Alex's POV
*****
"What the actual fuck is this, Marcello?!" I snapped, glaring at my manager who seemed like he was going to evaporate.
He scratched the back of his neck while Vincent just stood a few feet beside me with a stupid smirk stretching his lips.
What's the bastard so smug about? Why does this feel like he's playing some kind of game?
Ugh, knowing him he probably is!
"The paparazzi get word fast, Alex." Came Marcello's reply. "Also, the producers may or may not have tipped them off about the meet-up. Fans always make movies like this blow up with their fan ships of the actors and—"
"Excuse me?" Mathias suddenly spoke up, a frown creasing his brows.
Oh no…
"It's my boyfriend we're talking about here. Where does all this put me at?" his eyes looked between me and Vincent.
There was clear jealousy in them, causing my cheeks to flush hot with embarrassment and guilt.
"Babe," I muttered under my breath, walking to him with outstretched arms. "This doesn't change anything between us in any way. It's a movie. It will never be reality."
My hands brushed his shoulders tenderly and I watched as his face finally lit up with a smile.
But alas, that didn't last long.
"Cute," Vincent said behind me, causing my jaw to tighten. "But then again, does the media even know you two are dating? Seems like you're always avoiding the public eye."
Was he fucking serious right now?
I arched a brow, my nostrils flaring as my eyes flicked to the ceiling-high windows first. The paparazzi were still there in swarms, almost blocking New York's traffic, all in the name of taking pics of my house.
Of a life I once prized as private.
The frustration eating at my chest was unbearable as my eyes finally dragged until they landed on the devil himself.
"Bold words coming from someone who collects girlfriends like infinity stones," I spoke with pure sarcasm, matching it with a snarky smile. "Which of the infinity stones is the current one? Delusion?"
Vincent's jaw was set, his golden eyes glinting with a dangerous light that reminded me of the days he bullied me.
An image flashed through my mind just then:
Those same golden eyes stared at me mockingly as he clamped the hem of my boxer briefs into a locker.
"Fairy!" He had laughed in my face, saying the words with such disgust that you'd think he was taking out the trash.
That's the man I had to pretend I gave a damn about for the cameras. For Hollywood.
Well, Hollywood can suck my uncircumcised—
"Boys, boys!" Marcello's voice chimed, cutting my thoughts abruptly. "No one's telling you to cut things off with your boyfriend, Alex. Just… try to get along with Vincent. Sell the chemistry you're going to be building during production come September."
I kept my eyes on Mathias' face, seeing the uncertainty on his features that lingered for a bit.
But then he smiled, wrapping his hand around my wrist. "You know I'll always support you. No matter what."
I smiled in return, my eyes trailing from his lips to his eyes.
Gosh, I wanted to kiss him so bad right now.
"Again… cute." Vincent drawled with a bored tone behind me. "Can we get out of here and get this hangout over with? It's going to be a long week."
I glanced over my shoulder at him, glaring for a few seconds while he stared at me with that bored look again.
One week with him... God, help me.
"Very well." I cleared my throat, bringing my eyes back to Mathias and leaning closer, planting a kiss on his lips. Then I whispered. "We'll get to hang out once I get back."
He nodded, his smile still intact. "Here, right?"
"Yeah. Right here…"
If I don't get sent to jail for strangling Vincent before then.
.
.
After getting dressed up in a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, I put on sunglasses and stepped out of the penthouse with Vincent by my side.
We walked past the flashing cameras from the paparazzi with lowered heads until we got to our cars and drove to a restaurant where we would have breakfast.
A "date".
"Lord, that was hell," Vincent muttered when we stepped into the restaurant, patting me on my shoulder. "You good?"
I gave him the nastiest stink eye I could muster, scoffing. "You don't need to pretend to be nice."
I saw him staring at me from the corner of my eye but didn't bother sparing him another glance.
A waiter led us to our reserved table, positioned close to a large window with a good view of the traffic outside.
"I don't need to pretend to be nice to you, Alexander." Vincent suddenly remarked from across the table, his arms folded across his chest. "You can leave that to your goody two-shoes boyfriend."
My eyes narrowed, my fingers twitching as I lowered my voice. "What did you just fucking say to me?"
Before that could escalate, the same waitress who'd led us to the table walked to us with a professional smile, her eyes going from me to Vincent.
"What can I get you fine gentlemen today?"
I glanced at Vincent, waiting for him to speak. Because I've sure as hell already lost my appetite.
"I'll take the lasagna and two shawamas for me and him," Vincent said with that same dashing smile I've grown to loathe.
And as expected, the waitress blushed, writing that down before nodding. "I'll get that for you in a minute."
She walked away, leaving us alone... Well, if you ignore the tens of other people in the restaurant, all within their own little bubbles.
"You've got so much faith in that boyfriend of yours, huh?" Vincent muttered just when I thought I'd be getting some peace.
You know what? Fuck peace.
"What's it to you, Vincent?" I queried, arching an eyebrow. "You want to bully me over my relationship life too?"
Vincent's expression remained stoic as he shrugged. "No. I'm just curious. What makes you so sure that he's not just using you for fame? The money?"
My eyes twitched, agitation surging hotter by the second.
I have to deal with this for a week?! And then throughout the movie production?!
"He's a software engineer, just so you know." I tilted my head ever so slightly. "Not like that's any of your concern."
Vincent sniggered softly, shaking his head as he brought out a cigarette and lighter, his eyes flicking away from me.
Something snapped in me just then.
"You know what?" I began. "I'll not let you, Hollywood or anyone else define me or my relationships." I rose to my feet, watching as he looked up at me. "And I sure as hell wouldn't let you—"
Before I could finish that sentence, a loud crashing sound rang out, the glass window beside the table shattering into a thousand pieces and falling like snowflakes.
Some of it splashed on my body like hail, cutting my arm as I jolted, placing my hands over my face while Vincent yelled out in a panic:
"Sniper!"
My heart jumped into my throat, fear freezing me in place even as people began getting up and screaming.
Until—
BANG!
Another gunshot, but a second before it sounded, a pair of surprisingly strong arms grabbed me and plunged me onto the marble floor.
I shut my eyes tightly as I felt a body hovering above me, shielding me. My heart thudded, blood rushing into my ears as I slowly opened my eyes when I caught a whiff of a sweet cologne.
But when my eyes fell on the owner of the pair of arms, my breath hitched.
Vincent.
And his face was only inches away from mine, his intense golden eyes locked on me with a protectiveness I never saw coming in a million years.
Right now I didn't know if I was more shaken by the gunfire... Or the fact that Vincent Moretti was shielding me.