Page 44 of Man of the Year

You are a liar. Your past is full of shameful secrets. Everything is spiraling out of control. That’s what lies do—they infect, fester, and then come to the surface.

When I’m done with you, you’ll be just one more checkmark for me and another case for the police.

You wanted to shine, Mr. Rosenberg? Well, I’ll make you burn.

THIRTY-THREE

NATALIE

Julien runs past Dave and me like a rocket and disappears into the library.

More shouting follows from there, then the sound of smashed glass. I hear fast-approaching footsteps, and another security guard, Steve, comes running and disappears into the library too.

Oh my god, this is an emergency! Something is going down, and there’s nothing I can do. I crane my neck toward the library, but Dave steps sideways to block the view.

“Go. Away,” he hisses.

I turn on my heel and run to the kitchen where Rosalie is pouring purple drinks into champagne flutes.

“Rosalie!” I shout. “Something’s happening in the library.”

Without stopping what she is doing, she looks at me from under her brows. “What’s happening?”

“Both security guys are there. Julien. Nick. There was a gunshot, I swear,” I blurt as fast as I can. “Someone is fighting in the library. Rosenberg is there.”

She doesn’t even flinch at my words. “Natalie, mind your own business,” she says calmly. “Here.” She passes me a new tray of drinks. “Terrace. Now. You have a job to do.”

Argh!I’m practically steaming with fury.

“Really?” I snap at her. “I just told you that Rosenberg is with a young girl, there was a gunshot, and?—”

“Now!” she barks, glaring at me. “You want to get paid, don’t you?”

“Fine!” I grab the tray and stomp out of the kitchen and into the hallway, but then I stop and turn in the direction of the library.

Low moans come from behind the library door. They are barely audible, and one would’ve missed them if they weren’t listening. But there’s no one around but me and Dave farther down the hallway, like a statue, his stare trained on me from the distance.

“You imbeciles!” comes Rosenberg’s roar from behind the library door. “You don’t know what’s going on!”

There is the sound of a struggle, but that’s not what petrifies me. With all those voices, there’s not a peep from the girl.

I’m panting, thinking about what to do.

Suddenly, the library door swings open, and three figures stumble out. I step back to hide behind the corner and peek out.

It’s dark, but I can see Steve, who has Rosenberg in a headlock. My eyes widen as Rosenberg is led, like he’s arrested, toward the living room and up the main stairs. Nick hurries after them. Rosenberg is hissing out curses and making angry animal sounds. Dave, the other security guy, observes them calmly, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Again, Rosenberg is not my concern right now. The girl is. What did he do to her? Why isn’t she running out of the library? And if I haven’t missed anything, Julien is still in the library with her.

Dave presses his finger to his earpiece, listening, then speaks into the mic, “Unconscious? Drunk? Yes, I’ll get a car.”

The words make my head spin.

The girl can’t be unconscious. I observed her on the terrace. She barely drank. She was more or less sober when she walked to the library. It’s been less than an hour. She can’t be drunk!

That’s when I know—this is serious. As serious as Cara, and Darla, and probably many before them.

If I’m not mistaken, this is a cover-up.

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