It made sense.

Syon took the pants, still not happy with the circumstances. “One text. Then I’m all yours.”

Cid handed over the phone. Syon flipped it open and typed in a line of text.

* * *

Kate stared at her phone, blinking as she read the message.

I was a dick. Explain after the show.

You’re in love.

Shit.

She was.

There was no other way to explain the rush of happiness, pure giddiness that went through her. Her fingers were trembling, for Christ’s sake. She read the message once more and stood up.

Yeah, she might be in love, but there was no way she was going to let Syon steamroll over her. She marched into the bathroom and prepared for war.

Yoon was waiting for her. He checked his watch but didn’t say anything about her late arrival. She was used to arriving with the band. Now, she was stuck in the traffic that was slowly being guided into the massive parking lots that surrounded the FedEx Forum. It was a line of brake lights following the hand signals of parking lot attendants. Traffic signals were turned off, blinking red because of the surge of cars trying to make it to the concert on time.

Darkness had descended, lending the perfect backdrop to the fans wearing more leather than cloth. They had spiked hair and piercings in every imaginable place. The parking lot lights shone down on them as they howled with growing excitement. They held up their cell phones to take selfies and pictures of one another.

“We’d better go into the seats,” Yoon advised her after a quick look at his watch.

She nodded, filing in behind the fans holding tickets. Yoon flashed their VIP card. It raised a few eyebrows and earned him two winks from hopeful fangirls. Her escort never even blinked. He guided her through the seating, down to the floor, and up to the base of the catwalk.

One of Cid’s security guys spotted them as they took over the two reserved seats. He reached up and pressed a button on his headset before saying something into the tiny microphone latched onto his polo-shirt collar.

She didn’t have time to think about anything else as the huge spotlights over the stage began to fan out over the crowd and up to the ceiling. The fans roared with approval, thrusting their fists into the air as Drake leaped into view and took command of his drums. He started up with a beat that made her pulse. Taz joined in next, laying down the bass notes, looking like the cheers were soaking into him.

It was wild and raw.

Syon and Ramsey completed the descent into total sensory decadence, their music yanking her into its current like a flash flood. Her personal dilemmas melted away, overshadowed by the sheer abundance of emotion being stirred up. She was at the edge of the catwalk, moving with the beat as Syon moved toward her. By now, she knew the show, knew the spots he like to hit at certain cues.

Tonight he broke from the norm, strolling down the catwalk, prowling toward her. There were thousands of people around them, but all she saw was him. He had his hand curled around the mike with a strength and confidence that thrilled her. It was frankly breathtaking. She heard his soul in every word. He hit his knee, closing the distance between them and making her breath catch. For just a moment, he was inches from her. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, the intensity in them searing. She shuddered, feeling it shoot down her body. She reached up to touch him and watched his eyes widen with surprise.

He pushed back to his feet, shifting his body for a moment. It was the only outward sign he gave that something was off as the song began climbing to its climax. He had to lean back with it, tipping his head back as his body bowed out with the emotion.

Which gave her a glimpse at the open inseam along his thigh.

Her breath froze in her lungs, horror freezing her.

No way.

Just no fucking way!

Chapter 7

“Your work fucking failed.”

Cid chucked the pants at her the second she made it into the backstage performers’ room. She caught them and peered at the hole, her breath stuck in her chest. She was trapped in the moment. A horrible place where she was staring at a failure she was so sure couldn’t have happened.

But something caught her eye. She blinked and drew in a breath.

“Like hell it did.” She pulled the pants inside out to take a second glance at the garment in her hands, making sure she wasn’t seeing what she wanted to see instead of what was there. She held them back up. “Someone pulled up the stitches…halfway down the inseam. They’re cut with a ripping needle. You can see the indention from the point.”

Cid rounded on her, his entourage backing him up. “So you did it on purpose? At least you admit it. That makes it a lot easier to deal with.”

“I can’t believe you think I’d compromise a performance.”

“My lead singer’s fucking pants opened up on stage!” Cid made a cutting gesture with his hand. “Which is why you’re leaving. Got a car waiting for you now.”

He had four crew members backing him up. He snapped his fingers, and they filed around him, starting toward her. But she was looking at Syon. He had that hard glitter of business in his eyes. His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the corner of a dressing table and studied her.

“I didn’t pull those stitches up.” She was talking to him and honestly didn’t give a single fuck for anyone else in the room.

What she cared about was the way he remained silent.

“Get her out of here,” Cid snapped.

She stood there, watching it happen in slow motion. She felt like something inside her was bleeding. Like a huge knife had been plunged deep into her heart. She couldn’t draw breath. She was pretty sure she knew what it was like to be sucker punched, because her entire body felt like it was shaking and on the verge of collapse.

She’d known it was headed for an epic crash and burn.

Known it.

But it still hurt a thousand times worse than any mental anticipation had prepared her for.

The only thing she managed to do was look away, so Syon wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.”

Kate jerked her attention back up. Syon had slid between her and the crew members.

“I didn’t tell you to do shit, Cid. We’ll work this out.”

The road manager didn’t even blink. “My job is to manage this tour. She’s disruptive and now sabotaging the operation. I’m just taking out the garbage. I don’t wait for you to tell me my job. That’s why I’m the best. Got the original artist on his way to the airport to join up with us.”

Someone grabbed her bicep, and she jumped. Ramsey pulled her back and stepped in front of her.

“Kate isn’t garbage,” Ramsey stated.

She stood there with her mouth gaping. Syon turned to look at Ramsey. She witnessed the connection between them as he gave Ramsey a single nod.

“But someone has been sabotaging our show.”

They all turned to look at Taz. He was standing near the rolling rack of pants. Two pairs had been tossed over his shoulder, and he had another pair turned halfway inside out. “Someone’s been tampering with these. You can see where they nicked the leather with the ripping needle. All of these have been messed with too.”

“I knew it. My work doesn’t fail. And I am a professional.” Kate charged over to him and grabbed the pants. The nicks were there, every third or fourth stitch broken. Syon was leaning over her shoulder, Ramsey on the other side.

“We’ve got a security problem,” Ramsey muttered.

“Exactly, we’ve got a jilted-girlfriend issue,” Cid said from across the room. “She’s lashing out. Which is why she’s got to go.”

Cid was coming toward her. Syon stepped into his path, Ramsey right behind him. Taz gently tugged her back and joined his bandmates. Yoon was suddenly there, crowding her back.