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.

Katy's body reacted before her brain could process the danger.

She shoved both hands against the hard muscle of Arther's chest and pushed herself backward. She broke his grip on her waist and stumbled a step away.

She locked her knees to stop them from shaking. She forced her spine completely straight.

Arther let his hand fall. He slid both hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. His movements were slow, relaxed, and entirely too confident.

Katy stared at his chin, refusing to meet his eyes. She dug her thumbnail into her index finger.

"My apologies," Katy said. Her voice was perfectly flat, a textbook Hollywood PR response.

Arther tilted his head slightly to the left. His dark eyes dropped from her eyes down to her blood-red lips. He stared at her mouth for one second too long before looking back up.

"It's fine," Arther said. His voice was low, a physical rumble in the quiet hallway. "Miss Riddle."

The formal name felt like a knife twisting in her stomach. Katy swallowed the lump in her throat. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a fake, polite smile.

Footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway. Two stagehands carrying a ladder turned the corner, walking toward them.

Panic spiked in Katy's chest. She immediately shifted her weight, leaning closer to the wall, creating a massive physical gap between her and her husband.

Arther watched her move away. A dark shadow crossed his eyes.

He took a half-step backward, giving her the center of the hallway. It was a perfectly polite, gentlemanly gesture for the approaching crew members to see.

Katy gave him a stiff nod of gratitude. She took a step forward, desperate to run away.

As she walked past him, the physical distance between them vanished for a fraction of a second.

Arther leaned down. His mouth brushed past her ear.

"The black velvet looks beautiful on you," he whispered.

Katy's feet stopped moving. Heat exploded across her ear and rushed down her neck. Her brain scrambled, desperately searching for a safe response.

She turned her head. She looked him in the eye, her expression completely blank.

"Thank you," Katy said loudly, ensuring the stagehands could hear. "Your performance on stage was very impressive."

Arther raised an eyebrow. He looked bored by her robotic answer.

He took one step forward, instantly destroying the safe distance she had created. He lowered his voice so only she could hear.

"Miss Riddle, you seem to always be avoiding me," Arther said softly, his tone perfectly polite but layered with a probing edge. "Have I done something to offend you?"

Katy's eyes went wide. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"I am avoiding a scandal," Katy snapped back, her voice shaking slightly. "I don't need the paparazzi writing fake stories."

Arther let out a low, dark laugh. The sound vibrated against Katy's skin.

He stared down at her. His eyes were intense, stripping away all her defenses.

"Is that right?" Arther said softly. "I could have sworn I heard Mr. Vance joking earlier that the way you were looking at me was... rather unique."

The blood drained from Katy's face. Her fingertips went completely numb. The hallway spun.

Did he know? Did he find the Twitter account? Did he see her looking at him?

She dug her nails into her palms to stop her hands from shaking. She forced a cold, mocking laugh out of her throat.

"You are incredibly arrogant," Katy sneered.

Arther didn't flinch. He just looked at her. The intensity in his gaze was suffocating.

The stagehands walked past them, muttering apologies for taking up space. The spell broke.

Arther's face instantly shifted back to the cold, untouchable Best Actor. He gave the crew a polite nod. He turned his back on Katy and walked down the hallway.

Katy stood frozen. She watched his broad shoulders disappear around the corner.

Her legs gave out. She leaned heavily against the wall. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling her heart trying to beat its way out of her ribcage.

He was just joking. He had to be joking.

Katy smoothed down the velvet skirt. She locked her jaw and walked back toward the ballroom.

She sat down at the VIP table. She picked up a fresh glass of champagne. Her hand shook so violently the liquid spilled over the rim and dripped onto her fingers.

She didn't know that in the shadows of the hallway corner, Arther was still standing there. He watched her walk away, a dark, victorious smile spreading across his face.

The heavy door of the black Maybach slammed shut. The noise of the paparazzi screaming her name outside was instantly cut off.

Katy kicked off her stilettos. They hit the floorboard with a dull thud. She collapsed against the soft leather seat.

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers hard against her throbbing temples. Arther's voice echoed in her head. I thought you were a fan.

In the front passenger seat, Paige let out a sharp, panicked gasp.

Katy opened her eyes. She glared at the back of Paige's head. "What now?"

Paige's face was completely white. Her hands shook as she passed an iPad over the center console into the back seat.

"It's bad," Paige stuttered.

Katy snatched the iPad. She looked at the screen. Her lungs stopped pulling in air.

At the very top of the X trending list, highlighted in bright red, was a single hashtag: KatyRiddleArtherKnowles.

Right beneath it was a video with over two million views.

Katy's trembling finger tapped the play button.

It was a high-definition video shot from the shadows of the ballroom. It showed Arther on stage. Then, the camera zoomed in drastically, focusing entirely on Katy's face in the audience.

The video had been slowed down. A romantic, slow song played over the footage.

On the screen, Katy's mask was completely gone. Her eyes were wide, tracking Arther's every movement. The raw, obsessive adoration in her expression was impossible to hide. She looked like a woman starved, staring at water.

Then, the video cut to the final second. The camera angle shifted slightly, catching the glare of the chandelier. As Katy raised her hand to adjust her silver strap, the lens perfectly focused on her wrist. Peeking out from beneath a massive diamond cuff was a frayed, black braided string bracelet with a distinct silver bead. It was a private, handmade token she had worn for years.

Katy dropped the iPad. It hit the leather seat and bounced. The world tilted on its axis.

She stared at the ceiling of the car. Her stomach violently cramped.

The comment section was a warzone. Millions of people were shipping the "Ice Queen and the Cold King."

Katy grabbed her phone from her clutch. Her fingers fumbled over the screen. She dialed Julian.

He answered immediately. "I know. The PR team is already on it."

"Take it down," Katy screamed. Her voice cracked, raw with terror. "Erase it. Now."

"Katy, listen to me," Julian argued. "This is free marketing. Your new movie drops next month. The internet loves this. We should let it ride for a few days."

"I said take it down!" Katy roared. Her chest heaved. "I do not need to use a man for clicks! I refuse to look like a desperate groupie!"

"It's just a rumor-"

"His fans are insane!" Katy lied, her voice shaking. "I don't want them attacking me. Pay whatever it takes. Get the platform to kill the tag."

Julian sighed. "Fine. I'll make the call."

Katy threw her phone onto the seat. She grabbed her hair and pulled, the physical pain grounding her spiraling panic.

If Arther saw this video. If he saw that look on her face.

Worse. If he saw that bracelet. If he connected that frayed string to the crazy fan who had dropped it at his feet five years ago. Her entire life would be over.

Paige reached back and offered a plastic bottle of water. "It's going to be okay, Miss Riddle."

Katy snatched the bottle. She didn't open it. She squeezed the plastic so hard it crunched loudly in the quiet car.

"Drive faster," Katy ordered the driver.

The Maybach sped up, tearing through the dark streets.

Katy picked up the iPad again. She refreshed the page. The hashtag dropped from number one to number four. Julian's money was working.

She let out a shaky breath. She was safe.

She had no idea that across the city, the video was already playing on a different screen.