Friday is a freak show of epic proportions as representatives and lawyers of all kinds descend on the house, turning it from a vacation home to a battle station. It’s early evening and no one has had a drop to drink—which maybe we should reconsider. There have been no celebrations. No work. Just repurposing the mansion’s game room to host a cutthroat team of entertainment professionals.
My dad and the entire band are here as we greet Wolf’s label rep, his publicist, a legal rep from the label, and Wolf’s lawyer and his associate, who drew up the original contract in question. Five professionals coming together to put a stop to Crawley and Destiny before they can revel in what they set out to destroy—at least, I hope.
Wolf and I spent the earlier part of the day talking with my dad at the studio. The band had some cleanup work to do on the song, but the rest of the time was spent filling everyone in on the drama and preparing for the long night ahead.
My dad is convinced Crawley’s ship is sunk in more ways than one. He’s done for. Our mission now is to come up with the best approach to end him and get back what’s ours. He’s an idiot for thinking he could destroy Wolf’s career and steal from us. Using my mother, no less. And in the fallout, Destiny will be left in the dust.
But there are still so many questions. Things we need to understand before we make our next move.
First, who allowed Crawley to rewrite the terms of the original contract? Obviously Wolf wouldn’t agree to something like that, and any judge would see right through it. But why didn’t Wolf’s legal team catch it?
Even then, doesn’t the contract Wolf signed through the label override the old contract? If not, why wasn’t a new contract drawn between Crawley and the band once the band signed with the label?
And finally, the most perplexing question of all: how did Crawley and Destiny become allies in this dangerous game they’re both playing?
Questions and answers are flying around the room as the legal team reads all versions of the contracts line-by-line to see what was changed and when. And by whom. That might be the most important piece of information here.
My dad sits with me at the opposite end of the room as Wolf. We’re speaking to Davis, my dad’s attorney, as he reviews the latest three-song deal I made with Wolf.
And once again, I have to explain why I wanted no compensation. This, apparently hurts our case, because it leaves me with no monetary tie to the situation at all and a record of my agreeing to relinquishing my rights, giving me zero leverage and zero claim to what’s mine. And Wolf’s. Even Davis admits he understands Crawley’s argument that the songbook is now his—because some of the songs were co-written with Wolf.
My head hurts, and I place it into my palms as my elbows rest on the table. My dad wraps a strong arm around me and squeezes. “Stop thinking you did something wrong here, Lyric. You may not have claim to what you signed over to Wolf, but that songbook is yours. Same with the original songs she took from you and made millions off of.”
“What original songs?” Davis asks, leaning in, forehead crinkling as he waits for my response.
I vaguely remember meeting Davis before when I was younger, but he’s changed so much he almost looks like a different man. With white hair, light gray eyes, and tan, leathery skin, he’s intimidating at first glance. I guess that’s a good thing.
My dad turns toward me. “Is it okay if we talk to Davis about this? Destiny’s label already knows.”
I nod. I have nothing to hide anymore. Nothing is more important than getting Wolf his songs back, even if that means outing Destiny for the record she plagiarized—and outing myself for letting her get away with it.
My dad goes on to explain my mom’s betrayal just as he remembers it, letting me fill in the gaps. The only reason he knew about it to begin with is because I confessed to Doug at work right after the album came out and I’d realized what I fool I had been to believe she meant well.
Doug was livid, understandably, and he wanted to get my father involved. I was okay with it at first—until Destiny threatened to end his career. That’s when I called everything off and told my dad to stay out of it. I could live without my songs. What I couldn’t live with was being the cause of my parents putting each other through hell.
“Who else knows about these recordings?” Davis asks. “You said Destiny’s label knows.”
I look at my dad, and he sighs. “Yeah, I told Destiny’s label when I went to LA yesterday. They’re letting Destiny go—at least, that’s what they say.”
Davis nods. “Got it. I need to make a few phone calls.” He looks around at the madness. “In private.”
I nod and stand, leading him down the hall to my makeshift office and switch on the light. “Take your time.”
“Thank you, Lyric.”
For a shark on the job, Davis’ presence is calming and very much welcome right now. The tension in this house could slice a brick.
I head for the stairs, wanting food and distractions. And possibly a stiff drink. I’m almost to the staircase when a dark, shadowy figure moving through the hallway makes me freeze. Whoever it is appears to be searching for something. When the figure’s head angles toward me slightly, I realize it belongs to the associate on Wolf’s legal team. He looks to be around my age—and permanently nervous.
I smile to ease the tension. “Can I help you find something? This house is massive; I know.”
