Chapter 19 Compromised
Compromised
LOTHAIR
I’d never had as many screenplays and proposals on my desk before. I eyed the pile, wondering how long it would take me to read all of them. A month?
I’d probably have a hard time saying no to the three that Allan Caspian was producing. I didn’t even have to open those. The fastest way to go through the rest would be to only look at my manager’s personal recommendations, although I wasn’t sure I could trust him anymore.
We’d had two more incidents since the gala, and Terry had been livid.
Carlos had stubbornly insisted the security fiascos weren’t his fault and even suggested they were what I’d wanted to achieve.
He’d been snappy and arrogant lately, plus kept pushing me into projects I didn’t want to do.
I hadn’t gone as far as to start looking for another talent manager, but I was considering it.
How about the projects neither Allan nor Carlos had even seen?
I grabbed a couple of folders and read the summaries.
A rugged ex-military with PTSD becomes the captain of a fishing boat and gets caught in the middle of an epic battle between a prehistoric shark and a mutant octopus.
I snorted. That would be a no. I dropped the folder on the floor next to my chair.
A car thief with martial arts skills overturns a dictatorship…
Discard that one. Zombie apocalypse in space, ninja gang wars, an erotic horror about an alien invasion?
I turned a page and read a few lines and quickly closed the folder.
Nope. I’m not getting butt-fucked by aliens on camera. Not even pretend.
Terry walked in with two cups of coffee. “How’s it going?”
I pointed to the first, smallest pile of papers. “I don’t have a say in the ones Allan Caspian’s chosen.”
“He’s Paris’s main producer.”
“Yes. And currently one of the most powerful men in the industry. We were at his party, remember?” I waggled my eyebrows. It had been the first time I’d seen Terry fuck an omega.
Terry gave me a wry smile. “How could I forget? And these files?”
“That’s the shit Carlos usually sends me, and I’m not in the mood. So instead I’m looking at the ones that came from independent sources.” I pointed at another stack of folders. “Maybe there’s something interesting there.”
“And?”
“No luck so far.”
“Can I look?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.”
Terry picked a folder and read the summary on the first page. He chuckled merrily. “Godzilla versus Superman but in the Middle Ages. Really? I want to see that.”
“There’s only the teeniest chance any of these will make it onto the big screen.”
He took the next one, eyed it for a few seconds, and promptly added it to my discard pile.
I paged through the beginning of yet another mindless action flick.
It was the same all over again. I was starting to feel despondent about it.
Was I stuck in people’s heads as the guy who only blew shit up but couldn’t act?
“Lothair?”
I looked up to see Terry frowning at another script. “Yes?”
“Have you read Phoenix Heist by any chance?” he asked, eyes scanning the page.
“Of course I have. It was one of my favorites as a kid.”
“They’re making a movie. Here.”
I tore the script out of his hands. My heart pounding, I paged through the proposal. “They’re offering me the role of Adalsteinn.”
“The wizard?”
“Yeah.” I was grinning like a fool. “This would be so cool, Terry.”
“Did that come through someone you know?”
“No. It looks like they’re looking for a larger production company to back them up.”
Terry raised his eyebrows at me.
“I’m going to call Allan Caspian,” I said, reaching for my phone.
“No.”
“No?”
“Call Paris first.”
I laughed. “I’m firing Carlos. You’ll be my manager instead.”
Terry rolled his eyes. “I agree with the first part.”
I shot Paris a text instead. He never answered any calls anyway, but he would get back to me eventually.
“Still no luck with the leaks?” I asked Terry.
“No. I’m starting to think Carlos is behind it himself.”
“That wouldn’t make sense.”
Terry shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
As if on cue, my phone rang. Carlos.
I groaned but picked it up. “I’m almost done,” I said.
“You’d better be. The guys from Rumble Productions want an answer by tomorrow morning.”
“You can give them the answer already. I’m not doing any of those.”
“Are you crazy? They’re offering twice the money we got from them last time.”
“I don’t want to work with them anymore. I’ll be stuck as an action dummy for the rest of my career.”
“I hate to break it to you, superstar, but you are an action dummy. Just because you fucked Paris isn’t going to change that. Acting talent isn’t an STD.”
I gritted my teeth. He was going way too far. “Allan Caspian doesn’t seem to agree with you.”
“You haven’t received any proposals from Caspian. I haven’t heard from him at all. You’re stuck with me, Lothair, so toe the line.”
