Her eyebrows shoot up in annoyance before I can even finish.

“A fan, I know. Nothing new.” Then she glances down with an exaggerated sigh. “Since when were kids allowed in here? I wasn’t aware we’d be doing charity work today.” She blurts out, but her gaze lingers on Ari’s prosthetic leg… too long.

Ari’s happy mood instantly changes, and the excitement drains from her face. She takes a half step back, visibly shrinking within herself and twisting her shirt between her fingers in a desperate attempt to hold back the sting of tears.

And all I see red. Without thinking, I immediately pull the girls closer, using my body as a protective wall between them and Krista.

“Well,” I say, my voice razor-sharp. “I guess I why they say it’s best not to meet the people you admire from afar. You’re absolute trash, Krista.”

Her shock is brief before she scoffs and rolls her eyes just as Vic’s voice cuts through the air.

“There are my three beautiful ladies. What’re we talking about over here?”

My little tell-it-like-it-is Syd pipes up, “Ms. Kind was just about to beat up Ms. Mean Krista Ray.”

Krista stiffens when he looks down at Ari and sees it. Her insecurity. Her self-doubt. A look we haven’t seen in months. His smile disappears, and his eyes darken. His voice remains calm but drops dangerously low.

“What the hell did you do to my daughter?”

The entire set goes quiet.

Krista pales. “I—I didn’t realize they were your daughters. I’ve only seen pics online. I just thought they were—”

“Oh, so you just treat everyone with disrespect, huh?” His voice stays calm, but the disgust in it is unmistakable. “Apologize.”

Krista blinks. “Huh?”

Vic’s tone doesn’t waver. “Apologize to my family. Now. All three of them. Or I won’t film another minute with you.”

Humiliation spreads across her face like wildfire, laid bare for the entire set to witness. She mumbles out an apology, her voice small, tight, and fake as hell.

“I’m sorry.”

Vic doesn’t blink. “Try again.”

She swallows hard. “I’m sorry, Ari. And Syd. And…” She hesitates, her jaw tightening before forcing out my name, tight with resentment, “…Ms. Kind.”

Suddenly, Serena reappears, eager as ever. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who are we fighting?”

Hudson steps in just in time to answer. “Hopefully, no one—or at least not near any cameras.”

Their eyes lock instantly.

“Hudson Grimes.” He says, surveying all of her perfection.

Serena lifts a brow. “I know who you are.”

She doesn’t even get the chance to introduce herself before he cuts in.

“And you’re the journalist I’ve been hearing so much about. My office has been trying to connect with you for a story.”