Page 54

TAKING THE THRONE

TEMPEST

I pulled the baseball cap low over my eyes, shrugging myself down into Flynn’s oversized DSU hoodie, and donning the biggest pair of sunglasses Parker could find in our room. I felt ridiculous, but my sisters assured me it was “peak celebrity undercover realness.”

“You look like a hungover pop star avoiding the paparazzi,” Hannah said, nodding approvingly as our group claimed the back corner of Cool Beans Cat Café. “Very on-brand for your new famous author status.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” I protested, though the past forty-eight hours suggested otherwise.

My phone hadn’t stopped buzzing with notifications since The Dracarys article broke, and according to Parker’s surveillance, there were still two enterprising journalism students camping outside the KAT house.

“Tell that to the three news vans that were outside our house this morning,” Alice said, setting down a tray of coffee mugs .

Flynn slid into the booth beside me, his arm settling comfortably around my shoulders. “No news vans followed us, so the decoy plan worked. We should be safe here for a while.”

Across the café, Gryff and Isak had stationed themselves strategically at separate tables, pretending to study while actually keeping watch. Somehow, in the space of a few days, I’d acquired a security detail consisting of half the DSU football team and the entire KAT senior class.

“Okay, crisis management time,” Bettie said, slipping into her chapter president mode. She pulled out a color-coded planner. “First issue, classes. You’ve got Shakespeare tomorrow with Professor Whitmore, then marketing, and your senior thesis meeting on Thursday.”

I groaned, sinking lower in my seat. “I can’t show up to Shakespeare. Professor Whitmore is likely having a cow over all of this. One of those really cute highland cows with the fluffy bangs.”

“You mean the same Professor Whitmore, who emailed the dean to say, and I quote, ‘I’m delighted to discover we have a commercially successful author in our midst,’” Bettie said, reading from her phone.

I blinked. “He what?”

“You’re good for the English department,” Parker explained. “Published authors equal prestige. They’re capitalizing on your success faster than you can say ‘liberal arts alumni fundraiser.’”

A large orange tabby cat chose that moment to leap onto our table, knocking over Hannah’s empty cup before settling directly in front of me with regal indifference.

“See? Catticus Finch, Attorney at Paw recognizes literary royalty,” Flynn said, scratching the cat behind its ears.

Despite everything, I laughed. “My disguise isn’t fooling anyone, is it?”

“Not even the cats,” Parker confirmed cheerfully. “But we’ve got a plan. Operation Author Protection Squad is a go.”

Parker did love a plan with a secret code name.

“Please tell me that’s not what you’re actually calling it,” I said, already knowing the answer from the matching gleams in my sisters’ eyes.

“APS for short,” Alice replied. “We’ve mapped out routes to all your classes that avoid high-traffic areas. Thanks to your captain of the football team boyfriend, next year’s captains of all the major sports on campus have volunteered as escort bodyguards, two per journey, rotating schedule.”

I glanced up at Flynn, who gave me one of those confident I-got-you-boo chin bobs.

“I’ve drafted a statement for you to send professors,” Bettie continued, sliding a printed paper across the table.

“Brief, professional, acknowledging the situation while requesting privacy during this transition. The dean’s office has already confirmed they’ll support whatever accommodations you need. ”

I stared at them, warmth blooming in my chest. “You guys did all this for me?”

“Of course we did,” Hannah said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s what sisters do.”

“Besides,” Parker added, “this is the most exciting thing to happen at KAT since Jessica dated that guy from the band that got sort of famous for like three months.”

“And the KAT alumni network has activated,” Bettie added. “Maria Jimenez, who graduated the year before we pledged, works for a crisis PR firm in New York. She’s offering pro bono consultation calls whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I managed, looking around at their determined faces. “Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“You can thank us by signing our copies of your books,” Hannah said, grinning. “We’ve all been reading them since the first book came out. Bettie just finished book three last night and cried for an hour.”

“I did not cry for an hour,” Bettie protested. “Forty-five minutes, tops.”

Everyone laughed, and I felt something tight in my chest begin to loosen. This was what I’d been afraid of losing, this easy camaraderie, this unconditional acceptance.

“What about your family?” Alice asked gently. “How did your meet-up with them go?”

I exchanged a look with Flynn, who ran his hand down my back, giving me just that smidge of comfort I needed.

