Unmasking the Tyrant's Ex

Prologue

I needed cash badly. So I took a high-paying gig with one catch.

My only job was to be a human punching bag.

Nolan gave me a dead-serious warning beforehand. The boss was a walking nightmare with a toxic temper.

I wasn't about to lose my dignity. I showed up armored in dark sunglasses and a thick face mask.

I pushed open the studio door. I was completely stunned. The tyrant director slouched in the chair, tearing his crew apart until they cried

It was Tristan. My perfect, gentle ex-boyfriend who never even raised his voice at me.

He didn't even blink. His dead eyes scanned my disguise before he scoffed. "You brought me a psycho? Get her the hell out of here."

Chapter 1

"That's him?" My voice cracked. A violent tremor shot down my spine.

Nolan crossed his arms. He followed my frozen stare. "Yep." His gaze dragged over my ridiculous outfit. "Did you really need the full hazmat suit?"

"Getting screamed at in person is humiliating," I muttered.

Thank God for my paranoia. No amount of money would make me take a job getting roasted by my ex.

Nolan sighed. "Fair enough. You're his new assistant. Just survive a month."

Across the set, Tristan slouched in his director's chair. The harsh studio lights cast long, jagged shadows across the floor, making the suffocating atmosphere feel even colder. Within minutes, three separate crew members approached him. They all walked away fighting back tears.

"He's tired of yelling," Nolan whispered. "This is him calm."

My jaw clenched. "Is he really that toxic?"

Nolan let out a dry laugh. "Come on."

We closed the distance. Tristan's ice-cold stare finally locked onto us. His jaw ticked. He glared dead at Nolan. "What's this? You hate me so much you brought a thief to rob my set?"

A thief? My nails dug into my palms. I was just wearing a mask and shades.

"No, no," Nolan chuckled nervously. "This is your new assistant."

I dragged my heavy boots forward a single step.

Tristan's gaze slashed over me. "I can't tell if it's a guy, a girl, or the Grim Reaper. Is my set a homeless shelter now?"

I swallowed hard. Forcing a high-pitched, fake voice, I squeezed out the words. "I'm a woman."

Tristan sneered. Pure disgust twisted his features. "A literal psycho. Take her and get out."

Nolan cleared his throat. "I handpicked her. She just has a severe facial allergy right now. It's horrible to look at, so she has to cover up."

I nodded frantically.

Tristan slammed his script onto the table. "Then leave her in a damn hospital! Do I run a clinic?"

Dead silence choked the set. Nolan shifted on his feet, totally stuck.

"I didn't ask for the allergies," I mumbled. "It's a chronic thing."

Tristan froze. His ruthless eyes snapped back to my face. But those beautiful eyes held zero warmth. He stared at me like I was a lifeless object.

Behind the dark lenses, my eyelashes fluttered. My chest caved in. The air turned into glass shards in my throat.

To me, Tristan had always been the gentlest, most perfect boyfriend. I had never seen this side of him before.

Chapter 2

Six months ago, on the day Tristan and I broke up, he had stared down at me with those same captivating eyes. Those same captivating eyes held mine. His voice wrapped around me, soft and entirely too calm. "I'm sorry we couldn't make it to the end."

He pulled me into his chest. His hand stroked my back in slow, rhythmic circles. "You have to walk your own path from now on," he murmured. "I want you to be happy, Jade."

The split was clean. Too clean. It felt completely sterile. For three years, a sheet of bulletproof glass stood between us. I never truly breached his defenses.

Seeing him now, a cold dread pooled in my stomach. I was right. He harbored a dark, vicious side I never knew existed.

Tristan let out a harsh scoff. "Fine. Let her stay. She'll run away crying soon enough anyway."

A blur of fur interrupted him. A stray cat vaulted straight into his lap. Its coat was matted with street dirt.

Tristan's jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck jumped. I braced myself. I waited for him to launch the poor thing across the room.

Back then, we spent weekends feeding neighborhood strays together. He handled them like glass.

