Page 92 of Ravaged For You

“After the performance tonight, I want you two to go on a nice romantic date somewhere,” Lucas says. “I’ll find you a spot. I’ll make sure the paparazzi are there to snap photos of you two. What do you think?”

I shrug. “I signed a contract.”

“Good. You guys have got to act all loved up, alright? Are you two in?”

Axel and I both turn to each other at the same time. There’s a slight smirk on his face. It’s the Axel I know.

“Yeah,” my fake boyfriend says, speaking for both of us. “We’re in.”

40

MADDIE

True to Lucas’ word, the paparazzi are waiting for us outside Vancouver’s most elite restaurant. Waiting for the perfect shot of the most talked-about couple on planet earth.

Me and Axel Stoll.

As I step out of the limo – the third I’ve been in just today – I immediately spot the leader of the pack of photographers lining up for us. I never got his name the last – and first – time I met him outside Axel’s hotel, but I know who he is alright. He’s greasy, just as I remember. The same man who confessed to me that he was the one who set up Axel’s sex tape. The one who spoke to me the day before I got famous. The one who scratched his messy stubble and gloated that he had Axel.

Well, now he clearly knows who I am. I can practically see the cartoon dollar signs in his eyes as he glares at me from the pavement.

“I remember you,” he growls at me. I try to ignore him, but he pushes up against me. His stench is overwhelming. I want to cough. “You thought you were having fun at my expense, huh? A little joke before you got famous?”

Shit.

But Axel is already here beside me.

“Come on,” Axel replies to the man. “Let us pass.”

The paparazzo is undeterred. “You snuck past me once, Miss Maddie Leaver, but that was before I learned who you are. This time you ain’t so lucky. I want an upskirt photo of you. I really want one. Can’t you give one to me? How about you go back to your car and let me take one of you, huh? You wouldn’t believe the demand there is for pictures of your pussy.”

Axel flies in for the rescue.

“Fuck. Off.”

My fake boyfriend takes my hand and pulls me inside the restaurant as flashes from the waiting paparazzi’s cameras light up around us.

“I need a minute,” I say, breathless, once we make it safely inside the exclusive establishment.

“You okay?” Axel asks me, concern on his face.

“I’m fine, just need a second to get over the little fact that somehow I’ve gotten incredibly famous overnight,” I reply.

“It was wrong for him to say that kind of shit,” Axel seethes. “I should go out there and show him a piece of me for disrespecting you like that.”

I squeeze his hand.

“Trust me,” I reply. “I’ve handled greasy men who’ve said bad comments to me in the past. Besides, I’ve met that guy before.”

“You’ve met him before?”

“Yep.”

“Wow, I’m sorry. That’s Harold, he’s a real dick. He’s the worst of the worse.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“The rest of Ravaged hate him as well, and we’ve gotten to know him intimately over the years. He’s prolific, to say the least. There isn’t a dirty method he won’t try to get uncompromising and exclusive photos of celebrities. He’s infamous with famous people. A real character.”