“Better than I expected, in some ways. Worse in others.” I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug, drawing strength from its warmth. “My mom is... still processing. Her way of saying she’s disappointed but not ready to disown me completely. Which is an improvement. ”

“She’ll come around,” Flynn said with more confidence than I felt. “Your dad knows what’s up and he’ll convince her. I’m sure.”

“Papá’s actually been texting me,” I admitted. “And Freddie is already campaigning to be a character in my next book,” I added with a small smile. “Ophelia too. Rosalind and Catalina are still firmly in Mom’s camp, though.”

“What about Abuela?” Parker asked.

I groaned but with a smile. “She actually called her agent to see about getting cast in the series.”

“I like your abuela more every day,” Flynn said, grinning.

Catticus Finch, Attorney at Paw chose that moment to headbutt my hand, demanding attention. As I scratched under his chin, I realized I was smiling...really smiling, for the first time in days.

“So what’s next?” Hannah asked. “Did we miss anything?”

“I’m meeting with my agent this afternoon,” I said, the smile fading slightly.

“There are... complications with the FlixNChill deal. I need to sort those out before I make any other decisions. Anyway,” I continued, “I need to decide if I still want to work with FlixNChill after this. The deal is incredible, but if I can’t trust them. ..”

“Trust your gut,” Bettie advised. “You’ve built this career on your own terms so far. Don’t compromise now just because everyone knows who you are.”

I nodded, gathering my resolve. “Okay.”

I planned to harness that, the advice from the Kingman Queens to take up space, and my inner AbuelaNovela for this meeting.

“Absolutely not acceptable,” I said firmly, maintaining eye contact with Franklin Peters, FlixNChill’s head of development. “You promised confidentiality throughout our negotiations. That promise was broken, which means all our previous terms are now void.”

We were sitting in a private conference room at the Peachy Creek Four Seasons, where Gloria had arranged an emergency meeting with the FlixNChill executives. My agent sat beside me, uncharacteristically quiet as I took the lead.

Franklin looked profoundly uncomfortable. “Ms. Navarro, I assure you that FlixNChill takes this breach very seriously. Our internal investigation, well, we’re still determining exactly how the information leaked,” he hedged, adjusting his designer glasses. “These things can be complicated.”

“What’s not complicated is trust,” I countered. This was not something I was willing to just let go in the name of being a good girl. “I want to know who compromised my privacy and that there will be consequences before I sign anything.”

Beside me, Gloria suppressed a smile. This was not the meek, accommodating Tempest she was used to dealing with. But after years of hiding and the chaos of the past week, something had fundamentally shifted in me.

I was done being afraid.

“We understand your concerns,” said Melissa Wong, FlixNChill’s senior VP of content acquisition. She’d flown in from LA specifically for this meeting, which told me exactly how much they wanted this deal. “And we share them. The last thing we wanted was to jeopardize this deal.”

“And yet, here we are,” I said coolly.

Melissa exchanged a glance with Franklin, then leaned forward. “Ms. Navarro, Tempest, may I speak frankly?”

I nodded, bracing myself.

“Our preliminary investigation suggests this wasn’t just an internal leak,” she said, her voice dropping. “We believe someone close to you may have been involved.”

The statement landed like a stone in still water, ripples of shock spreading through me.

“What do you mean?” Gloria asked sharply.

“We’ve tracked a message on our end that appears to have come from a Colorado number,” Melissa explained. “It contained details about Ms. Navarro’s routine, her writing habits, specific campus locations. It’s information no one at FlixNChill would have had access to.”

I felt sick. Someone I knew had betrayed me? An envious classmate? A disgruntled sorority sister? A family member?

“Someone who knew you were Miranda Milan?” Gloria asked, frowning. She knew how closely guarded I kept that information. Until Flynn, only three other people besides her knew. And I trusted them all implicitly.

“Or someone who figured it out and saw an opportunity,” I said.

“We believe whoever called coordinated with someone inside our organization,” Melissa continued. “We’re close to identifying our internal leak. When we do, I personally guarantee there will be consequences. ”

“That’s not enough,” I said, finding my voice again. “I need more than promises.”

“Which is why,” Melissa continued smoothly, “we’re prepared to offer you substantially improved terms.”

All I’d asked for was a resolution to this problem, not more money. Whatever they were offering wasn’t going to sway my decision.