Chapter 5: New Rules
I curse Jason under my breath, calling him a dog of a man for being so quick to play knight in shining armor. But I don’t waste a second on him.
Instead, I turn my fury on Lucas, voice like a whip: “What are you making a scene for? This is a hospital—there are patients everywhere.”
Lucas, caught off guard, quickly tries to recover, plastering on his most sycophantic grin. “I heard you were hurt, Nicole, I was so worried. Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. My performances have been a mess.”
I take a step back, holding the door between us like a shield. “You can’t even focus on your performance—where’s your professionalism?”
Lucas’s smile falters. He reaches for my hand, but I sidestep. “Come on, Nicole, let me perform for you alone~” He tries that puppy-dog routine that used to work on the old Nicole.
But this Nicole is different. I channel my best ice-queen energy, refusing to let flattery sway me.
“You’re not my only audience. Can you live up to the people who bought tickets to see you?” I keep my tone cool but pointed. “Instead of trying to please me, why not practice more? Live up to the stage—and to your fans.”
I notice Jason’s eyes widen in surprise, like he’s seeing me for the first time. He studies me, trying to reconcile the old Nicole with the woman in front of him.
Lucas blinks, lost. “What’s with you today? Did you hit your head?” He reaches to check my forehead, but I swat his hand away.
I point at Rachel, now standing awkwardly to the side. “Apologize to her!”
Lucas gapes. “You want me to apologize to a nobody?”
I don’t hesitate. I slap him, loud enough to echo. The crack echoed down the hall. Lucas staggered back, hand to his cheek, stunned into silence as every head turned.
“What does her background matter? You pushed and hurt her—you need to apologize!”
Rachel tries to intervene, voice small. “I’m fine, don’t fight because of me.”
I don’t back down. “Apologize!” My tone brooks no argument.
Mr. Grant looms behind me, his presence enough to make Lucas’s knees wobble. He bows, stammering out apologies to Rachel until I’m satisfied.
I catch Jason’s gaze. This time, he doesn’t look at me with disgust. There’s something else there—maybe respect, maybe confusion, maybe both.
I turn away, motion for Mr. Grant to follow me inside, and whisper: "Get someone down there. If the plant wants a scapegoat, make sure it’s not Jason on the hook."
Mr. Grant grins, all business. “Understood, Miss. I’ll arrange for someone to go and have them force Jason to pay compensation.”
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