The RV idled in the dark alleyway behind the Staples Center.

Katy pushed the door open. Her sneakers hit the wet asphalt. She pulled her black face mask up higher over her nose and walked into the shadows of the fire lane, searching for the hidden VIP entrance.

She pressed her shoulder against the damp brick wall. She moved slowly, hiding from the massive crowd of screaming fans gathered on the main street.

Her personal phone vibrated violently in her pocket. The sharp, obnoxious ringtone echoed off the brick walls.

Katy flinched. Her heart leaped into her throat. She dug her hand into her pocket and yanked the phone out, desperate to silence it.

The screen glowed in the dark. The name 'Rex Vance' flashed across the glass.

Katy's jaw clenched. A wave of pure disgust rolled through her stomach.

She wanted to hit decline. But Rex was a loose cannon. If she ignored him, he would run to the tabloids and make up a story. She pressed her thumb against her index finger, digging the nail into her skin, and answered the call.

"What do you want, Rex?" she snapped.

"Someone sounds grumpy," Rex's arrogant, mocking voice poured through the speaker.

He didn't waste time. He immediately brought up the box office numbers for her latest indie film. He laughed, the sound dripping with malicious joy over her failure.

Katy let out a cold laugh. She didn't hesitate. She brought up the photos leaked last month of him stumbling out of a nightclub with two different women.

The line went dead silent. Katy could hear his heavy, angry breathing. She had hit the nerve.

Rex cleared his throat. His voice dropped lower, taking on a smug, secretive tone.

"I just got my VIP pass for the Hollywood Gala tomorrow night," Rex bragged.

Katy rolled her eyes in the dark. "Congratulations. You finally begged your way into a room full of people who hate you. I'm hanging up."

"Arther Knowles is the surprise guest," Rex said quickly.

Katy stopped breathing.

The brick wall against her back suddenly felt freezing cold. Her brain completely flatlined. The insult she had ready died on her tongue.

Her hand gripped the phone so hard her knuckles ached. Her lungs refused to expand.

"Hello? Katy?" Rex laughed. "Are you jealous you won't be in the same room as the Best Actor?"

Katy snapped back to reality. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. The sharp pain grounded her. She forced her vocal cords to relax.

"I don't care about fake social events," Katy said. Her voice was perfectly flat. "And I certainly don't care who attends them."

She pulled the phone away from her ear and hit the red button. She shoved the phone deep into her pocket.

She looked left. She looked right. The alley was empty.

Katy's knees buckled. She slid down the wet brick wall and crouched on the dirty ground.

She pressed both hands over her mouth. Her shoulders shook violently. She screamed into her palms, the sound completely muffled by her hands.

Arther was going to the Gala. She could see her husband. In public. Tomorrow night.

Katy shot up from the ground. The fear in her posture vanished. Her spine straightened.

She pulled out her work phone. She dialed her agent, Julian Croft.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Get me a ticket to the Gala tomorrow night," Katy ordered.

"What?" Julian sounded completely lost. "Katy, you explicitly told me yesterday to reject the invitation. You said you hated the organizers."

"I changed my mind," Katy lied smoothly. "I just heard Anna from Vogue is going to be there, and she's actively scouting for the September issue cover. I am not letting Isabella snatch that spot. Get me a seat at the front."

Julian sighed heavily into the phone. "Fine. I'll call them. But you owe me."

Katy hung up. She took a deep breath of the damp alley air. She adjusted the brim of her hat.

She walked out of the shadows and merged into the massive sea of screaming fans, heading straight for the ticket gates.

The flashbulbs blinded her.

Katy stepped out of the black limousine. She walked down the red carpet, her silver sequined backless gown catching every light. She followed the usher through the gold-trimmed hallway and stepped into the massive Gala ballroom.

She found her seat at the VIP table in the very front row.

The crystal chandelier above her cast a bright, unforgiving light. Katy picked up a flute of champagne. She plastered a flawless, commercial smile on her face for the cameras tracking her every move.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rex sitting at the next table. He raised his glass to her, a nasty smirk on his face. Katy stared right through him, turning her head away.

The ballroom lights suddenly cut out. The loud chatter died instantly.

The giant LED screen on the stage lit up. A fast-paced, aggressive video montage played.

The host walked out to the center microphone. He dragged out the introduction, his voice booming through the speakers, announcing the mystery guest.

Katy's fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne glass. Her manicured nails dug into the fragile glass. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

A sharp, ice-blue spotlight hit the center of the stage. Thick white smoke rolled out from the floorboards.

The hydraulic lift slowly rose. Arther Knowles stood in the center of the smoke. He wore a custom-tailored black suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly.

The entire room erupted. Applause thundered through the ballroom. A-list actresses at the tables behind Katy stood up, clapping wildly.

Katy felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. All the air left her lungs. Arther looked untouchable. Cold. Perfect. Her brain completely short-circuited.

Arther walked up to the microphone. "Good evening," he said.

His deep, raspy voice vibrated through the massive speakers. A physical shiver ran down Katy's spine.

The corners of her mouth twitched. Her facial muscles fought against her control. She wanted to smile. She wanted to scream like the fans outside.

She bit down on the tip of her tongue. Hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. The pain forced the smile down.

