Thomas didn't hear from Danielle or anyone else associated with her film for three days and, consequently, almost forgot about the interaction altogether. But there was that one small remark she'd made, about the Silver Circle, that stuck with him. It had been two years, and it wasn't like he never wanted to go back to directing. He did, but there was that fear of failure – what if he didn't have what it takes anymore? What if he couldn't do his job as he could before?
And, of course, there was also that small matter of finding the perfect project. He'd been looking at several scripts a while ago, but nothing had seemed… right for him. So he'd postponed, and postponed, and postponed – and the more time passed, the more his fear had grown.
Perhaps he should speak to Holly Chang, she might have something in the works. Then again, if he recalled correctly, she'd been hired for another project a few months ago, and was likely too busy to create another masterpiece.
No, he wasn't going to find what was right for him now. And, in any case, it wasn't like he had the time for creating a film before the next semester started. Unless, of course, he didn't create it from scratch. If there was already a script, and a cast, and he'd only have to give up some creative control… no. Absolutely not. He was not, not even for a second, going to consider Danielle's proposal.
But it hadn't been a proposal, had it? She'd acted as if it was already set in stone. You are going to take over his job, she'd said. She hadn't asked him if he would do it, nor had she presented it in any way that implied he had a choice. He'd thought it was just her way of trying to persuade him – make him think he couldn't say no – but on the fifth day after their conversation, he was proven wrong.
It was a crisp white envelope that day, with no address on it but simply his name. He took it out of the mailbox and placed it on his kitchen counter, wondering if opening it was a good idea. He knew it wasn't. So he didn't touch it for several hours, in fact, he forgot about it until he went to get a glass of Scotch that night. And so when he returned to the lounge with his tumbler, he took the envelope with him as well.
It sat on the coffee table for another hour so, while he read over a script a former student of his had sent him, and his eyes kept wandering to that cursed piece of paper. And so, eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and opened it. He immediately regretted that decision.
Thomas didn't think he would ever be blackmailed again. After all, he hadn't done anything he could be blackmailed with. But the single picture that had been in that envelope certainly looked like he had done something. And it didn't much matter whether it was taken out of context or not; not to the press. Especially not considering who the other person in the photo was. While many would likely agree that it didn't seem much like Thomas, the same could not be said of Danielle. There were few things people – including Thomas – would put past her. Being in a secret relationship with a professor was not one of them.
"Damn you," Thomas murmured as he stared at the photograph in his hands. "I told you, it could never be just a dance."
He looked at the picture of him and Danielle dancing just a little too intimately at her first Fairytale Kingdom Formal for another moment, before turning it around. There were three words written on it, followed by a set of initials.
Don't test me.
– V.M.
Thomas was glad he'd put down the glass of Scotch earlier because he was convinced he would have thrown it across the room otherwise. Of course. Of course Danielle would work for Montmartre. She never learnt, did she? She'd been burnt a million times before and, still, she would choose to work for a snake such as him.
Then again, she didn't know him. And being cast in a film that was expected to be extremely successful must have been quite tempting. As much as Thomas would have hoped she'd know better, as much as he would have hoped he'd taught her to know better, he couldn't blame her.
What he could blame her for, however, was telling someone that this photo existed. Because Thomas knew for a fact that it had never surfaced before, and that the only person who could have possibly known about it that was at all associated with this project, was Danielle. And, oh, she would pay for that.
But the picture was out there now, and if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Viktor Montmartre would not back down until he got what he wanted. And since Thomas had nothing on him whatsoever – not yet, anyway – he would have to play along. For now.
He had received the first letter. Danielle knew this because she was sitting in her car, just down the street from where Hunt lived and had just seen one of Viktor's men drive by. She considered taking it out of his mailbox before he could find it but knew it wouldn't have changed anything. Viktor had the pictures now. He had all the so-called proof he needed. It didn't matter that what it was supposed to prove never even happened. The photos were all real, and it didn't look good for her. It looked even worse for Hunt.
Maybe she should have told him when she'd gone to talk to him. Maybe she shouldn't have waited for Viktor to take action. But how was she supposed to tell him that she may have accidentally ruined his entire life? She'd been too scared to bring it up. Terrified, really. And now it was too late.
Not long after the letter had been delivered, Hunt had come out of the house to collect his mail. But Danielle did not receive an angry text, or a call, within an hour of him going back inside. She would have expected one. Though, maybe, he simply didn't think her number would still be the same. So she checked her e-mail. Nothing.
It seemed strange to her that Hunt wouldn't immediately contact her. After all, he must have known that nobody but her would have known about the pictures. She wondered which ones had been in the envelope.
Had Viktor gone straight for the one from after the Fairytale Kingdom Formal, in which she had stupidly kissed his cheek, and it had looked like she had actually kissed him? Or had he chosen the one in which they were just dancing? That one would have been only marginally better, since they were holding each other quite closely, but at least it wasn't ostensibly a kiss. Or maybe it was the one from Sundance. That one was the least terrible, and it had even been printed before, but in combination with the others – suffice it to say, it would no longer simply look like a professor who was proud of his student.
She should have listened to him when he'd said he wouldn't dance with her. She should have listened to him when he'd taught her to always be wary of the people she did business with. But she was stupid, and she always thought she knew better, even when experience told her otherwise. In the end, Hunt had always been right.
Danielle checked her e-mail once again – still nothing – before she finally decided to drive off.
The call she'd expected finally came around a quarter to three in the morning. She was still awake, trying to distract herself by finally watching that show Addison had recommended to her so many times. Now that she was trying not to think of reality seemed the perfect time to get lost in a world of dragons and faeries… nonetheless, the second her phone rang, Danielle slammed her laptop shut and reached for her phone.
She didn't want to answer. But she knew that she would have to face him eventually. So she picked up and immediately said, "I know. I'll text you the address."
"No need," came Hunt's voice from the other end of the line, just before her doorbell rang. "You should consider finding better friends. It's quite concerning how willingly they give out your information."
Danielle groaned as she made her way to the door. Of course he would already be there. He was Thomas Hunt, after all. "If Ethan gave you my address, it's because he knows you, Hunt. Hold on, I'll buzz you in." She stopped short of the button, hesitating for a moment. "You didn't bring any sort of weapon, did you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. If I wanted you dead, I'd have hired someone," he said before hanging up.
"Well, that's reassuring," Danielle murmured before pressing the button to let him inside. She wasn't entirely sure if Hunt was joking or not, but at least she knew she wouldn't die tonight.