The higher you go into the hills, the deeper the secrets...
A seemingly innocent piece of mail shatters the illusion of Beverly Hills luxury, forcing a terrifying statement from a powerful action movie mogul: "they can't kill us fast enough."
Success has a price. So do secrets…
1996. Beverly Hills, California.
Inside his sprawling mansion, mega-successful action movie producer Sherman N. Lee rules his empire with a volatile temper. In his world of indulgence and excess, assistants rarely last a week.
Until Emily Karelin walks through the gates.
At thirty years old, Emily is detached from the Hollywood machine. She is a disciplined athlete, enduring Sherman’s demands solely to fund her expensive figure skating obsession. Her strong work ethic and lack of showbiz ambition make her the perfect assistant—and the ultimate target.
But midway through their tense workplace dynamic, a piece of mail shatters the illusion of life itself. Confronted with a cryptic warning, Sherman’s usual gripes about taxes and city fees turn into a terrifying statement: they can’t kill us fast enough.
As the lines between professional loyalty and personal attraction begin to blur, Emily is isolated in a dark web of control and manipulation. Sherman refuses to speak the truth, but the warning signs are clear. Behind the gates of Beverly Hills, a dangerous agenda is unfolding. The only question is: who will survive the fallout?
Excerpt
[from chapter 4]
He quickly discovered that not only had she purchased everything that was on the list, but also there were no additional bottles or packages of soft drinks, chips or cookies. Sherman pulled the boxes out of the trunk and set them on the driveway. He saw a bulky black athletic bag in her trunk before he closed it.
“Do you work out a lot?” He asked.
“No, why?”
“Your gym bag…
She smiled. “My skate bag.”
“You skate?” He looked amused, imagining her gliding up and down his driveway.
“Ice skate.”
He studied her figure again. She looked healthy enough.
“Can you lift this box?”
“Sure.” She picked up the heavy, liquor-filled box without hesitation and carried it up the walkway.
Amazing, he thought. Most of his previous assistants refused to carry anything heavier than a message pad. He picked up his own box of spirits and followed her inside.
Once in the foyer, she gave him the receipt. He immediately began unloading the bottles right in the middle of the floor to double-check the order.
“I guess you’re not much of a drinker,” he commented carelessly.
“I have no interest in the stuff.”
“You’re a lot smarter than me.”
“No, I have different interests.”
“You’re telling me I have an interest in booze?” Sherman suddenly yelled, his temper snapping instantly.
Emily stared at the angry producer. It’d been going so well. Too well. She didn’t know what to say. Confronted by his sudden fury, she simply held his gaze, rendered completely speechless but refusing to look down.
Sherman gazed back, his dark gray eyes fuming as they locked onto hers. Slowly, the silence stretched, and his anger transformed into something else. He realized he had met his match.
“You’re a tough broad, Emily.”
“Is that a compliment?”
In a near-future Baltimore, an unemployed bipolar journalist and a teenage hacker are the last hope for a dystopian world controlled by a giant media corporation.
