The Billionaire's Contracted Bedmate Free Preview

The pale crescent moon shone brightly, a silvery claw hanging in the night sky. Its glow blended with the glimmering city lights below.

A luxurious Rolls-Royce Phantom screeched to a halt in front of an equally luxurious hotel. The door swung open, revealing a slender leg, then a woman stepping out.

She wore a long red evening gown that clung perfectly to her curves, the color making her pale skin almost luminescent. Her chestnut hair cascaded down her back, and her hazel eyes, warm yet distant could bring any man to his knees if he dared to look too long.

Her straight, graceful legs and full hips moved with effortless confidence, and the fine jewelry adorning her body caught the light with every step. She looked like a bride-to-be, but she wasn’t.

She wasn’t there to be proposed to. She was there to let go.

“What a night to end things,” she murmured with a sad smirk, gazing toward the restaurant entrance.

The woman was none other than Ariana Hale, one of the most celebrated actresses in the country. Six years ago, she had taken the industry by storm with a film that shattered box office records and catapulted her to stardom. Since then, she had dominated the entertainment world, admired, envied, and worshipped as the nation’s goddess.

But tonight, even the goddess looked fragile.

Ariana took brisk steps toward the restaurant, her mind clouded with thoughts she didn’t want to face. She had never felt so vulnerable, yet she had made up her mind. Not after what she had seen.

A waiter approached her with a polite smile. “This way, ma’am.”

Ariana followed, still lost in thought. Something about the setting felt…different. The arrangement. The mood. It wasn’t like their usual dinners. But she kept quiet and followed anyway.

When the waiter led her out to the terrace and left, she frowned. The place was dark and empty. Her curiosity itched to speak, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t want to appear weak, or curious.

Then suddenly, the terrace lights came on. The sudden brightness blinded her for a second, and when her eyes adjusted, she froze.

Those haunting blue eyes.

They had always trapped her.

“Hi,” came that deep baritone voice beside her.

Ariana only nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. She didn’t notice the worry laced in his tone.

“Let’s sit,” he said gently.

“Sit where? There’s not even a..” her voice faltered as she turned.

The once-dark terrace was now transformed. Fairy lights twinkled around them. Candles flickered on the floor, surrounded by rose petals. In the center stood a two-person table draped in flowers and soft candlelight.

For a moment, she wondered if she had walked into someone else’s proposal.

She masked her shock behind a trained smile. Years of acting made it easy.

“Why are we doing this, Mr. Hawthorne?” she asked coolly, her tone distant.

Logan Hawthorne, the man before her, was the powerful CEO of Hawthorne Group, the country’s top business empire. Feared and admired in equal measure, he was the kind of man people spoke of in a hushed tone.

He looked devastating in a black three-piece suit that barely contained his broad shoulders. His expression was unreadable, but his stormy grey eyes held that same dangerous pull. He was every woman’s dream, and nightmare.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Logan said softly, his gaze never leaving her. “Let’s eat first.”

Ariana didn’t answer. She walked to the table, her movements poised but heavy with restraint.

Logan followed and pulled out her chair, the perfect gentleman.

As soon as they sat, a soft classical tune filled the terrace music she hadn’t noticed before. The atmosphere thickened. Tension and unspoken emotions hung heavy between them.

Ariana’s heartbeat grew uneven, though she hid it well. Logan’s composure wasn’t much steadier. Both sat trapped in silence, each waiting for the other to break it.

Finally, Ariana did.

“I have something to say,” she began, her voice calm, steady...too steady.

Logan’s brows furrowed slightly. “What is it?” His tone came out sharper than intended.

Ariana studied the grave, unreadable face of a man who looked at her like she was just another business transaction. That was what they had always been. Business.

“Today marks the end of our deal, Mr. Hawthorne,” she said evenly, her expression blank.

The air shifted instantly. Cold and heavy.

Logan ’s eyes darkened as countless emotions flickered across his face. Anger. Disbelief. Hurt. But his voice stayed low. Controlled.

“What do you mean?”

“The contract is over,” Ariana said, blinking slowly. “Six years...our deal has ended.”

Six years of being his bedmate. Six years of luxury in exchange for her body. Six years of addiction, dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to escape.

Logan went silent. His face remained unreadable, but a storm brewed beneath it. Ariana wished pathetically that he would fight. That he would tell her to stay. That maybe, just maybe, she meant more than a contract.

But he said nothing.