He jumps and swivels to face me, his eyes widening. His mouth opens, then closes, his gaze fixed on me as he swallows.
“Bathroom is taken,” he says finally. “Is there another?”
I smile, pushing away my unease. He may be awkward, but he’s harmless. “I’m heading upstairs. There are a few up there. You can follow me.”
We get to the main floor, and I point him toward the nearest bathroom. Then I busy myself making snacks and pouring drinks for our guests. It’s a nice break from the chaos downstairs.
I’m just about done loading up a tray when my dad runs upstairs with Davis and Wolf on his tail.
“Lyric,” my dad says, his voice almost frantic, “where are the recordings you have of your original songs? Do you have them on you?”
My heart speeds up. “No. They’re in Seattle at my storage locker.” I look around at the faces, wondering where this is going. “Why?”
“We need those tapes in our possession before we move forward,” Davis says. I wait, still trying to understand. “I just got off the phone with my connection at Wicked, Wolf’s label. They mentioned the recordings to Soaring, trying to get them to give up their pursuit of Wolf’s songs. Destiny and Crawley were in the room during the call. They heard everything. If Destiny gets her hands on those tapes, we lose the only evidence we have.”
My face falls. I look to my dad, who looks as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “What happens now?”
Davis looks between us all. “We need those tapes in our possession to win this thing.”
My dad grabs my hand and squeezes. “Do you have someone you can trust in Seattle who can overnight the package, pumpkin? Better yet, do you know someone who can get the recordings and fly here with them? Tonight?”
My immediate answer is no. But I rack my brain just in case. Trust has never been an easy thing for me. Not after my dad sent me away, my mom stole from me, and then Tony cheated on me with my best friend. Do I trust anyone in Seattle enough to give them access to something so important? I don’t think I do.
I’m about to shake my head when Wolf comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Babe, what about Deloris? Doesn’t she live in Seattle now?”
Deloris. My heart skips around in my chest, and I widen my eyes. Oh, my God. Deloris.
“Yeah! I mean, I could ask her. She has a job. I don’t know if she could get away, but I could ask.”
“And you trust this Deloris?” Davis asks. “We can’t afford to take any risks right now.”
I nod heavily. “Yes. I trust her with my life.”
Davis nods. “Okay, then give her a call. If she agrees, I’ll arrange the flight. You’ll just have to tell her how to access the tapes and pick her up when she arrives.”
I reach for my phone and search for her number, still not exactly sure what’s happening. “What do my original recordings have to do with Wolf’s songs, though? They’ll prove Destiny stole from me when I was seventeen, but that still leaves Crawley.”
Davis shakes his head. “It’s all the proof we need. Not for court, but this is how we encourage Destiny to work against Crawley. Think about it. If Destiny gets outed, she’ll lose all credibility. No one will want to work with her. But we can cut a deal with her if she gives up Crawley. He won’t even be able to start an indie label in his mom’s basement with the reputation he’ll earn once everyone knows what he’s been up to. And that’s how Crawley loses his leverage, and then he will return your songbook.” He looks at Wolf. “As for the rest, we’re working on it.”
My head goes fuzzy with his words. I hope he’s right.
With a deep sigh, I pick up my phone to call Deloris. The moment her voice comes over the line, I start crying.
“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her sweet, velvety voice pours over me just like I remember. It hurts how much I miss this woman. A woman who was more mother to me than my own flesh and blood.
I wipe my eyes and take a breath. “I’ll explain everything. I promise. But I need to ask you a favor. Something has happened—is happening. You’re the only one I could think to call. You’re the only one there I can trust.”
“Sweetie, take a breath and just ask. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
I laugh between sobs. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you.”
She laughs right back, her voice just as melodic as I remember. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll still do whatever I can to help you.”
With that reassurance, I take a deep breath to steady my voice and let it out. “Do you think you could fly to Miami? Tonight? If you can, there’s something I need you to do. I’m so sorry to be asking you this.”
“Don’t be silly, Lyric. You have nothing to be sorry for. I have the kids tonight, but I could leave here in the morning as long as I’m back first thing Monday.”
My eyes widen, and a relieved breath leaves me in a whoosh. Deloris was never the type to questions my motives. She’s always trusted me to do the right thing. And she knows I never ask for help unless I really need it.
I cover the mouthpiece and relay what she said to Davis. Everyone scrambles into action to plan for Deloris’ mission. The storage unit is locked by a passcode, so I tell her to call me in the morning so I can give it to her when she’s at the facility. At this point, I don’t feel comfortable transferring that information over phone or email.
She’s booked on the first flight from Sea-Tac, which will get her to Miami International by eight twenty-five in the evening. That’s a lot later than we wanted, but it will have to do.