Katy lifted the champagne glass and took a slow sip. The freezing liquid hit her stomach, cooling the heat rushing through her veins.

Isabella, sitting diagonally behind her, leaned forward.

"His tailor needs to be fired," Isabella whispered loudly. "That lapel is tragic."

Katy turned her head slowly. Her eyes were dead.

"Your stylist put you in a dress from two seasons ago, Isabella," Katy said, her voice dripping with ice. "I don't think you should be talking about tragedy."

Isabella's face turned bright red. She snapped her mouth shut and sat back in her chair.

On stage, Arther began a short monologue. His dark eyes scanned the VIP tables.

His gaze swept toward Katy's section.

Panic seized her chest. Katy immediately dropped her head. She reached down and pretended to smooth out an invisible wrinkle on her silver dress.

As she looked down, she noticed a red light blinking in the shadows to her right. A paparazzi camera lens was pointed directly at her face.

Cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Katy forced her spine straight. She locked her jaw and stared at the stage with the bored, critical expression of a rival actor.

Arther finished his speech. He bowed his head slightly. The room exploded into applause again.

Katy clapped her hands together. Her movements were small, stiff, and completely devoid of emotion.

Arther turned around and walked off the stage, disappearing behind the heavy velvet curtains.

Katy let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Her silver dress felt heavy and suffocating against her damp skin. She set the full glass of champagne down on the table.

She stood up. She nodded politely to the director sitting next to her.

She grabbed the heavy fabric of her skirt and walked toward the side exit of the ballroom. She needed to get to the backstage dressing rooms.

Her steps looked elegant, but she was walking dangerously fast. She needed to escape the cameras. She needed to breathe.

She pushed through the heavy double doors. They clicked shut behind her, cutting off the noise of the ballroom. Katy leaned against the wall and exhaled a long, shaky breath.

Katy walked down the long, carpeted hallway of the backstage area. Her high heels sank into the thick fabric. She stopped in front of the door with a gold star and her name printed on it.

She reached for the brass handle.

The door to the dressing room right next to hers swung open. Rex Vance stumbled out. He held a half-empty glass of whiskey.

He saw Katy. A greasy smile spread across his face. He whistled loudly and stepped directly into her path.

Katy rolled her eyes. "Move, Rex." She pushed her hand against her door handle.

Rex slammed his palm against the doorframe, blocking her arm. He leaned in close. He smelled like cheap alcohol and expensive cologne.

"I saw the way you were looking at Arther out there," Rex whispered, his voice mocking. "You looked like you wanted to eat him alive."

Katy's heart stopped. Ice water flooded her veins. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot.

She forced her face to remain completely blank. She dug her thumbnail into the side of her index finger.

"Are you hallucinating because your last movie bombed?" Katy asked. Her voice was a flat, sharp blade. "Or do you just obsess over women who are out of your league?"

Rex's smirk vanished. The muscles in his jaw ticked. His eyes turned dark and angry.

"Watch your mouth, Riddle," Rex sneered. "You won't be on top forever. People fall hard in this town."

Katy let out a harsh, dismissive laugh. She raised her hand and slapped his arm away from her doorframe. The smack echoed in the hallway.

"At least I don't have to pour drinks for producers to get screen time," Katy said.

She pushed her door open, stepped inside, and slammed it shut in his face.

She heard Rex curse loudly. Something hit the wall outside. Katy leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door. She closed her eyes and dragged air into her burning lungs.

Aisling, her makeup artist, stood frozen in the corner of the room.

Katy opened her eyes. The fear was gone. The professional ice queen was back. She walked over to the vanity chair and sat down.

"Get me out of this silver thing," Katy ordered. "Put me in the black velvet. Now."

Aisling rushed forward. She unzipped the silver gown. Katy stepped out of it and pulled the heavy, strapless black velvet dress up her body. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin.

Katy looked at herself in the bright vanity mirror. She looked untouchable.

"Change the lip," Katy said.

Aisling wiped away the soft pink gloss. She painted Katy's lips a deep, aggressive blood red.

Katy stood up. She smoothed her hands down the velvet skirt. Not a single wrinkle.

She grabbed her black clutch from the table. She took a deep breath, preparing to walk back into the war zone.

Her hand gripped the door handle. Rex's words echoed in her skull. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive.

She ground her teeth together. She couldn't show a single crack in her armor.

Katy yanked the door open and took a massive step out into the hallway.

The lights in the corridor seemed dimmer. A massive wall of black fabric blocked her path.

She couldn't stop her momentum. Katy crashed hard into a solid, unyielding chest.

Her forehead slammed against a hard collarbone. A sharp pain shot through her skull. She let out a soft gasp as the impact sent her stumbling backward.

A strong, heavy hand shot out. Long fingers wrapped tightly around her waist. The grip stopped her fall instantly, pulling her back into the heat of the body she just hit.

The sharp, clean scent of cedarwood filled her lungs.

Katy's breath hitched. She knew that scent.

She slowly tilted her head up.

She stared straight into a pair of dark, bottomless eyes.

Arther Knowles stood there, looking down at her. His hand was still gripping her waist. A tiny, almost invisible smirk played on his lips.

Katy's brain shut down completely. Every wall she had just built shattered into a million pieces.