Page 2 of Fallen Starboy

Chapter

One

ARISTA

Sometimes, murder seemed a justifiable option in the heat of the moment.

Like right now, in this fucking meeting with the worst boss to grace the halls of kNight Records.

I forced a fake smile to my lips and swallowed thickly, hating the fabric of my expensive pantsuit even though I was the one who picked it out.

It was too rough on the inside. A suit this expensive should have been lined in silk or satin, maybe even high-thread count cotton.

But the inside of my secondhand straightjacket from hell felt like cheap fake wool: rough to the touch, too hot, and itchy.

And that didn’t help the anxiety rolling through my body right now.

Danielle Steele stared down the table at her upper echelon, her eyes piercing each of our souls in turn as she moved from one end of the lineup, like a coach preparing to cut players right before the end of the season.

“I’m unhappy with this quarter’s margins.

We’re small, but to compete with the big dogs here in Nocturna Beach, we’re going to need more.

” She turned to Richard, our acquisitions officer, and smiled in a way that felt more like a threat than a gesture of happiness.

“Rich tells me we have several new options for the roster, looking to sing with anyone who will have them.”

I didn’t like the way that sounded– anyone who will have them. Made them sound like a dangerous gamble, and likely blacklisted in other countries, possibly even our own. Of course, that was the type of client we specialized in.

kNight Records was part of a bigger agency–Nocturna Beach’s kNight Rising Entertainment.

At its inception three years ago, Danielle Steele, the co-founder and forward-facing public image of the music side of things, made the bold claim that her company’s purpose was to give those wrongfully left with no other option another chance at stardom.

She even fucking quoted the damn Statue Of Liberty inscription, with a twist– give me your misbehaved, your unhireable, your irredeemable clients, all yearning for the same dream–stardom. Fame. Infamy, in most cases.

She hadn’t been kidding, either. Her first hire had been a movie star from Britain who’d been involved in several cheating scandals while married.

Turned out, it was the wife who’d been stepping out—and she’d been leaking the press fake rumors about his unfaithfulness to cover her own ass.

But that didn’t stop her from using the allegations to demand half of his assets on the divorce table.

When his agent dropped him, Danielle sent one of ours in and snapped him up quick.

Her next two hires were twin girls from Singapore who were arrested for stabbing the man who raped them in their own home.

I couldn’t blame them. Their talent agency, however, did. And when they went abroad looking for new opportunities, Ms. Steele lured them in with promises of a new life, and now they earned the company—and themselves—a steady six figures with all their appearances in movies and television shows.

She had a vision, and she made it work for her.

In the three years since, kNight Rising Entertainment had earned its reputation.

We now fielded more interest than we had time to hire on.

Talent was slipping through our hands, and unless we started taking on more clients, we’d never shatter that glass ceiling.

As a fellow driven career woman, I wanted nothing more than to shatter that fucker.

Okay, well, that, and forget.

“Are you with us, Miss Simmons?”

My attention jerked back to the present, and I blinked rapidly, trying to back-process whatever the fuck she’d said before I zoned out.

I shook my head when it became apparent I wouldn’t be able to fake this one. “Ah, sorry, Ms. Steele, I was distracted.”

Her pin-straight golden hair fell over her shoulders in waves as she shook her head. “Shame. You know, I had such high hopes for you once upon a time.”

I let that one roll off me. Arguing with the boss when you were caught daydreaming in a quarterly meeting wasn’t the way to climb the corporate ladder. “My apologies, Ms. Steele. I was just reviewing my talking points for the meeting to be more prepared.”

“Talking points?” Her head tipped to the side as she regarded me cooly, almost mockingly. “And what talking points do you bring to the table today, Rizzo?”

I flipped through my brain for a split second, latching onto the first thing I could think of.

“We haven’t recruited talent from abroad in a year now.

Most of our new clients last year came from this continent, and I think we’re missing a huge market of opportunity.

With Asian media and celebrities rising in popularity on a global level, we would be stupid not to search the talent pool for someone specifically suited to our company’s core practices. ”

All corporate jargon for hire a foreign talent or three, you moron.

“I see.” Those hawk-like eyes slowly slid from me to the man on my left: Richard. Sorry, buddy. Better you than me.

“Rich mentioned he planned to send an agent over today to sign our newest acquisition. They’re from the K-pop scene. You’re familiar with that market, correct?”

Asking me if I was familiar with the Korean pop scene was like asking a fish if it had ever swam before.

“Ah, yes, ma’am, I am.” After all, I had flown all the way to Korea seven years ago as a foreign exchange student my first year in college to intern with one of the biggest names in the entertainment scene.

I immersed myself in the atmosphere, even learning Korean in my free time to communicate with coworkers who didn’t speak English.

After all, they weren’t about to talk trash in a language I could understand.

So yeah, I was familiar with the market in question.

Ms. Steele must’ve seen something she liked in my eyes because she nodded to herself and flicked a finger at her assistant, Tobias.