That silence broke something inside her.

“Then I’ll consider this a done deal, Mr. Hawthorne,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

She stood and turned to leave. But before she could take a step, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a hard chest. She gasped.

Their eyes met, hers wide with shock, his burning with something dark and unspoken.

“Who said it’s over?” Logan’s voice was low, dangerous.

Ariana’s brows furrowed in confusion, though her pulse betrayed her calm.

“I think you’re forgetting something, kitten,” he murmured, his cold fingers brushing her lips.

“I call the shots,” he declared, and then his lips crashed onto hers.

He attacked her soft, fevered lips with ferocity trying to convey his rage, his confusion, maybe even his worry. After a moment, his aggression eased, and his lips moved gently against hers, the anger melting into desperate tenderness.

Breaths tangled. Words died in their throats. They fought for dominance, their lips colliding with hunger and restraint.

His large hands found her waist, pulling her body against him so she could feel the heat burning through his body, the heat she had caused.

Ariana trembled beneath his touch, her body betraying her calm. She knew better than anyone that Logan Hawthorne was the only man who could draw that kind of reaction from her.

He felt her melt in his arms, just like always. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t look disgusted. Why? That question looped endlessly in Logan ’s mind as they devoured each other’s lips.

But what were they doing?

Weren’t they supposed to be ending things?

The soft classical tune playing in the background seemed to mock them, wrapping their entangled bodies in melody and silence. The musicians played on, oblivious to the storm of emotion unfolding before them.

The two exchanged every unspoken feeling in that kiss, love, longing, heartbreak, denial. When they finally broke apart, both gasped for breath, faces flushed, hearts pounding.

They stared at each other, red-faced and breathless, realizing how foolish they must look, and yet neither could regret it.

Logan’s blue eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze filled with love, protection, patience, and something that looked a lot like devotion. But Ariana didn’t see it; she was too busy trying to steady her racing heart.

What’s wrong with you, Ariana Hale? Calm down. Keep your emotions in check, she scolded herself silently, praying he couldn’t hear the wild thud of her heartbeat.

She was here to end things, and that was all.

“Ariana.”

“Mr. Hawthorne.”

They said each other’s names in shaky unison, their voices still breathless from the kiss.

“It’s Logan to you,” he muttered, irritated, as though the formality offended him. To him, she wasn’t just anyone.

Ariana smiled faintly at that, but her decision was made. She couldn’t afford to blur the lines again.

“These past few years have been… amazing,” she said quietly, the words she should have spoken before ending things so abruptly.

She gathered her courage and lifted her gaze to meet his misty blue eyes, a sad smile playing on her lips. She was going to miss him.

Logan’s jaw tightened, he had a bad feeling about where this was headed.

“Ariana,” he said, and her heart stuttered. Hearing him say her name was like music to his ears...raw and sincere.

“The contract I signed six years ago ends today,” she said, her voice soft but firm. She remembered the naive girl she had been, the one who’d signed that contract without realizing the cost.

“I know I might sound ungrateful,” she continued, her voice trembling, “but these six years have been torture for me.”

Logan frowned deeply. “What do you mean? I gave you everything.”

Ariana gave a bitter laugh. That was exactly the problem.

He had given her everything except the one thing she truly wanted.

He had saved her brothers from rotting in jail. He had lifted her from nothing and made her the nation’s goddess. For that, she would always be grateful. But gratitude wasn’t love, and dependence wasn’t freedom.

“You helped me when no one else would,” she said, her voice breaking. “You built me up from a helpless girl into someone the whole country adores. But I can’t keep living off you, Logan. I’ve taken enough.”

He studied her, confusion clouding his features. Why was she so determined to walk away when it was clear she didn’t want to?

A faint smirk touched his lips cold, knowing. “Ariana, I don’t know why you’re bringing this up, but it’s unnecessary.”

Her brows furrowed. “Unnecessary? But our contract says I was to be your bedmate for six years. Those six years are over.” The word bedmate tasted like ash on her tongue.

Logan’s eyes darkened. Why does she keep bringing that up? he thought.

“As I said before,” he replied, his tone sharp, “I call the shots. And I say our contract isn’t over.”

His voice dropped, deep and commanding. The air around them turned cold, his aura swallowing the space between them.

Ariana shivered at the sudden chill. In an instant, Logan slipped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. But she stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief.

“But I don’t want to,” she whispered.

The words hit him like a blow.

She didn’t want to. She didn’t want him.

