Bella stared at the clear plastic bin sitting on the folding table, clutching her phone as if Zoe had just asked her to surrender a kidney.
"I can't just stop broadcasting," Bella argued, her voice dripping with offended entitlement. "My fans are literally praying for her in the chat right now! I'm providing a public service!"
"Phone in the bin, Bella. Or turn around and walk out the front doors," Zoe threatened, her expression flatter than a paved road. "I have all day."
Bella's eyes narrowed into a venomous glare. She looked at the six heavily armed mercenaries standing behind the table, realizing very quickly that her usual temper tantrums were not going to work on men who looked like they enjoyed breaking legs for entertainment.
With a dramatic, put-upon sigh, Bella aimed the camera at her face one last time.