He held out a folder containing a contract with a copy in English and another in Korean.

“The client expects us to bring the contract for negotiation and signing today before seven. They’ll be landing in an hour, and we’ve already prepared a driver to pick them up, take them to check in at their hotel, and then meet us in the executive boardrooms when they’re finished.

” Her fingers tapped against the upper portion of her crossed arms as she regarded me coolly.

“You can serve as our interim assistant and translator, perhaps smooth the way between the new client and our employees. We have a distinct lack of available translators for foreign stars, especially those from Asian communities, and as we search for an adequate one, perhaps you could fill the role?”

I wasn’t an interpreter. Sure, I was fluent enough in the two main languages here to translate a conversation and facilitate contract negotiations. But I was salaried. I was a senior staff of the foreign liaisons department, for fuck’s sake. There had to be a better option.

What I wanted to say was respectfully, go fuck yourself, I’m not Google Translate. What I said was–

“Sure, I can help with that. Will they need a translator on-site at all times, or just while interacting with staff?”

Way to go, Rizzo. Some conviction and spine you got there.

“They’ll need an assistant on hand who speaks the language, until we can hire out their staff. I assume that’s okay with you?”

The position of department head was opening up soon. I wanted that promotion. And I wasn’t above earning brownie points by playing translator for some random teenage boy from Korea who needed someone to order delivery food and translate interview questions.

Or girl. Women in Korea were just as likely to fall to scandal in the cutthroat purity culture of that market. If a girl got caught kissing a boy, she could lose her spot in the group. That was just the surface. If she ended up pregnant . . .

No. No way in hell we were going down memory lane today.

I didn’t have time to spiral, and I couldn’t afford to show up to this meeting with a new client while shitfaced, which was what I’d end up being if I let the past creep into my present.

We all made mistakes in the past. Some people drank to forget. I drank to numb the pain.

My ghosts always caught up to me in the mirror the following day, though.

I wonder if she still has my eyes?

“I can manage it, yes.”

“Great. You’ll wait for the lawyer’s call and head to the hotel when summoned.

And remember, Rizzo. This is a huge opportunity.

The company is riding on this new talent pool, and if we can get this client to work for us, it’s just a toe in the door compared to the opportunities that will present themselves. ”

She was right. Once the door was open, word of mouth traveled fast. Other models, actors, singers, and idols would learn about the differences in our country’s entertainment world and scene, and those cast out with nowhere else to go would think of us.

It was genius. And who better to spearhead the move than kNight Rising Entertainment?

Two hours later, I held the contract in the folder to my chest as I exited the taxi and struggled not to be swept away by the fierce wind blowing on the tail end of what felt like monsoon season.

We were on day eight of straight rain, and I’d be lucky if my road weren’t flooded out tonight.

I could check into the executive suite at our agency’s preferred hotel and spend the night in luxury if I couldn’t make it, but at the end of the day, all I’d want was the comfort of my bed and the conveniently stashed bottle of Tanqueray in my nightstand.

Water droplets flung from my watch’s face as I shook it out, checking to make sure traffic hadn’t made me too late.

Oh, good. I’m only ten minutes behind schedule, which leaves me five minutes to prepare before the clients arrive.

I spotted our talent lawyer and a new-ish agent, Fernando, huddled around the executive lounge, a drink in each of their hands.

So much for not drinking on the job.

Men always seemed to think they could get away with anything because of the dicks swinging in their pants.

As a woman, I had to work twice as hard to be seen, recognized for my work and not my tits.

To see their blatant disregard for professionalism made me want to throttle them both in plain view of the receptionist they no doubt flirted with when they walked in, like they weren’t both married with kids that were very likely not their own.

I had a hard time imagining any woman would crawl beneath Fernando for a fuck.

Not even for the salary he took home every year, which made my measly paychecks look like play money.

The lawyer, whatever the fuck his name was, spotted me first, pointing in my direction with a sneer and a little wink as he nudged Fernando on the shoulder.

I pretended not to notice the interaction and mocking attitude as I strolled over to meet up with them, glad the contract covered the low neckline I’d chosen to switch into after finally ridding myself of that damned itchy-ass jacket.

Thankfully, the rain hadn’t made it cold today, so losing the blazer was not only reasonable, it was understandable.

I’d forgotten the blouse I put on this morning was missing a button, though, which meant my cleavage was on full display for anyone and everyone to ogle.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to endure a teenager staring down my top while we were supposed to be talking business.

There was only so much humiliation I could take in one day for the sake of my job.

“Shall we?” I asked the men, regarding them with my professional smile as they eyed me up from top to bottom.

Fernando held an arm out and waved in the direction of the nearest conference room, and I steeled myself for a conversation between a teenager from another country and two slightly inebriated men, no doubt hours of translating legal jargon in my foreseeable future.

Yay, adulting.

I fucking hated this job sometimes.