Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(96)
Kent stops chewing and stares at her. Then, he frowns. “Um . . . okay. Let me think about this for a second.” He swallows. “No. Next topic of conversation.”
Liam takes a step toward him, but I grab his arm. He jabs a finger at Kent. “We’re not your puppets, you piece of shit.”
“Yes you are,” Kent says, infuriatingly calm. “And you’ll dance until I tell you to stop or I’ll make sure you never work again. I made you and Angel stars. Me. You’d both still be doing soda commercials if I hadn’t come along.”
“And we’re super-grateful, Anthony,” Angel says, matching his snarky tone. “But we made you, too. You’ve gotten very rich by exploiting us, so forgive me if I don’t feel bad for telling you to go fuck yourself. You’re fired.”
Liam crosses his arms over his chest. “After today, we never want to see you again.”
Kent laughs. Actually laughs, like he’s having a good time. “I’m not sure how else to say this to get it through your thick heads. No, you’re not firing me. No, you’re not breaking up. No, to all of it. Capital N. Capital O. I’d write it down, but Liam wouldn’t be able to read it.”
Everyone in the room tenses, and Josh has to physically restrain Liam, who snarls at Kent, “You prick!”
I stand in front of Liam to calm him down, but really, I’d like nothing more than to watch him smash his fist into Kent’s bastard face.
Instead, I take a deep breath and plaster on a smile.
“Okay, Anthony, so, this is how it’s going to work. Either Angeliam breaks up tonight in an exclusive heartbreaking interview with Tori Bell, or we give her this.”
I press a button on my laptop, and a film clip starts. Kent isn’t the only one who can create fake news reports.
“Hollywood is reeling tonight amid allegations that high-powered Hollywood agent Anthony Kent has been demanding sexual favors from his famous clients. After revealing photos emerged of Kent in a clandestine clinch with megastar Angel Bell, a Hollywood insider has revealed that Kent is well-known for using his professional influence to manipulate young actresses into fulfilling his voracious sexual appetite.”
Pictures come up on the screen showing Anthony and Angel in what seems like an intimate embrace. One of his hands is on the back of her head, and the other is grasping her breast. The expression on Angel’s face suggests she’s not enjoying it. More photos appear, and in each one Kent appears more aggressive.
“The high-profile agent was caught cornering Miss Bell on the opening night of her Broadway debut, despite Bell’s fiancée being only yards away. The photographer who took the pictures said Kent physically intimidated the actress before pawing her roughly. After several tense minutes, he let Bell go, and she quickly escaped to take her place back on the red carpet. If these allegations turn out to be true, Kent could be blacklisted by his big-name female stars, as well as being liable for various criminal charges.”
When I turn to glance at Kent, I’m thrilled to see he’s gone as white as a sheet.
“This is bullshit,” he says. “I was helping fix her dress. Nothing more.”
I pause the clip on a particularly incriminating shot in which it seems as though he’s tugging Angel’s head back and kissing her throat. “As some wise man once told me, it doesn’t matter how things are, just how they seem. How do you think people are going to perceive you after this?”
Kent exhales and runs his fingers through his hair. His face has gone from ghost-white to completely red, and for the first time since I’ve met him, his composure has slipped.
“Of course,” Liam says with a smirk, “you can still walk away with zero consequences if you agree to kill our PR contract. Simple.”
Kent stares daggers at him. “You wouldn’t dare release this. If you did, I’d tell the world you’ve been lying to them for years about your relationship with Angel. You’d be blacklisted. No agent would touch you.”
Liam gives him an incredulous smile. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there are many, many people in Hollywood who hate your guts. A lot of them are fellow agents. I’m sure if Angel and I offered to sign with them in the process of taking you down, they’d throw us a damn parade.”
I can see Kent’s gears spinning. He’s used to being the smartest one in the room. The one holding all the cards.
Well, you’ve just been trumped, bitch.
“In tonight’s interview,” Liam says patiently, “Angeliam is breaking up, one way or the other. You get to choose if we go out quietly, respecting our fans as best we can, or if we drop a giant shitbomb that will take you down in the messiest way possible. Your call.”
“What if my business partners won’t agree to void the contract?”
“They will. You’ve told me for years that you’re the best negotiator in the business. Convince them it’s in their best interests to drop it.”
Angel steps forward. “Either way, better get them on the phone. You’re running out of time. Tori needs to be briefed on what we’re saying in tonight’s interview, and trust me when I say my sister does not like to be kept waiting.”
Kent glares at each of us before picking up his phone and jabbing some buttons. “It’s Kent. Get me Davis.” He stands and heads toward the door. “I don’t care if he’s sucking the president’s balls. Get him on the damn phone. Now!”