Now, a deep crease formed between his brows. A heavy minute dragged by. He finally jerked his chin at me. "Get this cat out of here."

I let out a shaky breath. My hands reached out and scooped up the tabby. The cat melted into my arms without a fight.

"What is that smell on you?" Tristan's voice sliced through the air.

I froze. "My laundry detergent? It's a cheap five-dollar jug. Want the Amazon link?"

The corner of Tristan's mouth twitched. Pure disdain crashed over his features again. "Pass."

But his eyes glazed over for a fraction of a second. His thoughts seemed to drift away for a second, and even his tight expression relaxed a bit.

I always knew Tristan came from massive wealth. The art degree and directing gigs were just expensive hobbies to decorate his resume. I had zero clue he was actually directing a real film. He had actual celebrities on set. And he was verbally ripping them to shreds.

Nolan leaned against a nearby equipment crate.

"Nolan," I whispered. "Is Tristan actually a big deal?"

He caught my drift and let out a low chuckle. "His family's empire bought up top-tier scripts. They're pouring millions into this. It's basically Tristan's million-dollar playground."

My throat closed up.

Nolan suddenly shoved me forward. "Your turn. Go get 'em."

Tristan was currently incinerating Kyler. "Could you be any more of a walking ick?" Tristan's voice dripped with venom. "You're supposed to be a genius detective. You look like a cheap stripper working a Tuesday day shift."

Kyler's face contorted like he just swallowed battery acid.

Tristan didn't even pause for breath. He whipped his lethal glare toward Paige. "Did your facial muscles paralyze in the last five minutes? Your dad died. You dumped your boyfriend. You found the killer's clue. And you gave me the exact same blank stare for all three."

Paige's lower lip trembled. Her eyes flooded with panicked tears.

"Excuse me." I stepped right into the line of fire, gripping a steaming cup of coffee.

Kyler and Paige shot me looks of pure, unadulterated worship. They knew what was coming.

I was the designated human shield.

Chapter 3

Tristan locked eyes with me. A cruel smirk twisted his lips. "Did you brew this with literal gutter water? The smell alone makes me gag." He leaned forward, his voice dripping with condescension. "What roast is this? What water temperature? Did you drown it in cheap vanilla syrup? I despise that garbage."

I just stood there in silence, unable to answer.

Tristan scoffed. "Looking like a masked mugger, I'm half-expecting you laced it with cyanide. Make it again." His eyes went dead. "If it tastes like this again, check yourself back into the psych ward tomorrow."

"Fine," I forced out.

Tristan immediately pivoted. He opened his mouth to incinerate Kyler again.

I lunged forward. "I'll just brew five different cups! You can pick one. Deal?"

The entire set dropped into a suffocating, dead silence.

Tristan let out a dark, breathless laugh. "Are you out of your mind? Did Nolan drag you here just to spike my blood pressure and put me in an early grave?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. His voice dropped to a terrifying, deadpan whisper. "Go back to the hospital. Tell them to drain the fluid from your skull while you're at it."

Nolan had warned me. A normal PA would be sprinting for the exit in tears by now. But I was a paid professional. My emotional threshold was built out of titanium.

"Tristan, breathe. Why are you wasting your energy on them?" A melodic, crystal-clear voice cut through the toxic heavy air.

Genevieve glided onto the set in full makeup. She smoothly pulled Kyler and Paige behind her.

Nolan had briefed me on her. She was the untouchable female lead. Old money. Deep family ties to Tristan's empire. Casting her was just a multimillion-dollar playdate arranged by their parents.

Tristan's jaw clamped shut. The lethal, aggressive edge in his posture completely dissolved.

Genevieve didn't miss a beat. "I'll run the scene with them again. Give us five minutes, Mr. Director?" She plucked the rejected coffee right out of my hands. She offered it straight to Tristan.

He stared at the paper cup for three agonizing seconds. Then, his fingers wrapped around it.

Kyler and Paige practically sprinted away after her.

