Chapter 3The Starlet and the Spectre

After my little chat with Isabelle, I tracked down the show’s director and demanded the use of his satellite phone.

He stared at me as if I’d grown a second head. To be fair, less than an hour ago, I had twisted the head clean off his thousand-pound mechanical wolf.

I just stared back.

Three seconds later, he was handing me the phone like a holy relic.

The moment the call connected, I didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Jenna! That charity auction next month, the one on The Stratos. You have to get me in.”

The line went silent for a full thirty seconds. The only sound was the wind rustling through the jungle canopy. Just as I was about to lose my patience, my agent’s weary voice came through.

“Sweetheart. You mean the auction that sent you a gilded, hand-delivered invitation three weeks ago? The one you immediately ran through the office shredder because, and I quote, ‘attending a pointless social gathering is a criminal waste of my finite existence’?”

Right. That had happened.

At the time, the idea of sipping champagne and making small talk with a bunch of billionaires sounded less appealing than a root canal. Besides, Isabelle’s PR team had already flooded the blogs with stories about her being the “exclusive celebrity guest.” I had no desire to play second fiddle and give her a free publicity boost.

I cleared my throat, my tone shifting from demanding to syrupy sweet. “Right. About that. I know I was wrong, Jenna, you know I’m impulsive! Please don’t be mad.” I took a breath. “Out of curiosity, what was the appearance fee they offered?”

Jenna’s sigh was heavy enough to be felt across continents. “One million dollars.”

I didn’t hesitate. “A waste of my existence? Who cares! For a million bucks, I’d sell my soul and do a little dance while I’m at it! Jenna, you’re the best. Make it happen!”

Jenna…

Declan Shaw… Dylan Scott…

I knew the odds of it being a coincidence were astronomical. I knew it was impossible. But deep inside me, in a place I thought had long turned to ash, a tiny, stubborn ember flickered back to life.

Even if there was only a one-in-a-billion chance.

I had to see for myself.