Sinful Lies (Sinful #2)

Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

“Never trust anything that a man will not set his reputation and name upon.”

― Jeff Grubb

Angelo

“ ... The thirty-three-year-old actress was found dead in her apartment this morning. Authorities are claiming that the Broadway star and Tony Award winner, half-American, half-French, shot herself at approximately two a.m. this morning. Residues of cocaine and ecstasy were found in her blood, and doctors confirm that the star had been diagnosed with depression and was undergoing medication for the last two years ... ”

I shut the TV off with a click and sank back into my chair, staring at the black screen.

Pauline Dupont had been a problem I hadn’t fucking needed, and now, she was nothing but a mess I didn’t want to deal with anymore.

But she’d served her purpose.

That was the problem with people like her—they thought they knew the game, but they don’t understand the rules until it’s too late.

And now, she was gone.

But the mess she had left was far from over.

My grip tightened around my coffee mug as I swallowed the hot liquid in one go, the scalding burn igniting a curse under my breath.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Grace stepped in a moment later, her face tight with a kind of controlled worry. She shifted from foot to foot, her hands fidgeting as she passed me my morning newspaper.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but Channel 5, CNN, Fox News, and other media outlets are all downstairs in the media room, waiting for you.”

I set the mug down with a soft clink.

The media circus downstairs wasn’t a surprise.

After everything that had just gone down, I had known they’d be itching for answers.

I stood up, adjusting my cuffs. “Let’s go.”

As we approached the media room, I caught sight of Jade lingering outside.

Her hair, usually loose in wild, dark waves, was pulled back into a tight updo.

It didn’t suit her. Too neat, too restrained, like it was suffocating everything that made her, her .

The long-sleeved black dress she wore clung to her figure, but covered too much. Too modest. Jade wasn’t modest, and seeing her like this felt like looking at a faded version of something vibrant.

Her fake glasses—the ones she slapped on when she wanted to play professional—rested on her nose, but they couldn’t distract from what I saw beneath them.

The makeup she usually wielded like a weapon was muted, almost bare, though her lips still held that faint red stain that captured my attention every damn time.

Her Louboutins clicked against the floor, but even that sound felt different, less sharp, less her. And then there were her eyes—dull, tired, refusing to meet mine, not even once.

This wasn’t my Jade.

At least, not the Jade I knew, and I hated that it unsettled me more than it should.

“Your lawyers are already in the crowd,” Grace said, handing Jade a bottle of water. “When you speak, remember to glance at them from time to time. They’ve prepared your statement and are already seated at the table on stage.”

Jade groaned, clearly annoyed. “I didn’t expect to be on TV today. I would’ve put more effort into my makeup.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Someone just died, Satan. Can you at least act like you care for the cameras?”

Jade crossed her arms. “You’re not the one who’s gonna have millions of people judging the way you look, oldie.”

I ignored their bickering and motioned for Jade to go in first.

She did, and— fuck , no.

Her dress dipped scandalously low in the back, revealing the damn dragon tattoo that never failed to ruin my focus. Vibrant reds and blues stretched across her skin, daring anyone to look, and making it impossible not to. It wasn’t just a tattoo—it was a deliberate choice to set the world on fire, one glance at a time.

I caught her wrist, pulling her back hard enough to make her stumble.

“Go put on a damn jacket. You’re not walking in there like that—unless you’re trying to convince people we run a porn studio.”

Jade ripped her arm from my grip. “I don’t have time to run back to my office and play dress-up.”

I stepped closer. “We’re about to give a statement on a fucking suicide, Miss Whitenhouse. We need to look like we’re mourning, not like you’re trying to seduce the viewers.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Give me yours then.”

I barked out a cold, humorless laugh. “Over my dead body.”

She leaned in, her voice a low hiss as a couple of journalists walked by.

“Come on,” she whispered. “They’ll think you were just comforting me after the news. My poor friend Pauline shot herself, and here you are, being the caring boss.”

As much as it made my blood boil, she was right.

The vultures waiting in the room just steps away were here for one thing only: to pin the blame on someone, and dig up a juicy story. Any slip-up, any crack in our facade, and they’d feast on it, twisting it to smear Lazzio Entertainment Group’s image into the ground.

I sighed, shrugging off my blazer and tossing it into her hands. “Don’t get any ideas. This doesn’t mean shit.”

Jade smirked as she slipped it on, the oversized fit swallowing her frame. “Of course not,” she muttered, smoothing the sleeves. “We wouldn’t want anyone thinking Angelo Lazzio actually has a heart.”

I shoved the door open and stepped into the media room, ignoring her completely.

