every step she’s taken closer to her dreams—has my fingerprints all over it. I’ve woven myself into her success, ensuring her life and happiness are as effortless as possible. Every time she smiles, it feels like I’ve won a battle. Every time she laughs, it’s like I’ve stolen fire from the gods and handed it to her on a silver platter.

And yet, it’s never enough.

The ache of not being beside her is a constant, gnawing hunger. She deserves the world; I’ve been building it for her, piece by piece. But there’s a part of me that can’t rest until she’s mine again—until she thinks of me with the same fire and love she once did.

When the time is right and the pieces are perfectly aligned, she’ll know the truth: every good or extraordinary thing that happened to her over the past few months has been my doing because I love her and never want to leave her again.

Once I’m convinced there will be no formal or informal investigation into Patrick’s disappearance or that any investigation is sufficiently cold, I’ll slowly integrate myself back into the public and her life.

I’ve tried keeping a low profile, and Cecil initially let me do that. When the show releases in three months, I plan to already be balls deep into Tessa with my ring on her finger.

We may be cut from the show, but with social media, leaks happen. So, I’d like to keep my risk low. Cecil, however, doesn’t care about my risk tolerance; once he realized I had a brain in my head, the ability to cook, and that women spent more when I was serving them, he made me come out of my shell and declared me his star attraction.

“Okay, but Cecil, I’m not trying to be up there all night. What time should I announce the winners, and what do they win?”

“A thousand dollars a piece! We’re announcing two winners at eleven thirty. You must announce the best character likeness and the sexiest female.”

I roll my eyes, grab one of the chicken bites I just prepared off the counter, and pop it in my mouth. I haven’t eaten all day, and it’s starting to catch up to me. “ What does sex have to do with a British Comic Con?”

Cecil snorts. “Stop being an idiot, and come on. I want to show you which room you’ll be in for the party.”

He leads me out of the kitchen and into the thick of tonight’s party. Metropolitan Room One is always the busiest. It has two high-volume bars with about seven to eight bartenders each. Crossing the floor to the stage, I try not to touch anyone. Women stop and throw me looks, but I ignore them because I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.

Cecil turns and notices me silently rebuffing a half-dressed woman, and he shakes his head.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re celibate or something, boy, with all this good ass you throw away. If I had your looks, I'd have a different woman in my bed every night.”

I get closer to him and snicker. “You don’t have my looks, and you still have a different woman in your bed every night.”

He slaps my back and laughs. “True, but don’t you have needs? Don’t you miss pussy?”

I only miss my woman.

A woman I had every intention of marrying —I still do—she’s my soul mate.But I couldn't let Patrick get near my little sister or my grandmother; I knew he'd ruin their lives or do even worse to my grandmother.

But one thing's sure: he'll never hit another woman again.

“Marcus!” Cecil’s voice snaps me back to the present. I straighten and grab a drink from a nearby tray called The British Invasion, a sickly-sweet concoction.One sip, and I spit it back out.

“You’re lucky I like whiskey,” I mutter, knocking back the rest. I’ll need it to survive Cecil’s antics.

One thought takes hold as I approach the kitchen, dodging glances from women on the floor.

Tessa. I’ll make it right—one day.

For now, there are mozzarella sticks to fry.

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