Infamous (Beautiful Idols 3)

“I’m thinking like Nicole Kidman just after she separated from Tom Cruise,” her longtime stylist, Christina, had said when they were choosing between the numerous designs on offer. Madison had wanted to go with a fiercer look to honor all she’d been through, while Christina did her best to sway her in the opposite direction. “You want to look delicate, almost to the point of fragile. It’ll convince people to root for you.”

“They’re already rooting for me,” Madison said. “They consider me a hero.”

“You’ve overcome a lot,” Christina was quick to agree. “You had to convince the public those blog posts were the result of a deranged mind.”

“Which they were.” Madison had glared.

“Clearly.” Christina blushed furiously and fought to recover. “Still, for a fairy-tale event like the Oscars, you want to be seen as a princess. Soon as it’s over, you can put on your Wonder Woman cape and conquer the world.”

Madison had halfheartedly agreed. But after walking the carpet and seeing the hushed deference paid to her, she had to admit Christina was right. In a town like Hollywood, the truth didn’t matter: perception was king.

Absently, she traced a finger over the place where the tracker had been removed, and focused on the big screen. Luckily, the tracker was only one of many precautions Paul had put into place. Though he’d been shadowing Gerald Rawlins’s contacts for the last decade, it was only recently that he’d been able to confirm Heather’s true identity. Once that was established, it was simply a game of follow the leader, which had ultimately led him to Death Valley. Madison shuddered to think what might’ve become of her if Paul hadn’t shown up when he did.

Mistaking her shiver for nerves, Paul reached over and squeezed Madison’s hand. She was quick to squeeze back. It was probably normal to feel butterflies, but Madison wasn’t worried, not in the least. There was no one left to deny her, no one left to stand in her way from claiming Hollywood’s most valuable prize.

The clips of all the nominated roles were done playing. She nudged Blue with her foot, preparing him for the moment they’d practiced at home.

The presenters fumbled a joke that didn’t quite land. Then one opened the envelope and handed it to the other, who looked into the camera and said, “And the Oscar goes to . . .”