Nolan yanked me behind a massive lighting rig. He popped a potato chip into his mouth. "See that? The ultimate power of the childhood sweetheart."

Childhood sweetheart.

My stomach plummeted into a freezing void. Three years of sharing an apartment. Three years of breathing the same air. He never once mentioned her. I never knew the real him at all.

I took the water bottle Nolan handed me, pulled down my mask, and took a sip. "If she's playing peacekeeper, why am I on the payroll?"

Nolan rolled his eyes. "Genevieve is an A-lister. She can't play firefighter every hour of the day." He tossed me the bag of chips. "Having a dedicated human punching bag is way more efficient."

I nodded slowly. "Fair point." I grabbed a handful of chips. Since Genevieve had the tyrant distracted, I could actually breathe for a second.

Chapter 4

The heavy fabric of the mask suffocated me.

Nolan glanced sideways at me. "You've got a sharp jawline. Nice nose. Why take a gig like this?"

"The paycheck."

"Fair enough." He leaned closer, ready to keep talking.

A sub-zero voice sliced through the air. "Enjoying the buffet, you two?"

Nolan dropped his bag of chips instantly. "Just taking five! We're done."

My blood ran cold. A violent shiver racked my shoulders. I scrambled blindly and snapped the mask back over my face.

A few feet away, Tristan's dark, icy eyes narrowed. "Are you absolutely sure you have an allergy?"

Nolan jumped in to run interference. "It's patchy and peeling. Gross up close, honestly."

To sell the lie, I aggressively scratched my cheek like a feral stray.

Tristan flinched. Pure revulsion crossed his face. He tore his gaze away. He let out a sharp click of his tongue. "Get over here."

We shuffled over like inmates.

Tristan pointed a rigid finger at Nolan. "Tell the second unit to kill the shoot for two hours." His finger whipped toward me. "Go babysit Genevieve. Keep that keep Kyler away from her."

"Genevieve is an absolute angel," Nolan whispered to me. "Don't stress."

I forced a tight nod. "Tristan is a nightmare, but he really protects her."

"Obviously." Nolan scoffed. "Genevieve is the only person on earth immune to his toxic behavior. But" He paused. Nolan lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tristan actually had an ex. Kept her totally off the radar. Genevieve knew about her, though. Totally unbothered."

My breathing stopped. "What?" I choked out.

Nolan leaned in. "His family hated the ex. Eleanor actually met with Genevieve to do damage control. Eleanor swore Tristan was just messing around. Having a little fun. Genevieve played it so cool. She said high-value guys always have side pieces. He would get bored and come home to her eventually."

My fingernails dug violently into my palms. A ringing noise drowned out the set.

Three years. It was all a temporary phase to them. An inside joke I was never let in on.

"They're the ultimate endgame," Nolan rambled on. "When Genevieve wanted to do Hollywood, her family cut her off. No support. So Tristan pivoted. He dropped his Ivy League business track and went to film school just to back her up."

My stomach caved in. "Why?" The word scraped out of my dry throat.

Nolan shot me a look like I was an idiot. "He would be running a Fortune 500 right now if it weren't for her. Their families caved after seeing that level of devotion. Their bond is bulletproof."

"Oh," I whispered.

"Honestly? I feel bad for the ex." Nolan shook his head. "Tristan spent his entire life's supply of gentleness on Genevieve."

Cold sweat broke across the back of my neck. My lungs seized.

A jagged physical ache ripped through my ribs.

Chapter 5

The world went completely silent.

Three years with Tristan. I never once felt pathetic. He was flawless. Attentive. Wealthy. Whenever I was upset, he would pull me into his arms and gently comfort me. He orchestrated endless surprises. He leveled every obstacle in my path.

Even the breakup proved he was a decent, perfect ex.

Now, Nolan's words echoed in my skull. A freezing void opened in my stomach. My fingertips turned to ice.

The relationship I cherished so deeply was nothing but a hollow joke. A facade built on unfamiliarity and humiliation.

