Genre Ranking
Get the APP HOT
The Secret Wife Of Hollywood's Monk
img img The Secret Wife Of Hollywood's Monk img Chapter 7 No.7
7 Chapters
Chapter 10 No.10 img
Chapter 11 No.11 img
Chapter 12 No.12 img
Chapter 13 No.13 img
Chapter 14 No.14 img
Chapter 15 No.15 img
Chapter 16 No.16 img
Chapter 17 No.17 img
Chapter 18 No.18 img
Chapter 19 No.19 img
Chapter 20 No.20 img
Chapter 21 No.21 img
Chapter 22 No.22 img
Chapter 23 No.23 img
Chapter 24 No.24 img
Chapter 25 No.25 img
Chapter 26 No.26 img
Chapter 27 No.27 img
Chapter 28 No.28 img
Chapter 29 No.29 img
Chapter 30 No.30 img
Chapter 31 No.31 img
Chapter 32 No.32 img
Chapter 33 No.33 img
Chapter 34 No.34 img
Chapter 35 No.35 img
Chapter 36 No.36 img
Chapter 37 No.37 img
Chapter 38 No.38 img
Chapter 39 No.39 img
Chapter 40 No.40 img
Chapter 41 No.41 img
Chapter 42 No.42 img
Chapter 43 No.43 img
Chapter 44 No.44 img
Chapter 45 No.45 img
Chapter 46 No.46 img
Chapter 47 No.47 img
Chapter 48 No.48 img
Chapter 49 No.49 img
Chapter 50 No.50 img
Chapter 51 No.51 img
Chapter 52 No.52 img
Chapter 53 No.53 img
Chapter 54 No.54 img
Chapter 55 No.55 img
Chapter 56 No.56 img
Chapter 57 No.57 img
Chapter 58 No.58 img
Chapter 59 No.59 img
Chapter 60 No.60 img
Chapter 61 No.61 img
Chapter 62 No.62 img
Chapter 63 No.63 img
Chapter 64 No.64 img
Chapter 65 No.65 img
Chapter 66 No.66 img
Chapter 67 No.67 img
Chapter 68 No.68 img
Chapter 69 No.69 img
Chapter 70 No.70 img
Chapter 71 No.71 img
Chapter 72 No.72 img
Chapter 73 No.73 img
Chapter 74 No.74 img
Chapter 75 No.75 img
Chapter 76 No.76 img
Chapter 77 No.77 img
Chapter 78 No.78 img
Chapter 79 No.79 img
Chapter 80 No.80 img
Chapter 81 No.81 img
Chapter 82 No.82 img
Chapter 83 No.83 img
Chapter 84 No.84 img
Chapter 85 No.85 img
Chapter 86 No.86 img
Chapter 87 No.87 img
Chapter 88 No.88 img
Chapter 89 No.89 img
Chapter 90 No.90 img
Chapter 91 No.91 img
Chapter 92 No.92 img
Chapter 93 No.93 img
Chapter 94 No.94 img
Chapter 95 No.95 img
Chapter 96 No.96 img
Chapter 97 No.97 img
Chapter 98 No.98 img
Chapter 99 No.99 img
Chapter 100 No.100 img
img
  /  3
img

Chapter 7 No.7

Soho House was the living room of the Hollywood elite. It smelled of expensive cologne, truffle fries, and desperation.

Kennedy Gilmore loved it.

She sat at the best table on the patio, sipping a kale smoothie. She saw Darius Clark sitting three tables away, looking over a script.

She checked her makeup in her compact mirror-perfect-and stood up.

"Darius!" she exclaimed, feigning surprise as she walked by his table. "I didn't know you were in town!"

Darius looked up, his smile polite but tight. "Kennedy. Good to see you."

"I heard you're casting for Blue Note," she said, sliding uninvited into the chair opposite him. "You know, I played piano for six years. I feel like this script was written for me."

"We're still in early talks," Darius said evasively, glancing at the entrance.

"Well, you need someone with a clean image," Kennedy lowered her voice, leaning in. "Especially after what happened with poor Holt. Can you believe that girl? Ivy? Violating him like that?"

Darius's expression shifted. He looked uncomfortable.

"Actually," Darius started, "I don't think-"

The restaurant went silent.

It was a specific kind of silence that only happened when an A-lister walked in.

Kennedy turned.

Holt Nicholson was walking through the patio doors. He was wearing a charcoal suit, no tie. He looked like a storm cloud in human form.

Kennedy's heart leaped. This was it. A photo op. Her and Holt, united against the predator.

She stood up, flashing her brightest, most sympathetic smile.

"Holt!" she called out, loud enough for the paparazzi on the street below to hear.

Holt didn't even blink. He walked straight past her, towards Darius.

"You left the file in my car," Holt said, dropping a manila folder onto Darius's table.

Kennedy froze, her hand half-extended. The snub was brutal.

But she recovered quickly. She stepped closer, invading his space.

"Holt," she said, her voice dripping with concern. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am. About the gala. What Ivy did to you was disgusting. I'm so glad you're okay."

Holt turned to her. Slowly.

He looked at her like she was a stain on his lapel.

"Miss Gilmore," he said. His voice was low, but it carried across the silent terrace.

"We worked together on Summer Cicada," Kennedy said, her smile faltering. "I just... I wanted to support you."

"I don't need support," Holt said. "And I don't appreciate strangers discussing my private affairs."

"Strangers?" Kennedy laughed nervously. "We're colleagues. And Ivy is-"

"Ivy," Holt interrupted, his voice turning to ice, "is family."

The word hung in the air.

Kennedy's mouth fell open. "Family?"

"Yes," Holt said. "So I would suggest you stop tweeting about her. It's becoming... tedious."

He turned back to Darius, nodding once, and then walked away.

As he turned, he reached up to adjust his sunglasses. His suit sleeve slipped down his wrist.

Kennedy saw it.

For just a fraction of a second, before he pulled his cuff down with a smooth, practiced motion, she saw a flash of pink against his tanned skin.

It was cheap. It was fuzzy. It was a pink velvet scrunchie, the kind a teenage girl would wear. Or Ivy Snow.

Kennedy stared at the spot where it had been as he walked away.

Family?

No. Men like Holt Nicholson didn't wear their cousin's hair ties.

Her humiliation turned into something colder, sharper.

They're lying.

Previous
            
Next
            
Download Book

COPYRIGHT(©) 2022