Chapter 37 – Willa #2
At the look on Jackie’s face, I don’t think I need that full investigation. Her perfectly made-up face is losing all color, her lips parted, eyes wide with shock. It’s clear that she underestimated me and never thought in a million years she would be here, caught red-handed.
I maintain my facade, using that long-established shield of mine, this one more vicious and cutthroat than my normal sweet Willa Stone one.
"Now, I’m sure you know what decision these findings led me to.
" I pull out a thick packet of paper, filled with legal jargon, and slide it to Jackie.
"This is for the full, amicable termination of our relationship, effective immediately.
" Jackie pulls them closer with a shaky hand, eyes flitting over the page before pushing it away.
Her own mask comes back, a cocky look taking over as she crossed her arms on her chest.
“I’m not signing that.”
"We are not leaving this room until you sign this, along with the iron-clad NDA requiring you to never speak about me, my brand, business, or any of the other items specified on page three.
" I push the papers back to her, and begrudgingly, she pulls them close.
Jackie flips through the documents and shakes her head before fixing me with a look I've seen many times—her attempt to assert control over me.
It worked before, but I’m not the same person I was six months ago. If she hasn’t noticed, she’s paid less attention than I thought.
"This is ridiculous—" Jackie says. I slide another packet of papers forward, ignoring her and continuing on.
"This removes you from all previous materials and rights, meaning you will rescind any right to ongoing royalties for past works and any future endeavors."
“You’re out of—”
"You may retain all previous earnings, including those from brand collaborations you accepted for me and were paid directly to your personal bank accounts—not mine.
If you do not sign this, along with the termination document and NDA, I will be pressing charges to recoup the entirety of what I am owed. "
"I’m sorry?" she says, but her voice is frail. The last shred of hope I had fades away with the knowledge that she won’t fight—because she can't.
"You should be, because for years, you insisted I wear certain outfits, going so far as to get angry if I went off script. I thought it was a bit strange, but you know, it's all about the brand, so I went with it. What I didn’t know at the time was that many of those were high-value deals, often in the mid-to-high six figures, which you accepted on my behalf and never informed me of. If you refuse to sign these papers, I'll have no option but to pursue legal action for compensation. My private investigator estimates those missing payments total millions of dollars. You’d be entitled to your ten percent, of course, but once we factor in court costs and damages, I’m not sure how much you’d have left. "
On Saturday night, after we called everybody up and made sure our friends knew I was safe, we called Jaime at Wilde Security.
Between him and a few of his own PI and investigative contacts, we were able to quickly find everything we needed and more to paint the picture of the past ten to fifteen years.
Over the years, Jackie had accepted brand deals with dozens, potentially hundreds of brands, from clothing to workout gear to restaurants, promising them that I would get photographed by the paparazzi using their product if they paid me.
It’s why Jackie was so determined to always have my clothing set out.
It wasn’t that she needed to protect the brand, as she always told me; it was that she needed to hold up her end of the contract.
Silence rings in the room as Jackie slides the papers closer, hands shaking as she scans them over, then shakes her head before pushing them away with disgust.
“I’m not signing these. I’ll come out with my side of the story. I’ll tell the world the truth. If I go down, you go down with me.”
I smile then.
A big one.
A genuine one.
One that probably edges on evil.
“And who would believe you?”
I ask, tipping my head to the side and looking down my nose at her.
“Excuse me? Everyone would. I would make a killing telling people this story, I bet I could—”
“You built the brand, Jackie, and I’ll admit, you did it well.
You’re the cutthroat agent to Willa, my closest advisor, my right-hand woman, but I am Willa Stone.
America’s sweetheart. I am the one people love.
Recently, I’ve come to dread the box you forced me into, but right now, it would work in my favor.
To the media, to the world, I am sweet and innocent and untouchable.
You could absolutely book fifteen interviews, try to tell the world ‘your side,’ but I would just have to go on one, tell my story, cry, bring the decades of receipts I’ve accumulated, tell everyone how you manipulated and used me, and I would win.
And with that, I would destroy you. Your clients would all leave.
You would be left with nothing. In fact, I think I am being incredibly generous by ending our relationship as amicably as I am. ”
When the full picture became clear, Leo wanted me to do much worse than just end things with Jackie, but I just wanted it all behind me. “But if you want to try and beat me at this game you trained me for, have at it. We can battle both in the media and the courts,” I say.
With my words, I watch something change in her face, in an instant morphing from her being the one in charge, the one who controlled me, to seeing me as the one now in control of her.
I put a hand on the stack of papers and make to slide them away.
Panic flashes, and her hands slap over the papers, pulling them back to her.
“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, after all of these years. After everything I’ve done for you.”
I sigh, genuine sadness in the sound. I’ve gone through the stages of grief, what feels like a dozen times in the past two days, and I’m sure I’ll feel it over and over for what might be years, each time I remember a small moment in time that twists the knife in my chest again.
Something that was said or done or hidden that I ignored, a dozen of them that added up until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
There’s no betrayal like one of someone you trusted, someone you loved, someone you thought of as family.
There is no worse feeling than a person who never actually cared for you, who used you for their own benefit, and now that you’re not complicit in it, you’re being shifted into being the villain.