We decide not to tell the others our plan. This is safer staying between us for now. In the meantime, we’ll let the rest of the team work out how to prove that Wolf’s original contracts were illegally modified by Crawley.
It’s nearly ten o’clock when I start to head back downstairs with a tray of fresh fruit and veggie slices. Exhaustion slows me down a little, making me jump when I see a figure rounding the corner from the hallway. We collide, food tumbling from the tray as it crashes to the ground and I look up, wide-eyed and heart pounding.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, stooping down to fill the tray with the fallen goods. It’s the associate from Wolf’s legal team. Has he been up here the entire time?
I stumble back, my side pressed against the hallway wall as I examine the odd man with his long, light brown hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and rosy cheeks. “It’s okay,” I say, my voice catching a little in my throat when I notice the sweat beading on the man’s forehead.
He’s still stacking fruit and veggies on the tray while I examine him. He’s shaking, like he’s afraid I’m going to punish him for spilling veggies all over the floor. What’s his problem?
“Thanks, Lyric.” As sorry as I feel for the guy, the way he says my name as if we’re old friends drags a rake down my spine.
I dump the tray off in the kitchen and join Wolf and the rest of the band on the sofa downstairs in the game room. Wolf pulls me onto his lap and I curl up into a ball, letting him hold me.
But my eyes never leave the strange, jittery man, who only seems stranger as he takes a seat beside his boss. He’s not helping him. At least, it doesn’t appear that way. Instead, his leg jiggles anxiously and his eyes wander around the room.
“You okay, babe?” Wolf asks in my ear.
I nod, but he finds my focal point and now is watching too. “Guy’s kind of creepy, yeah? What did you say his name was again?” My heart is pounding like it’s leading a freaking marching band.
“Cole Matthews,” Wolf responds easily. “He’s been with the team as long as I’ve known them. He was just an intern back then.”
My eyes widen, and I look up to face Wolf. Does he hear himself? “What? As in the same legal aid that tried to pass off Crawley’s updated legal terms to your label to own the rights to the songs I gifted to you?”
Wolf gives me curious eyes. “Yeah. Doug says he’s a bumbling idiot. Why? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. He seems awfully nervous, don’t you think?”
Wolf lets out an airy laugh. “Oh, that. He’s a fan, babe. Don’t judge. Almost shit his pants when I shook his hand earlier. I think he has a crush on you, too. He keeps staring at you.”
I look at Cole, who stares down at the contract beneath his pen with a wrinkled brow. He seems to be concentrating on something important. And for a second, I decide that maybe Wolf is right. Maybe he is just a superfan who happens to be the same one who missed the fact that Crawley tried to steal my songs from Wolf.
What am I thinking, anyway? That Cole had something to do with the legal revisions from years ago? He was just an intern. There’s no way any lawyer would put that much trust into a kid.
Just then, Bradley from the Wicked’s legal team stands and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Crawley is mentioned in the label’s agreement,” he announces. “A small section on page 44.”
“We already know this, Bradley,” says Fredrick, Wolf’s lawyer. He looks annoyed, like this is all a waste of his time. “The problem is,” Fredrick explains, “that it just notes his base salary from when the contract was signed with the label and says the contracts will be renewed in five years. That doesn’t override the fact that the band made a separate deal with him prior to this contract being signed.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Bradley pulls up the original agreement, grinning, then throws it on the table for Frederick to view. “Read who the agreement was established between.”
Frederick rolls his eyes. “Beowulf Chapman and Lionel Crawley. So what?”
“So,” Bradley explains, “the original agreement states that if Lionel Crawley is fired by Wolf, then he is owed. No one fired Crawley during the time these contract terms were valid.”
My dad jumps in, grabbing the document from Fredrick’s hands. “You’re right. Crawley was never fired by Wolf during the terms of this contract. Simple as that. Crawley was written into the label’s agreement when the label became his employer.” My dad looks up. “Meaning the old contract is void. Wolf’s music is protected under the label’s new contract, and there isn’t a thing Crawley can do to fight that.”
Bradley beams and takes the document from my dad’s hands. “That’s correct. There is nothing binding Wolf, the person, to Crawley any longer. In simple terms, Wolf may have kicked Crawley off the tour, but it was the label who terminated his employment for a list of acceptable reasons. Manipulating legal documents, unprofessionalism, and insubordination to name a few. Wolf and the label are in the clear.”
The room lights up with excitement. Wolf’s arm tightens around me, and I turn in to hug him hard. My heart pounds in my chest. Can it seriously be this easy? Is it over? I can’t be so quick to assume we’ve won this thing yet, but it sure sounds like everything is going our way.
