Page 90 of Graves

“A paparazzo claims he saw you with this man.”

“Maybe he lives in the same building,” I say with a shrug. “Look… since I already have the chance to speak to the press… It’s one thing that you’ve been hounding me for three weeks and camping outside my place, but harassing my neighbors and the whole neighborhood has to stop.”

The interview is far from over, but at least the hardest topics are done. I don’t feel like I completely bombed, but the longer it goes, the more it drains my energy and confidence. I miss having Liam, Mike, or Sam as my interview backup—someone to jump in when I freeze. Plus, the clock is ticking closer to showtime. I want to retreat and prepare, but instead I’m stuck here answering questions like I’m on trial.

As soon as the interview ends, I thank Angela politely and leave the room. Leslie hurries after me, trying to convince me it went well.

But I only want one thing.

I disappear into the bathroom, lock the door, and throw back two more pills.

18

—

Koh

“Tell me you didn’t fight.”

One look at my brother’s sweaty torso tells me everything that’s about to come out of his mouth is a lie.

“I didn’t fight,” Levi says with a diplomatic wave of his hand. “Just a light workout.”

“You don’t sweat like that from a light workout!” I snap.

“Everything’s cool, Aniki,” he says casually and starts to drop into the armchair.

“Don’t even think about it,” Olena, his twin sister, growls from the desk without taking her eyes off the bookkeeping.

Levi stops himself from planting his sweaty body on the leather chair, rolls his eyes, and wipes the sweat off his forehead with a towel before pacing a few steps.

“Let me see,” I say, pointing at his stomach.

Without hesitation, he peels off his white shirt and shows off his rock-hard six-pack. I set my training bag on the floor, perch on the arm of the leather chair, and peel back the bandage.

“Looks good,” I say, but I still head to the first-aid kit for disinfectant and fresh dressings.

“You stitched it. Of course it looks good.”

“I said no working out. The wound is only three days old. For God’s sake, why can’t you just do what you’re told for once?”

A soft laugh comes from the desk. “Levi doing what he’s told?” Olena chuckles. “Unless it involves killing someone, you’re talking to a wall.”

I dab along the stitches with a gauze soaked in disinfectant, clean the wound, then wipe the sweat off his stomach and apply a fresh bandage.

“And ease up on the training,” I warn him as I put the supplies away.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. It’s just a scratch. Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Oh really?” I ask in disbelief, poking him in the side with my index finger.

Levi flinches and yelps. “Ow! What the hell?”

“Doesn’t hurt anymore, huh?” I mock and settle into the brown leather armchair, satisfied.

“What are you even doing here?” he asks, annoyed, and sits in the chair across from me, grabbing the remote from the coffee table between us.

As he leans forward, he grimaces in pain and presses a hand to his side.