And I had him. I winked at Terry, who eyed me over the edge of his coffee cup. “You’re wrong, Carlos. You haven’t received any proposals from him, but I have. He sent three pre-approved scripts directly to my house.”
That knocked the wind out of him.
“As your talent manager, I demand that any proposals go through my office.”
“Maybe Allan doesn’t find your office reliable anymore since you did nothing about the location leaks.”
“You ungrateful shit.”
Uh-oh. “I don’t think you’re supposed to talk to your client like this, Carlos. Unless you don’t want me to be your client anymore.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
The phone went silent.
I glanced at Terry, who’d been watching me from the sofa with raised eyebrows.
“I think I’ve just fired my manager.”
Terry grinned. “Good job. It was about time.”
With glee, I scooped up one of the piles of papers on my desk and dumped it into the wastebasket. “Bye-bye. I’ll email my lawyer about a contract termination. I used to think I’d be lost without Carlos, but now I feel kinda good about this.”
“I’m sure Paris can recommend someone far more capable.”
Was I being ungrateful? But my manager had already gotten filthy fucking rich thanks to my success. No, I didn’t owe Carlos anything.
I smiled at my mate. “Let’s go for a swim.”
Later in the afternoon, when Paris called me back and showed interest in the Phoenix Heist adaptation, I’d already served Carlos a contract termination. I was in a celebratory mood.
“Can we go out?”
Terry sighed. “Remember you and Paris agreed that we should keep a low profile for a few weeks.”
“Ugh. We still haven’t been to the special peen club your friend Roche recommended.”
My mate hugged me, cupped my ass, and squeezed. “How about we go flying instead? I’ll fuck you on a mountaintop.”
“To the glacial lake?”
He kissed my nose. “Yes.”
After sundown, I was on my knees on the top of a mountain, overlooking the star-studded lake. My mate bit my shoulder as he released deep inside me.
It felt like the best way to celebrate.
I didn’t know how Paris did it. It was fucking annoying.
I had fans, and I liked my fans. Paris had packs of rabid dogs trying to get a bite of him.
The crowd in front of the theater rippled like a stormy sea.
In the heavy rain, with steam rising from the overheated sidewalks, the scene looked especially ominous.
Under the overhanging roof above the grand entrance, Paris and I stood next to each other, waving at the cameras.
Then Paris posed on the red carpet in his hundred-thousand-dollar outfit made of lace and pearls while I waited a few steps to the left.
I wore a simple black tux so as not to take any attention from him.
It was his premiere, after all, and I was merely here as his plus-one.
Terry and Paris’s bodyguard, who I now knew was fittingly named Boone, hovered around with the rest of Paris’s security team, doing whatever they always did to contain the shrieking fans.
Suddenly, a small omega appeared in front of me.
Short and skinny with glasses and a cheap suit jacket, he popped up out of nowhere.
He thrust a manila envelope at me, and I was too stunned not to take it.
Cameras flashed all around me, so the guy’s face was obscured, but I noticed a lanyard with a tag dangling on his chest. He must have been either from the press or some type of staff.
Then the envelope was ripped out of my hand.
“Move!” Boone bellowed, and we were ushered inside.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Terry sniffing the envelope, a murderous scowl on his handsome face.
TERRANCE
It wasn’t a bomb, and there were no traces of dangerous substances on it. Still, the way the little omega had managed to push through and hand the envelope directly to Lothair made me furious.
I should be able to stop things like this from happening!
This time, it was Boone who was apologetic. Tonight was their rodeo. In his defense, the omega must have had security clearance for the event. Paris’s people were trying to find him while Boone and I were stuck at the premiere.
During the premiere, I hid the envelope under my suit jacket. I didn’t trust anyone with it.
Finally, we were back at the hotel. Paris had gone to shower, and Lothair was fixing himself a drink at the bar while Boone was looking at me expectantly.
“So?” Lothair asked.
I unwrapped the string and opened the flap. It was a stack of large photographs. Blackmail, then. How original.
Lothair and me on the street at night, entering a club—one of the adults-only places Lothair liked. Why would anyone think this would hurt us? Lothair’s tastes were well known.
The next photo was of us leaving the same club. Lothair’s hand was on my neck in a way that looked suggestive but still casual enough.
Then came a picture from the inside of what looked like a generic hotel bedroom.
Shit.
They must have bugged the room.
In the picture, Lothair was on his knees, with my dick deep in his throat.
“Well?” Boone urged.