"Are you two just going to stand there like statues?" Tristan's sub-zero voice shattered the trance.

I dragged my leaden legs toward Genevieve's dressing room. Kyler and Paige swarmed her. They were whining non-stop.

Genevieve looked up. She flashed me a polite, knowing smile. No questions asked. She completely expected Tristan to send a babysitter.

Paige threw her arms around Genevieve. "You're a literal lifesaver. I was about to get blasted into orbit!"

Genevieve playfully poked Paige's shoulder. "I can run interference, but you actually have to act."

Kyler let out a dramatic sigh. He pointed a finger at me. "Genevieve, get this. The new PA offered to brew five different coffees for the director to choose from. Tristan looked ready to murder her. Told her to check into a psych ward."

Genevieve burst into a light, airy laugh. Her gaze drifted over me. "Tristan has always had zero filter."

"He literally refused the coffee from her," Paige chimed in. "But the second you handed it over? He caved."

A soft, rosy flush crept up Genevieve's neck. She let out a bashful giggle.

Kyler and Paige immediately started making obnoxious, teasing kissy noises.

I glued my eyes to the floorboards. I completely shut down my senses until they finally stood up for the next scene.

Genevieve paused at the door. She glanced back at me. "The room is a total wreck. Clean it up before we get back."

A strangled sound escaped my throat. "That's that's not in my job description."

Kyler groaned. "A job is a job. You work for Tristan, which means you work for Genevieve." He crossed his arms. "She runs the show. You get that, right?"

Paige nodded aggressively in agreement.

Genevieve waved a manicured hand dismissively. "She's new. She doesn't know the hierarchy yet. She'll learn."

My jaw locked shut. I managed a stiff, pathetic nod.

After they vanished down the hall, I hunted down Nolan. He waved off my panic the second I explained the dressing room situation.

"Are you kidding? Don't touch that mess. I'll radio Seth and his crew to handle the trash."

"Nolan, you're an actual saint," I breathed out.

He let out a dry laugh. "Don't bless me yet. I need you alive to take Tristan's incoming missiles. If you quit, I'm the one catching all the shrapnel."

I stared at him. Deadpan.

A thought hit Nolan. "Cast and crew dinner tonight. You coming?"

I shook my head instantly. "Hard pass."

Dinner meant chewing. Chewing meant ripping off the mask. Absolutely not.

Nolan didn't push it. "Cool. We're wrapping early today anyway. Go home and reboot." He patted my shoulder. "Don't let Tristan's toxic energy completely shatter your sanity."

Chapter 6

I collapsed onto my couch the second I hit my apartment. The suffocating layers of the hat, shades, and mask left my hair a greasy disaster.

I scrubbed off the day's grime under a scalding shower. I slapped on a sheet mask and binged Netflix.

My head barely hit the pillow when my phone vibrated. A FaceTime call from Nolan.

A heavy knot formed in my stomach. "Yeah?"

Pure panic dripped from his voice. "Tristan hit the bourbon. He's totally unhinged right now."

"And?" I deadpanned.

"Get over here and draw his fire!"

"I'm off the clock."

"Double time!"

"Drop the pin."

I dragged my disguise back on and raced to the venue.

The entire room was suffocating under a dead silence.

Genevieve sat at the head table. She massaged her temples. Even the untouchable leading lady was completely out of options.

Tristan slouched deep into a leather chair. His gaze was a lethal, frozen wasteland. A faint, flushed tint at the corners of his eyes gave away the alcohol in his system.

Nolan pulled me directly into the line of fire. He desperately needed the director to take his anger out on me instead.

Tristan didn't even flinch. He refused to spare me a single glance.

The heavy air calcified. Agonizing minutes dragged by.

Tristan's dead eyes locked onto Nolan. "Call Jade."

My lungs stopped working.

Genevieve's head snapped up.

Nolan blinked. "Who?" He caught the sudden, ugly shift in Genevieve's expression. It clicked. "I don't have her number."

