Chapter 44

Remington must have hightailed it out of there in the dead of night. In the video, the guy’s trench coat was flapping in the sea breeze as he weaved through the bustling crowd, looking all frosty and serious.

Lizetta let out a sigh. No clue when he’d be back, but it was crystal clear this divorce wasn’t happening today.

Right then, she got a message from Yolanda.

[Don’t come back yet.]

Half an hour later, Lizetta got another message from Yolanda, and she rushed home, bursting through the door with urgent questions.

“What’s gone down?”

“People from the Dashiell Group showed up. Look at this.”

Yolanda nodded toward the coffee table, where a business card and a few printed contracts were laid out. It was all about that gig for Evelina, where Lizetta had used Yolanda’s info online.

Lizetta wasn’t surprised they’d come knocking. “Did they give you a hard time?”

Yolanda shrugged, “Just the usual stick–and–carrot tactics. Pfft, as if I’m buying it. They think they can ruin my future and get me kicked out of school? The Dashiell family ain’t exactly mobsters.”

Lizetta’s expression turned somber. The Dashiell family might not be mobsters, but they sure had their ways.

If they decided to cut off someone’s air supply, squashing little fish like them wouldn’t even cause a ripple.

She was kicking herself for not busting Evelina’s hand yesterday, making it impossible for her to ever play the violin again. That’d show her for stealing tunes.

“Let her play, then,” Lizetta tossed the contract back on the table.

get to play? Who’s scared of a little

the tune’s not for sale, but Evelina can have a

was itching to see what kind of hot mess

a one–time gig? That’s a real bargain for Bitch Evelina! I’m on

out to Lizetta, “Where’s

14:07

Facebook and find some

“Didn’t go through: Remington’s left

beld back, but

laving the groundwork for his side chick while dragging his feet on the divorce, You could make a bulletproof vest out of his thick skin and it’d stop a nuke! What a

the

what a money grab!

cared about the outcome,

they saw Mi. Dashiell’s people. These so–called composers act all high and mighty, but throw

it as Mr. Dashiell’s favoritism toward you. Won’t

a good putt piece written, and let everyone know just

pro at this game of stepping on one and touting another.

since returning home; her

struck a pose. The violin screeched, and she tossed it aside, her face

“What’s going on?”

Lizetta, that bitch’s fault; my arm and hand are killing

hadn’t faded, and Evelina’s face twisted with hatred. She remembered Elara sneaking a peek at Lizetta’s childhood dance competition videos the other

legs were

trace, and only after a day did he send

project accident, left the country,

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