Page 1 of Vendetta Vows

1

AURORA

I shouldn't be readingthis.

The script sits heavy in my hands, its pages dog-eared from multiple revisions over the past week.

I'm supposed to be inside the private launch party, making nice with producers and helping keep an eye on the prop department's weapons. Instead, I'm hiding on the back stoop and dissecting this ridiculous screenplay I swiped earlier tonight.

"And then Isabella throws herself into Marco's arms, trusting him completely," I read. "Am I the only one who still remembers that he's the mob boss who killed her father?"

I flip another page and groan. I'm not even halfway through this disaster of a script.

Seven years working in movie props has taught me that Hollywood romanticizes organized crime. But this one takes the cake.

These writers have never seen what real violence looks like.

Not like me.

"No woman is this stupid," I mutter to no-one in particular. "Scratch that. Nopersonis this?—"

An unexpected gust of Santa Ana winds tears through the alley, and flips my skirt up. I quickly reach down to hide my modesty.

And in the process, let go of the script.

Pages flap like startled birds and go scattering in every direction.

"No, no, no!"

I scramble to my feet, lunging desperately after the airborne pages.

If anyone catches me with this—especially before official distribution—I'll be fired. The title page flutters just beyond my fingertips. I lunge, making a desperate grab?—

And slam face-first into something solid.

Not something. Someone.

Strong hands grip my shoulders, steadying me. I look up and freeze when I find myself staring up into a pair of striking gold eyes.

"I—" My voice fails me and my cheeks burn as my brain catches up to the fact that I've just face-planted into what might be the most well-defined chest in all of Southern California.

The man gives me a steadying smile that has my heart skipping a beat. "You seem to be in a rush."

His voice is like warm honey with just the slightest accent I can't place, and an unexpected shiver runs down my spine.

Stop it, Aurora. This is exactly what you were just mocking.

"I shouldn't even have this," I blurt out, gesturing wildly at the pages still escaping down the alley. "And if anyone finds out..."

"You'll get in trouble?"

"That's putting it mildly."

Without hesitation, he releases me and crouches to snag a page trying to hide under a nearby dumpster. "So what is this? Industrial espionage? Corporate theft? Unlawful business practice?"

A surprised laugh escapes me. "Just a script I'm not supposed to have."

"So all of the above." His eyes sparkle as he hands me the rescued page. "In this town at least."

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