Chapter 7

Jaxon' s statement was a death sentence. It confirmed every lie, every vicious rumor. The faceless mob of the internet turned on me with a vengeance. I was no longer just a plagiarist; I was a stalker, a mentally unstable ex, a villainess in Krystal' s tragic fairy tale.

I found him later that day at his office. I pushed past his secretary, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Did you give it to her?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "My music. Did you give her my work?"

He didn' t deny it. "Krystal heard it and was inspired. She didn' t mean to release it. It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" I cried. "Jaxon, this will ruin me! Juilliard, my career... it will all be gone! This will be a stain on my name forever!"

"You don' t need a career, Alina," he said, his tone dismissive. "I' ll take care of you. I' ll give you anything you want."

His condescension was suffocating. He looked at his watch, impatient. "Look, Krystal already feels terrible about this. Just let it go. It' s not a big deal."

Not a big deal. My entire future, my passion, my one remaining piece of identity, was not a big deal.

I stared at him, at this man I once loved, and for the first time, I felt a flicker of pure, unadulterated hatred. He wasn' t the man I fell in love with. Maybe that man never existed at all.

I went back to my small, temporary apartment and started packing. My flight was booked for the day after my father' s anniversary. I was done.

Jaxon burst through my door that evening without knocking, his face a mask of fury.

"Where is she?" he roared.

I flinched. "Who?"

"Krystal! She' s been kidnapped! The kidnappers sent me a message. They want her to publicly admit she didn' t plagiarize you, or they' ll kill her!" He grabbed my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin. "Stop this, Alina! I told you to let it go!"

My voice trembled. "You think... you think I did this?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Jaxon, I don' t have the money or the power to kidnap anyone!" I pleaded.

He just stared at me, his eyes filled with suspicion and disappointment. "Just tell me where she is, Alina. We don' t have to make this ugly."

The words were a physical blow. He believed I was capable of this. He believed Krystal' s obvious, theatrical lies over me.

Time ticked by. His phone rang again and again. His patience wore thin.

"Fine," he snarled, shoving me away from him so hard I stumbled and hit the wall. "You care more about some stupid song than a person' s life."

My life hadn' t mattered when his wife' s dog was mauling my arm. My career hadn' t mattered when she stole my work. Now my integrity didn' t matter. Only Krystal mattered.

His phone buzzed. He answered it, listened for a moment, and his eyes went hard. "They found her."

He looked at me, his gaze sweeping over my face with a terrifying coldness. "You' ve changed, Alina. I don' t even know who you are anymore."

He turned and walked out, not looking back.

I slid down the wall, my legs giving out. I stared at his retreating back, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. I' m the one who changed?

A wave of nausea rose in my throat, and I doubled over, coughing up a mouthful of blood. The stress, the pain, the betrayals... they were literally killing me.

How much did he love her, to be so blind? How much did he have to love her, to destroy me for her?