"I'll dictate. You dial." Tristan's voice left no room for argument.

Nolan scrambled for his phone. He pulled up the keypad.

Tristan recited the digits. His voice was glacial. Each number was a physical blow to my chest. My pulse hammered wildly against my ribs.

It was my exact number.

My hand shoved frantically into my pocket. Did I flip the silent switch? I couldn't remember. My thumb clamped down on the power button.

A cheerful, blasting ringtone erupted from my jacket.

Every single pair of eyes in the room whipped toward me.

My blood ran completely cold.

I forced a jagged breath past my lips. My fingers blindly pressed the ignore button inside my pocket. I yanked the phone out and slapped it against my ear.

"Yeah? Hey Mom. No, I'm not at the apartment. You're dropping off groceries? Just wait until I'm off shift. I'll text you. Yeah. Bye."

Flawless execution.

On Tristan's end, the call simply went straight to voicemail. On my end, I was wrapped up in a fake family chat. Zero connection.

Nolan shoved an elbow hard into my ribs. "Why the hell are you grinning at your phone? Read the damn room!"

I finally dragged my gaze back to Tristan.

His knuckles were bone-white. He gripped Nolan's phone like he wanted to crush it into dust. A violent, suffocating darkness radiated from him. He didn't even spare a glance in my direction.

A massive wave of relief washed over me. Thank God Nolan and I only communicated through text apps. He had zero clue what my actual digits were.

Tristan abruptly shoved his chair back. He stormed toward the exit. A lethal, terrifying energy trailed right behind him.

Nolan frantically barked orders at the remaining crew to pack up. He grabbed my sleeve and yanked me after the tyrant.

I stumbled blindly behind them. I barely survived that disaster.

Chapter 7

Tristan looked absolutely murderous.

If I had swiped accept, he would have verbally eviscerated me through the speaker. But why dial my number? Was the bourbon making him crave a screaming match with his ex?

We stepped out into the biting night air.

Tristan sparked a cigarette. The harsh flare of the lighter illuminated the deep, agitated lines bracketing his mouth. "Stop tailing me," he rasped, his voice raw. "You're both eyesores."

"Come on, man," Nolan coaxed. "Vent to us. Let us take the heat."

"Like that would do a damn thing," Tristan scoffed. He leaned lazily against a pillar, his eyes dragging over Nolan and me. "You two are like leeches. Even when I tell you to get lost, you stick around."

Nolan instantly shoved me forward into the line of fire. He knew a verbal execution was coming.

I forced a stiff nod.

"Some things are just better left in the rearview," I recited, channeling pure, generic HR energy. "Let the past go. Don't stress it. Tomorrow is a fresh start" I wanted to scream at him: We broke up! Please just stop yelling at your ex-girlfriend!

Tristan's heavy eyelids slowly lifted. He didn't even flinch. His bare thumb pressed directly into the glowing cherry of his cigarette. The red-hot ember died against his bare skin. "None of your damn business."

A dark, hollow laugh scraped his throat. His tone dropped. It became terrifyingly, sickeningly gentle. "You really think you actually matter."

He didn't miss a beat. "You're fired."

One careless sentence. My massive paycheck vanished into thin air.

Nolan froze. He never expected my generic platitude to trigger a nuclear meltdown. "Tristan, wait, that's a massive overreaction"

"One more word," Tristan's voice dropped to absolute zero, "and you're out of a job, too."

Nolan's jaw snapped shut.

I stood rooted to the freezing concrete. The icy wind sliced right through my jacket. The chill sank directly into my bones.

Three years. We never had a single explosive fight. Whenever I spiraled, he was the anchor. His warm lips pressing into my hairline. The low, intoxicating rumble of his voice wrapping around me like a weighted blanket. "My fault," he would whisper. "I made my Jade upset again."

Now, he just looked at me. His dark gaze dragged over my disguise. Pure, unfiltered revulsion twisted his perfect features.

