“He didn’t turn me in,” she mumbled into her pillow. The words felt right, as if they’d been waiting all these years for her to utter their syllables. “Billy Finley didn’t betray me. He loved me.”
She closed her eyes and thought about what that meant. Decades lost between them because of a misunderstanding. There was no way Billy could love her now. Not after she’d completely rejected him a second time. And not after his confession.
Her heart began to ache and she curled up in a ball. There was no going back now. The only way through this was forward. She’d return to the castle tomorrow evening and have to learn to live with this knowledge. That she’d broken Billy and anything left between them.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the empty room.
One last waking thought sailed through her mind as she drifted off into a fitful sleep. If Billy hadn’t turned her in for the reward that meant someone else had. And that someone was likely still out there. She’d like to give a piece of her mind to the guilty party, but the reality was, she might never know who to confront.
And they might never know about the lives they destroyed.
Chapter Fourteen
A sharp knock on the door of her motel room wrenched Stasia from her sleep. She fell to the floor, her feet tied up in the twisted blankets. Rubbing a hand over her bruised bottom, she stared bleary-eyed at the door as another round of impatient knocks sounded. Who could be making such noise at this hour?
Had Billy come back for her? The thought brought a deep blush to her neck.
She popped to her feet and rushed to open it. Myra stood in the blinking porch light while mosquitoes and gnats buzzed above her head. A thin black trench coat wrapped around her tiny waist above knee-high leather boots. Her dark eye makeup and poisoned red apple lipstick looked ready for the club. She ran a disinterested glance slowly over Stasia’s crumpled outfit and walked past her into the room.
“Myra, what are you doing here?” Stasia rubbed a fist over her eyes and yawned. What the station’s head of editing was doing on her doorstep was beyond her. “I didn’t know to expect a visit.”
“I made a special trip out here just for you,” the vampiress said, running a finger along the top of the TV and frowning at the dust. “Quite the little town, your Molodoy.”
“Yeah, it grows on you after time.” Stasia sat on the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to curl up beneath the blankets.
She watched Myra with a wary eye, waiting for the news to break. Things must be worse than she expected if Myra had made a special trip out here just to comfort her. Maybe Mr. Treckle had emptied her desk contents on the network studio lawn. Pinned a photo of her in the break room and left a set of darts for anyone in the mood. Or, even threatened to curse her entire werewolf line. Trolls had notoriously bad tempers. She wouldn’t be surprised.
“Is this about my email?” Stasia asked, feeling sleep heavy on her eyes. “Is it really that bad?”
Myra nodded curtly and placed her hands deep in the trench-coat pockets. “Why didn’t we get any clips of Mr. Finley going into more detail about his fiancée’s death? Mr. Treckle had a feeling that there’s more to that story. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so furious. He’s not very happy with you.”
Sorrow crossed Stasia face and she pulled the blanket up to her chest. “Because Billy blames himself for her death. I didn’t feel it was right to share those clips, Myra. He shouldn’t blame himself. He wasn’t responsible.”
“So you did get the rest of the interview?” Myra turned to her with one eyebrow raised.
Stasia nodded solemnly. “But I deleted those shots.”
Myra tilted her head to one side and smiled softly. She sat down next to Stasia on the bed and sighed. “You’re quite the asset to the Lochness Broadcasting Network, do you know that?”
Stasia smiled through grateful tears. “Really?”
“Of course I do. It isn’t every day that we get royalty among our ranks. Travis Treckle was wasting your influence on the ground floor when he could’ve had you in front of the camera. A beautiful, energetic woman like you. People would’ve sat up and taken notice. But he let you rot in the ranks. And now where has that gotten us?”
Stasia blinked. She looked up at Myra’s steely smile and felt a tiny stab of fear in her gut. “What do you mean?”
“Travis’ neglect made you soft,” she said, capturing a flyaway curl of Stasia’s hair and tucking it behind one ear, her fingers lingering. “And because of him, I’ve lost my story and my royal marketing device. Because of him, I have to fire you. You were once my key to the top of this company, Ms. Pavlosky. But now I can see that you’re no good to me anymore.”
Stasia’s breath caught in her lungs. She’d expected this treatment from Mr. Treckle, but never from the vampiress beside her.
“But...why?” She didn’t understand why Myra would travel all the way out here just to fire her. Especially in the middle of the night.
“I needed you to understand how serious I am about this company,” she said coolly. “Some day, I will be the one running it. My climb to the top has been anything but easy. I won’t let some pampered princess who thinks she’s above the rules ruin this for me.”
Myra flashed a toothy smile, her fangs glistening. She popped up off the bed and strode toward the door.
“Collect your things by the end of this week or they’ll be thrown out with the rest of the garbage,” Myra said coolly. With a hand already on the doorknob, she paused. “If you’re feeling vengeful, don’t make the mistake of thinking for one second that your royal position can usurp me. With media, comes power. I will destroy the entire royal family should you so much as think of trying to get me expelled.”
Stasia stared at her, her head fuzzy. Surely, this wasn’t happening. It was all a bad dream. She just had to pinch her arm and she’d wake up.