As celebration consumes the room, I’m rooted to my seat. Instead of joining in, I find myself examining Cole, who has stepped away from the excitement to take a call on the other side of the room, I can’t shake the feeling that this battle isn’t over. Maybe I’ll feel differently once my songbook is safely in my hands. I’d also love to see a new contract drawn up with bulletproof protection against assholes like Crawley.
My phone buzzes on the table beside me. I grab it when I see Doug’s name and excuse myself to an empty room down the hall, shutting the door behind me.
“Hey, Doug,” I answer. I want nothing more than to fill him in on everything that’s just gone down. But maybe I shouldn’t. There’s still so much to be done, and I wouldn’t want to compromise any of our plans. Not that Doug would tell a soul. He’s one of the good ones.
There’s a crackle on the other end of the line, some quick breaths, and then a familiar voice breaking through the static. Air freezes in my throat as I listen.
“Lyric, it’s me.” Tony’s voice is low and rushed, immediately filling me with a boil of anger.
“Goddammit, Tony.” I hiss into the phone, livid that he still won’t give up. And now that I’ve blocked his new number, he’s calling me with Doug’s phone. “Don’t you ever listen? Leave. Me. Alone.”
“Fuck. Lyric, stop. I need to talk to you.”
I pinch my noise to control my anger, fill my lungs with air and then shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, Tony. Just—no. Whatever you want to talk about, there’s no point. It’s over.”
He starts to talk again, but I’m faster. “I’m hanging up. I can’t block this number because it’s Doug’s, but if you try to contact me again, I will get a restraining order, and I won’t hesitate to spill your every misdemeanor to the press. Goodbye.”
I power down my phone and am shoving it my pocket when the door opens and Wolf enters quietly,
“Babe.”
I feel my body shaking from my brief call with Tony, but I try to contain it for Wolf’s sake. The last thing we need is more drama getting in the middle of all this chaos. But I can’t shake the unsettled feeling that has stayed with me since I first laid eyes on that legal aid. I’m worried that there’s something we’re all missing. Something Crawley will blindside us with. And I’m terrified this won’t be as easy as we all think.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Wolf says gently.
I nod, no energy to argue. I’m tired. Everyone thinks the battle is over, but I’m not so sure it is.
Wolf leads me to our bathroom and leaves me in front of the shower while he starts it, testing the water and then turning to me.
He must sense my exhaustion because he takes my long dress and lifts it above my head, careful to avoid snagging my hair. When he’s tossed it aside, he reaches around to unclasp my bra, gently sliding it over my shoulders, his fingers gliding along my skin until the cloth drops to the floor.
His kisses are soft, his lips gently kneading mine and shaking me from the inside out. Fabric lifts from my hips and slides down my thighs as Wolf removes my panties. He lowers himself to a kneeling position, and his eyes lock on mine as he places a kiss on my pelvis. My skin warms where his mouth touches, and as he stands again, my entire body buzzes.
Wolf moves me into the shower, continuing to be gentle. Loving. He’s always been able to read me, and he knows this is what I need right now. He places me under the hot water, getting my hair wet before lathering it with shampoo. He massages my scalp with his strong hands, his strength comforting, making me feel every bit as cherished as I always do with him.
He takes a washcloth and rubs gentle circles on my skin, starting between my shoulder blades and working his way down to the small of my back. A kiss lands on my shoulder, almost distracting me from the hand moving around my waist to my stomach, lightly brushing the skin below my left breast. Nothing about it is sexual, but it’s all so intimate still, and I never want him to stop.
I’m reminded once again how perfect we are together. How I never realized how much I was missing until Wolf showed up in my life. How my life was just a series of rock tours, glass windows, and empty, convenient love. And how the one man I should have never fallen in love with managed to claim a piece of my soul.
I turn to face him, swallowing when I see the way he’s watching me, his caramel eyes heavy with love and yearning. But for once, the yearning isn’t for sex. We’re far more than that. We’ve become two people in a war that has the power to rip us apart, but we’ll only ever be fighting together.
My hand moves to his heart and I lean in, angling my chin to grip his eyes with mine. “No matter what happens, we’re going to be okay,” I say with conviction. We’ve already come to this conclusion, but I’m just now starting to grasp the sentiment with my whole heart.
Wolf nods. “We will always be okay.” He tips my chin up with his fingers, making my heart soar in my chest. When his lips find mine, he’s weaving his fingers through my hair and deepening the connection.
He knows what I know. Nothing else matters, as long as we’re together.