The flash of cameras hit us instantly, the sound of murmured questions buzzing like a swarm of angry bees.

I felt her step in beside me, her expression instantly shifting to a mask of sorrowful composure as the eyes of the world locked onto us.

Showtime, baby.

“David McLoad from CNN,” announced a short, chubby man with funky glasses as he grabbed the mic. “Pauline Dupont was one of the most talented actresses in your Broadway productions. How could you not have known she was struggling mentally, Mr. Lazzio?”

“Thank you for your question, Mr. McLoad,” I said, letting my gaze sweep across the room, taking in all the journalists with their mics and cameras trained on us.

He nodded.

“We were actually aware that Miss Dupont was having a tough time, which is why we ensured she was under the care of a psychiatrist. She had regular sessions with Dr. Huang every Tuesday and Thursday morning. Additionally, we arranged alternative therapies—homeopathic treatments, traditional Chinese medicine—to give her a more holistic approach in managing her anxiety and negative thoughts.”

Lie after lie after fucking lie.

But I knew the press would eat it up.

They wanted a neat little package, something they could twist and sensationalize, and I’d made sure all the sources were legit.

They scribbled furiously, nodding like sheep.

McLoad sat back down, and another reporter immediately jumped up—a petite woman with a cropped pixie cut.

She grabbed the mic with purpose.

“Alexandra Jasper from Fox News,” she said. “Miss Whitenhouse, knowing a woman your age, working in the same company, chose to end her life—doesn’t that scare you? Don’t you worry that the Lazzio empire’s relentless pressure might have driven her to this? Are you not afraid you might face a similar fate?”

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as they turned their eyes to me, waiting for a reaction.

I knew what Jasper was getting at—the implication that the Lazzio name was a curse, a brand of power that crushed the souls of those under it.

And while she wasn’t entirely wrong, she was still crossing a fucking line.

Jade offered a small, soft smile. “Thank you, Miss Jasper, for your concern,” she said. “Firstly, I want to say that Pauline was a dear friend of mine. She had a beautiful soul, always finding the good in people, and she believed that art should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their background.” She paused, taking a shaky breath as if to steady herself. “Waking up to the news of her passing was devastating. Knowing I couldn’t be there for her in her darkest moment is something I’ll carry with me for a long time.”

A tear slid down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away.

A few of the women in the room murmured sympathetic noises, urging her to take her time, as if this wasn’t a show being put on for their benefit.

Jade took a slow, deep breath, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make everyone a little uncomfortable.

“Losing someone so close is… indescribable,” she continued, her voice catching ever so slightly. “We all knew Pauline was going through a rough time, but no one could have imagined it would come to this. If I could go back and do things differently, I would. I wish I’d checked in on her more, been there when she needed a friend. But we can’t change the past.”

She glanced at me, her eyes searching for a silent reassurance.

I feigned it, resting my hand on her shoulder, then slowly trailing it down her back before allowing it to drop back to my side.

She continued, her eyes locking on Alexandra Jasper. “As for me, Lazzio Entertainment Group, and specifically Lazzio Exhibits Inc., where I serve as COO, have been nothing short of the foundation of my dreams and the springboard for my success.”

My eyes didn’t drift from her.

“This company has been the blueprint for innovation, professional growth, and pushing boundaries. So, no, Miss Jasper. I don’t fear that I’ll meet the same fate as Pauline. The cause of her tragic end wasn’t this company—it was her struggle with mental health. And it’s a struggle many face, often silently.”

Alexandra Jasper’s lips thinned into a line, clearly not satisfied with the carefully polished answer.

She leaned back, folding her arms, but said nothing more.

I leaned forward slightly, catching the room’s attention.

“What happened to Pauline was a tragedy,” I said, my voice steady. “And while it’s easy to speculate and point fingers, the truth is that mental health struggles are complex, and deeply personal. We did everything we could to support her, but sometimes it’s not enough. We will be conducting a full internal review to see if there were any warning signs we missed, or if there’s more we could have done. Our hearts go out to her family and loved ones.”

The room buzzed with whispers, pens scratching across notepads as journalists scrambled to capture every word.

Grace stepped forward, a firm but polite smile on her face as she addressed the crowd. “Thank you all for your questions. That’s all the time we have for today. We appreciate your understanding during this difficult time.”

Jade gave me a quick, knowing look, a ghost of a smirk playing at her lips.

She knew we’d pulled it off.

I held her gaze a moment longer, the sinful thoughts in my head darkening my every breath.

I could barely keep my focus as I turned and left the room, leaving her behind.