October 25, Friday

THE SHRILL ring of my phone pierced the early morning quiet. I groaned, fumbling for it on the nightstand. My mother's imperious face filled the screen.

"Josephine, darling," her crisp voice carried through the line. "I hope I didn't wake you."

I glanced at the clock – 6:31 AM. "Of course not, Mother. I always start my day at the crack of dawn."

Her sigh crackled through the speaker. "Sarcasm doesn't become you, dear. Now, listen. It's about fucking Curtis."

My stomach clenched. "What about him?"

"He's raised his price. Again." The disdain in her voice was palpable. "But the insufferable little toad will only give the new figure to you directly."

I closed my eyes, counting to ten. "Fantastic. Just what I needed to start my day."

"Well, don't fucking shoot the messenger. I've done my part. Now it's up to you to deal with this... situation." She paused, then added, "And do try to wrap it up quickly, darling. This needs to end—for both of us."

The call ended abruptly, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief. With a groan, I flopped back onto my pillows. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to Curtis, but it seemed I had no choice.

Steeling myself, I pulled up his number and hit dial. He answered on the second ring.

"Well, well," his smooth voice oozed through the line. "If it isn't my favorite little authoress. Miss me, baby?"

I gritted my teeth. "Cut the crap, Curtis. Mother says you have a new number for me."

"Straight to business, huh? Fine. Call off the lawyers, and I want half a million to go away."

For a moment, I was sure I'd misheard. "Half a mil— Are you insane?"

"Come on, Jo. You know I deserve it. After all, I am the 'real creative force' behind your success."

Something in me snapped. All the frustration, fear, and confusion of the past weeks crystallized into a white-hot anger.

"Listen carefully, Curtis," I said, my voice low and steady. "I had a curse put on you. Those two 'accidents'? That was me. And if you don't retract your statement about writing my book, I'm going to double down. Hard."

There was a beat of silence, then Curtis burst out laughing. "Oh, that's rich. A curse? You've finally lost it, babe. I always knew you had a vivid imagination, but this is next level."

"I'm not joking, Curtis. Back off, or things are going to get a lot worse for you."

"Sure, sure," he chuckled. "Tell you what, why don't you use that vivid imagination of yours to come up with half a million dollars? Then we can both move on with our lives."

The call ended. I stared at my phone, shaking with rage. How dare he? After everything he'd done, he had the audacity to demand more?

I stormed downstairs, my mind racing. I needed to end this, once and for all. No more Mr. Nice Girl. No more playing by the rules.

"You want to play hardball, Curtis?" I muttered. "Fine. Let's play."