I'd kept it from Naya, of course. I'd told her nothing about it until Stephanie died. And then, when Naya had disappeared for three days unconscious in Hansel Ward's penthouse, though I hadn't known that at the time—I'd seen my opportunity.
My fame was fast fading because producers were asking for the impossible these days, plus, everything still came down to money. To get the best roles, you have to grease someone's palm with cash.
Though I'd proven myself a good actor, I was still known as the poor boy. I still lived in a decent part of the city because I was repaying all the loans I'd taken to help me maintain my lifestyle.
But I've found that to make it up to the big leagues, you have to play their game, which means you live in their house, you shop in their malls, you eat in their restaurant, have a membership at their clubs, and that is precisely what I intend to do with Naya's money.
The DOE Foundation fundraiser had been perfect.
Isabella and I had planned it carefully.
