His words were like ice picks, laced with barbs, stabbing straight into my eardrums. They shattered every last bit of reason left in me.
Before the performance, Abigail had played the role of a devoted fan, handing me flowers while I signed an autograph. In that moment, she discreetly cut my safety harness.
What she didn’t know was that one of my most loyal fans in the front row had set up a camera in advance. Every single one of her little tricks had been caught on tape.
After I completed my performance, my fans leaked Abigail’s public information online.
She was young and I had survived without injury. So, I asked my fans to stop the harassment. All I wanted was a simple apology from her. That was it.
Standing outside the private room, I still foolishly hoped that Victor would say something in my defense—that he would put an end to this ridiculous farce.
Instead, Victor agreed to everything Abigail wanted, smiling at her with indulgent affection.
“Abby, consider it done.” Warmth was devoid from his voice.
His brows were tightly furrowed, irritation written all over his face as he yanked my clothes off with force.
“Faith, you have no right to make a scene.”