It wouldn't matter if the mask came off. We were already over. The disgust wouldn't fade; it would just find a clearer target.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

"Okay," I whispered.

Chapter 8

I left a few things on set. I had to drag myself back the next morning.

The atmosphere was absolutely suffocating.

Nolan spotted me. He let out a heavy sigh and transferred twenty-five hundred bucks to my Venmo. "Two grand for yesterday. Five hundred hazard pay for the night shift."

I hit accept. So much for that job. Only lasted a day. Sigh.

He offered a pitying look. "Tristan is incredibly volatile. It's a total nightmare."

I forced a tight nod. "It's fine."

Nolan aggressively ruffled his hair. "I never actually caught your name. Drop your number. I'll hit you up if another decent gig opens up."

I froze.

Before I could string a lie together, a massive crash echoed from the nearby dressing room.

Nolan jerked his chin toward the door. "Genevieve is having a total meltdown." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I mean, seriously. Why the hell did Tristan suddenly call his ex last night? The ex ghosts him, and the entire set pays the price."

The heavy door flew open.

Genevieve stormed out. Pure venom twisted her gorgeous features. A flock of terrified assistants scurried behind her. Kyler and Paige trailed them, looking completely drained.

Genevieve's eyes locked onto us. "Were you talking trash about me?"

"Never, Genevieve! Come on," Nolan backpedaled instantly.

It wasn't enough to soothe her ego. Her perfectly winged eyes narrowed. They snapped straight to me. "Why are you always dressed like a biohazard? Your voice sounds completely fake, too. Are you that hideous?"

"Severe facial allergies. And my throat is shot," I rasped out.

"Then why did you show up to work?" Genevieve cut me off entirely.

Nolan saw the incoming wrecking ball. He desperately ran interference. "Genevieve, Tristan already fired her. She's just grabbing her stuff."

Genevieve refused to drop it. She took a lethal step forward. "Who knows if that rash is contagious? We actually need our faces to make millions. What if you infect the whole cast?"

I stared at her. Was she insane?

"Take the mask off." Genevieve crossed her arms, issuing a direct command. "Let's see exactly what kind of breakout we're dealing with here."

My boots glued to the floor.

The reality hit me. She didn't care about a rash. She just needed a human punching bag to publicly humiliate.

I clamped my jaw shut. "It's not contagious. I'm leaving right now."

Genevieve shot a sideways glance at her assistants. Two of them instantly boxed me in.

Panic spiked in my chest. "Back off. What is this?"

Paige let out a dramatic sigh. "Genevieve is just looking out for the crew's safety. Just let us check the allergy."

My violent flinch only fed Genevieve's suspicion. Her eyes darkened. "You are not leaving this set until that mask comes off."

"What exactly is going on here?"

A sub-zero voice sliced through the chaos.

The entire room flatlined into absolute silence.

Chapter 9

Nolan leaned in. "Don't panic. I saw her escalating, so I SOS'd Tristan."

Genevieve practically glided over to Tristan. She spun a sweet, venomous lie about my suspicious behavior and the contagious allergy.

Tristan's heavy eyelids lifted. "Then take the mask off. Let's see."

Nolan's face drained of color. He completely forgot the tyrant always backed his childhood sweetheart.

"You should have just let me handle it," I muttered.

Every single pair of eyes locked onto me.

Genevieve twirled a glossy strand of hair around her finger. She looked entirely too pleased with herself.

Tristan stood with one hand shoved in his pocket. He oozed lethal impatience. He looked at me like a piece of trash wasting his oxygen.

A crushing weight collapsed against my ribs. The studio lights bleached out. My vision tunneled.

It had only been twenty-four hours. It felt like a decade of blunt-force trauma.

I dropped my gaze. A hollow, pathetic laugh scraped up my throat.

My hands lifted. I yanked the cap off. My pinned-up hair cascaded down in a tangled mess. My fingers found the elastic loops.

I ripped off the dark shades. I tore the mask away.

The studio flatlined