But that’s fine: I can be the villain in her story, because I know she’ll be living in a revisionist history no matter what, putting a spin on the truth to create something she can live with.
“You know, it’s funny, because I thought the same exact thing.”
Silence settles before I slide a pen her way. “Now sign the fucking contracts so I never have to see you again.”
Then she grabs the pen and starts to read the papers, signing and initialing where I was kind enough to put little pink tabbies I borrowed from Wren.
“Now, Jefferson,” I say as she does, turning to Leo’s boss. “You are going to release Leo from his contract. And–”
“The fuck I will. You might have her tied up, but I don’t—”
“I have a written and sworn testimony from Chris that you supplied him with the incredibly personal photographs, told him to blackmail me with them, and to inform me that Leo Sinclair was to blame. When he balked at first, because it seems even an asshole like Chris has a line, you had your own photos of Chris that you threatened him with.”
His face blanches, and I smile.
This one hurt less.
Taking Jefferson down is far less personal and thus far more satisfying.
“Now, you are going to sign this contract that my lawyer so kindly also wrote up, releasing Leo Sinclaire from his contract.” I take out another stack of papers from my folder and slide it his way.
“It will allow him to start up his own firm, as well as take whatever clients of his who wish to go with him without contest. If you do not, I will approve Leo to submit this article I wrote about my experience with Perfect Image and the way they manipulate and control both their clients and their employees in order to create fear and ensure loyal.” He looks from me to the contract before him.
“I wouldn’t suggest arguing with me on this, Jefferson, because I could easily be charging you with revenge porn. ”
“Is this not blackmail?” he asks, his voice smug, still trying to retain higher ground. “I could come out and say you are blackmailing me.”
“You can’t be this stupid, can you?” I turn to Leo, who is grinning now, wide and thoroughly entertained. “He can’t be this stupid, can he?”
Leo just shrugs.
“I never said he was smart, honey.”
Jefferson turns to Leo, anger and hatred on his face.
Yesterday, when I asked if he wanted to be the one to do all of the talking, to take down Jackie and Jefferson with his normal skill and sharp attitude, he declined, saying he wanted me to realize just how powerful I am.
I was shocked, and it seems that Jefferson is too, though he’s being stupid about it.
“Oh, so that’s it, is it? The big, tough Leo Sinclaire is just going to let some bitch do his dirty work for him?
” Jefferson asks, venom snapping at Leo.
I tighten my hand in Leo’s, nervous that he’ll snap, that he’ll bite the bait that Jefferson is clearly dangling, but if anything, he relaxes more, leaning back in his chair and grabbing a pen from the table, clicking the end carelessly.
“I guess so. I’ve gotta say, it’s pretty entertaining to watch you be felled by a pop star you underestimated.”
“Seems people have done that a lot to me,” I murmur, and Leo looks to me, giving me a wide grin.
“Not anymore.”
“Never again,” I say, and despite the urge in my veins, I fight the desire to kiss him.
But barely.
“Now I have things and places and people to do, so if you two could get to signing, that would be just great.”
Jackie and Jefferson glare at me, but when Leo offers the pen in his hand to Jefferson, he takes it before he starts signing.
“You’ll be nothing without me,” Jackie says as I walk out fifteen minutes later. “In two years, you’ll have nothing, Willa.” I look over my shoulder at her, then shrug a shoulder, Leo’s hand in mine, the contracts secured in my bag.
“I’ll be happy, and I’ll be free, and with that, Jackie, I’ll have it all.” Then I turn back ahead and walk away with my head held high.
I hold it together in the elevator.
I hold it together as my heels click down the hall.
I hold it together as we step out into where a dozen cameras scream my name, my fingers twined with Leo’s as we step out into the blinding sun, smiling.
But once we’re in the car, it cracks.
The brave facade I’ve been keeping held high cracks, crumbling at my feet. Leo reaches over and unbuckles me, ignoring road safety and pulling me into him as Gabe drives away.
“I know,” he murmurs before I say anything at all, which is good as I begin to cry into his shoulder.
I sob there, snuffling and hiccupping as I let it all out, as the emotions move through me, relief uncomfortably twining with disappointment and hurt.
Because the truth is, I’d held the smallest kernel of hope.
Hoped that it was all a huge misunderstanding, and that Jackie would somehow prove she really did care for me, that it wasn’t all just a play for power and control and money all along.
And when she didn’t, I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed.
Thankfully, I’ve had this cry a few times over the past few days, so it’s only a few minutes in Leo’s arms before I start to calm down, start to even out my breathing.
“This is probably the wrong time to tell you that was the hottest thing I ever saw, right?” Leo asks as my sniffle starts to fade out.
I have so much to work on, to figure out.
Lawyers to contact, things to put in place to ensure Jackie has absolutely no access to anything in my life anymore, but despite all of that, I laugh.
I laugh, and I do it hard, my sad tears turning to humorous ones, and as I do, Leo grins down at me, a thumb brushing over my cheek, wiping at the wetness there as I know he always will.
And there, in my relief and my sorrow, in my love and my acceptance and humor and joy, I know that I finally, finally, have it all.