Chapter 45 "Hey, Sloane." Marco pokes his head into the room where I've been getting my hair and makeup done for the past two hours. "Got a second?" My makeup seems to be an especially Herculean task tonight. Then again, I got almost no sleep and have spent today alternating between crying and trying my damnedest not to text Sly, as the silence between us stretches like barbed wire across my heart. When his flowers arrived, complete with an apology he has no reason to make, I damn near caved. Only the thought of how those reporters went after me in that press conference and Sly put himself between us keeps me from giving in. No way am I destroying his reputation the way Jarrod destroyed mine. No fucking way. "Of course," I answer before turning back to the mirror with a critical eye. "I'm pretty sure this is as good as it's going to get, Mandy." She doesn't look impressed. "Are you sure? I could try more glitter near your eyes. Or more concealer? Maybe a different shade of lipstick would make you look..." "Less dead?" I fill in for her. "You've already used half a tube of concealer under my eyes. This is as un-dead-looking as you can make me." "Okay." She still seems doubtful. "If you change your mind-" "I won't. But thanks." I give her the best smile I can manage before heading out of the makeup chair to meet Marco by the door. "Sorry to bother you before the show," he says as we head down the hall to my dressing room. "But there's something I think you ought to know." My heart starts beating double-time. "Did Sly say something to you when you dropped off the check? Did he cause a scene?" "I didn't even see him," Marco answers with a shake of his head. "Oh." I tell myself I'm not disappointed. That I don't care if Sly was too busy to even try to talk to Marco. It's not like I sent my head of security to the fundraiser for that. He was just there to deliver a check to a cause that obviously means a lot to Sly. I figured it was the least I could do. Or that's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking to it. I'm not disappointed at all that he didn't confront Marco in the parking lot and demand to see me. "What's up, then?" I ask as we weave our way through the crowded hallways. He looks serious as he tells me, "We got something in the mail that I'm concerned about." I lift a brow. "Another doll?" "Something else." Shards of ice slide down my spine at the look on his face, and for a moment my bones feel too fragile to hold me up. But I remind myself that I hired Marco for a reason. He's the best in the business, and he's not going to let some weirdo with a doll fetish get close to me. None of the other stalkers have, and this one won't, either. Still, I have to ask. "What is it?" "A mutilated photograph of you." His voice and face are carefully blank, but there's something in his eyes that makes me wonder just what kind of mutilation he's talking about. I go still, my skin suddenly too tight, like it's already feeling the blows. "Can I see it?" I ask quietly. "I don't think that's a good idea," he says. "The only other people who need to see that abomination are the FBI." Now I'm equal parts curious and disgusted. What the hell did they do to the picture? And what is our response going to be? When I ask Marco the latter, he tells me, "Wait and see if the FBI comes up with anything. They'll test for prints and run a description of the photo through the database, see if anything similar pops." But I'm watching his face, and I know him well enough to know what he's thinking. "You don't believe they'll find anything?" He shakes his head. "Whoever sent that pic and the accompanying note is seriously disturbed... If they'd been out there doing shit like this for a while, they would have been caught." My blood runs cold. "It's really that bad?" He looks grim. "It isn't good." "Okay." I take a deep breath as the opening act starts to play their first song. The crowd cheers and sings along, and it's such an incongruous sound considering our current conversation that it takes me a second to reconcile it in my head. "So what do you need me to do?" "Same things we already talked about." He ticks them off on his fingers. "No going anywhere alone. No walking the crowd line after a concert until we figure out what's going on. No more early-morning trips to the hotel gym with just one of us by your side. I want you covered by at least three people every time you go anywhere." "Three guards? We've already bumped up to two. Three doesn't seem...excessive?" "I told you when we got the second doll that I had a bad feeling about this." He looks me dead in the eye. "Well, that feeling just got worse." Of course it did. I blow out a breath. "Fine, do whatever you need to do." "I plan on it," he replies. "Including making sure you don't move from that room without me." He gestures to my dressing room door. "What? But we're backstage," I protest incredulously. "We are," he agrees. "I don't understand. Fans can't get back here-" "Theoretically, they can't. But you don't know who knows someone who works at a venue somewhere. Also, whoever wrote this letter had to have backstage access." "Backstage access?" I ask as my stomach sinks. "How could they get back here? It's restricted." "That's exactly what I'm wondering. Plus the fact that they've moved states..." "Please don't tell me you think they're on tour with us." I've worked so long and hard to get to a point where I feel safe, if not in public then at least with my people. The people who are hand-selected to be near me, to make up my world. The family I chose for myself. And now Marco's telling me that even that tiny bit of safety could be yanked away? After I sent that text to Sly this morning, I didn't think it was possible for any more jagged little pieces to break off my heart. But standing here, looking at Marco's face, I swear I can feel another piece crumble. How much more can I lose before I cease to be? Before I become nothing but the glitter and smoke they pay to see? "Okay," I whisper, because it's not like I have a choice in any of this. "Hey," Marco says, and for the first time since I hired him and told him I don't like being touched, he puts a bracing hand on my shoulder. The gesture tells me everything I need to know about how I must look. "It's going to be all right. I won't let anyone hurt you." "I know," I tell him, even as the searing pain in my chest settles down to a dull, constant ache. "I just needed a minute to absorb it." Or a decade, but it's not like I can tell him that. "I won't leave my dressing room without one of you." "Good. And just so you know, Jace and I have narrowed down the access list. Only Bianca, Olivia, Pauline, and Sly are allowed back here. Since your PR team tends to float people in and out to work with Bryan, we're going to have to set something else up with them. We can't be too careful at this point, okay?" I start to tell him he doesn't need to worry about Sly being on the list anymore, but I don't want to say the words. Maybe if I don't say them, they won't be true. I didn't let Sly go because I wanted to. I let him go because it was the right thing to do. And if I don't close off access, I can pretend-at least for a little while-that I'll see him again. But Marco's still waiting for an answer, so I nod and whisper, "Okay." He pats my shoulder clumsily again, then steps back. "I'll be here when you're ready to move to the stage." I nod a second time, then reach for the handle of my dressing room door. Already I can hear the opening act launching into another song. Which means the countdown to when I need to be onstage has already started. Since I have a feeling I'm going to need every single one of those minutes to put myself back together after the double whammy of today, I don't even try to muster up a fake smile before pushing inside the room. But the second I close the door behind me, I realize I've made a huge mistake. Because someone's already in my dressing room. Title: A Tangle of Love (English-dubbed) In "A Tangle of Love," a captivating romance unfolds within a unique observation show where participants navigate intricate relationships, love triangles, and power dynamics. Set against the backdrop of modern-day complexities, this ongoing series delves into themes of reincarnation, revenge, and personal transformation. Follow the journey of diverse characters as they grapple with misunderstandings and emotional conflicts while vying for love and success. As the drama unfolds, one couple emerges from the chaos, showcasing a remarkable glow-up that defies expectations. 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