Page 176 of Alphas Like Us
I can ruinhim.
But I’m not sure that’d erase this slithering feeling that tries to worm its way inside ofme.
“I didn’t take the photos myself,” Ace clarifies. “A dronedid.”
A drone.I didn’t see one in the air. Neither did Farrow, who’s vigilant about these things. We missed it, and we’re usually careful. We think of everything, but the one time where we both wanted to feelfree…
It was arisk.
I think we both knew itwas.
Ace unbuttons his suit jacket, hot and uncomfortable. “But I have thephotos.”
“Then show us them,” Farrow sayscoldly.
Ace takes out his phone and pops up apicture.
I see Farrow kissing me on the sundeck, his ass completely exposed, but I’m covered, pressed against his body. Ace swipes up. The next photo is just of me. Walking towards thepool.
It’s fullfrontal.
Farrow decks Ace in the face with skilled, enraged force, a massive amount of power going into that single blow. And I hear a sickeningcrackin his cheekbone, and the porn star hits the stoneporch.
My pulse jackhammers—I was about to swing at Ace, but Farrow beat me to it and now that it’s done, all I want to do is get this goddamn camera crew out ofhere.
“Leave,” I growl at them while Ace stays on the ground, moaning inpain.
A hipster-looking guy with a handlebar mustache holds out his hand. “Wait, we only want to leak a couple of these photos with your permission. We can even pick the tame ones foryou.”
“What?” I breathe hard, confused asfuck.
Farrow grips the edge of the door. Seconds from smashing it in theirface.
“You both get to be in the press,” he explains. “It’ll increase your social media following, and in exchange, you’ll drop some hints on an Instagram Live or two about Sensual Flixxxs. How it’s your favorite website. It’s good marketing and a win-win for all ofus.”
What thehell…
“Get the fuck out,” Farrow says through gritted teeth, “or you’ll join your friend on the fuckingground—”
“We could film a chaste kissing scene,” he adds quickly, taking a step back. Afraid of Farrow. “No sex or penetration. We’ve got the crew here. We could do it right now. We’ll pay you twenty million.” His gaze swerves to Farrow at the talk of money. Like he knows that’d be hisincentive.
Fuckhim.
Fuckthis.
Farrow lets go of the door, about to throw another knockout punch. But I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from starting a drag-out fight with five men. Doing what he’d do forme.
And then an SUV slams to a stop onto the pebbled path. We both gostill.
“It’s not a bad offer,” the hipster tells us, but we’re looking behind him. “Other celebrities would have takenit.”
“Redford!” Oscar yells from the car. His curly hair blows in the wind. He’s the only guy here from SFO. Bruno and the rest from SFA file in and close around the cameracrew.
“Confiscate their phones,” Farrow tells security before the words leave my mouth, and I watch six bodyguards all descend upon the trespassers to protectus.
“We’re leaving,” Ace chokes out, picking himself up. His hand to his face. “We’releaving.”
“You’re not leaving,” Farrow sneers. “I already gave you that chance. Now you’re going to stay until we’ve—they’vecombed through yourequipment.”
