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We climb into the car, and I buckle Fen into his carrier. He’s half asleep now after all that fussing on the plane, but the moment the car is in drive and the privacy screen is up, I don’t waste time. “Who?”

“Tommy Hardgrave.”

“What?!” both Keegan and I exclaim.

“Tommy Hardgrave? My co-star? America’s Wonder Boy? Mr. I’m everyone’s best mate? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. I went through Alden’s phone and was able to triangulate the original texts back to a location because he slipped up, and the phone had been hooked up to a WIFI when they were sent, and the location is his rental penthouse in the city. More than that, it matches up. He knew you were in town and had ways to follow you from the studio and knew your disguise because he saw you in it.”

“He was on the call,” I murmur, a bit lost in my thoughts with this.

“What call?” Keegan and Vander ask in unison.

“My call with Mel at the studio when he told me they were moving up the production date. Tommy was in the room. He knew we were going to Key West for the day.” My jaw clenches.

“That doesn’t surprise me with how fast they found you. Anyway, I followed him last night to a strip club and hacked his phone. In doing my digging, I discovered that he was passed over for the lead in this film in favor of you, and the next film you signed on for, he wanted but also didn’t get. You also make more money and headlines than him by far. He views you as his number one competition.”

“So by ruining me, he removes me as that.” I lean back in my seat and scrub my hands up my face. “Well then. Do we have proof of this?”

“I do because I have him with the burner phone and all the texts on that, and all his emails with his agent, where he’s not shy about how much he hates you. He clicked a phishing link I sent him that I made to look like it was from a studio about a future role. I have his entire system, and he’s done a lot of digging on both of you. The posts made to that dummy Instagramaccount came from his burner phone. So now it depends on how you want to proceed. I might have also done something else depending on your answer because I want him to suffer. He was a particularly offensive prick to a dancer at the strip club.”

My hands drop to my lap, and I stare across the aisle at the man on the opposite bench seat. “I’m listening.”

“On his computer is an AI-generated video using software he pays a subscription for. There are two videos on there. One is the real video that we know is real, and the other is an AI-generated voice one that has Keegan thanking you for stepping in but worrying that your relationship will become public.”

I scrunch my brow. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“We’re going to say that the AI-generated one is the original video and that Tommy created the alternate one that we all know is the real video using AI. If anyone checks it, it’ll turn out to prove this. Trust me on that.”

“Blimey!” My eyes turn into saucers. “You did all that?”

“You’re diabolical.” Keegan laughs, shocked.

“It wasn’t difficult, and I have no moral objections to ruining people who intentionally seek to destroy others.”

Keegan makes a noise. “Remind me never to cross you.”

Seriously.

I think about this. It feels wrong, but at the same time, not at all. Tommy had no qualms about doing what he did. He was methodical and cutthroat. “If I need it, I’ll use it. Let’s start with the legitimate things he did first.” In fact…

I shift around and pull my phone from the pocket of my trousers. Both Keegan and Vander are throwing me funny looks, but I’m not going to play defense. Not this time.

I dial up Lance, who picks up on the first ring. “I want you to call Mel at the studio and tell him that I want a meeting in the next hour.”

“What? Where the hell is this coming from?” he barks into the phone.

“It was Tommy Hardgrave, and I have evidence I’m sending you that my PI team put together. Tommy is the one who set all this up and has been following me with the design to ruin my career and hurt not only my reputation but Keegan’s as well.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Loomis, are you suggesting… you’re telling me you haveproofof this?”

I look out the window as we emerge from the tunnel with Boston sprawling around us. “Absolutely. Substantial proof.”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“Tell them I’ll be at the studio in one hour and that I’m bloody furious, but don’t give them more details than that yet.”

“I’m on it. Do you want an attorney there with you?”