His expression darkened, his features carved in shadow. Did those six years mean nothing to her? Had every smile, every touch, every stolen breath been just part of a contract?

“So you don’t want to be with me anymore?” he asked quietly.

Shouldn’t he be relieved she was freeing him to pursue the life expected of him, the engagement the media kept talking about? Yet here he was, angry.

“If you wanted to leave so badly,” he demanded, “why didn’t you leave earlier? Why hide behind the contract?”

Ariana’s temper flared. “Because I don’t want to be the other woman!” she shouted.

That silenced him.

Another woman? Logan blinked, confused. He had no other woman.

“What other woman?” he asked, his brows knitting together. Despite the tension, Ariana almost laughed; he looked genuinely clueless.

“The news was everywhere today,” she said finally, her voice small. “They said you were engaged.”

Logan stepped closer, his presence swallowing the air between them. “So you’re acting on something you saw on the news?” he asked, incredulous.

Ariana bit her lip, embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes.

He stared at her for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, he smiled. A real smile.

If a woman gets jealous, it means she cares. His friend’s words echoed in his mind, and for the first time that night, hope flickered in his chest.

“Are you jealous?” he teased.

Ariana choked on her breath. “No, I’m not. We don’t have that kind of relationship for me to feel entitled to jealousy.”

Her words hit harder than she knew. His smile faded, his mood shifting again like a storm at sea.

Logan exhaled slowly. “Ariana, I...”

The sharp blare of his phone cut him off. His jaw clenched as he answered. “What?” he barked into the phone, his tone glacial.

Ariana flinched slightly at the sudden change in him.

He listened for a few seconds, face hardening, and then hung up, his expression taut with irritation.

“I’m sorry,” he said, softer now. “Something urgent came up. I have to go.”

Ariana smiled faintly in understanding, though disappointment flickered behind her eyes.

“I’ll have the driver pick you up,” he added, scrolling through his phone. “Even though I didn’t plan for you to go home tonight.”

Her cheeks flushed crimson at the implication.

“The driver will be here soon,” he said, stepping back.

Then suddenly, he turned and caught her off guard, his lips crashing into hers in a kiss that stole her breath all over again.

“I’ll call you,” he whispered, and this time, he left for real. He didn’t look back. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to walk away.

Ariana stood there, dazed, her fingers brushing over her swollen lips. Logan’s jacket slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor.

“His coat,” she murmured, a soft smile curving her lips. She would add it to the quiet collection of his clothes she had at home, each one a piece of him she never quite returned.

But the question lingered, haunting her.

Would he call her…about the contract’s expiration, or something else entirely?

The rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky, and the rays of sunlight beamed through the room’s window as the morning breeze flapped the curtain.

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” The loud sound of the alarm clock rang through the room, but instead of the groaning sound of someone just waking up, it was a raspy voice.

“What? He’s going to call?” Ariana said in a croaked and frustrated voice, staring at her phone.

The heavy dark circles under her eyes made them look twice their size, and her red nose caused by constant rubbing in frustration stood out like a smear of makeup.

She had been expecting his call since the other night, but he still hadn’t called after leaving her on edge.

“We’re ending it, he should just be a call to approve that,” Ariana muttered to herself, biting her nails and looking at her phone with a heavy expression.

Ariana had never been this anxious before. Even when she was signing the contract back then, she hadn’t gone this crazy, so what changed?

She was so lost in thought that when her apartment door creaked open, she didn’t even notice.

“Ariana! Where are you? Hurry up! Oh my God, what happened to you, girl?” a lady yelled, staring at the ghost-like woman sitting on the bed.

“Kara, please call my phone because I don’t think it’s working anymore,” Ariana said in a panic.

“What the hell happened to you overnight that made you look like a walking ghost?” Kara asked, dialing a number on her phone. Within seconds, Ariana’s phone blared to life.

“Ahhh!” Ariana shrieked loudly at the sudden ring, and Kara jerked back in fear.

“My phone’s not spoiled then why isn’t it receiving calls?” she complained, facing Kara, who gritted her teeth in anger.

Kara looked at the woman talking to herself on the bed and tried to come up with a rational explanation, but none made sense. So she decided to ask directly.

“I’m supposed to be worried as your manager, but does the CEO need to be worried too?” Kara asked, and Ariana shot her a glare.

Kara had been Ariana’s manager ever since she debuted as an actress. She knew all her preferences and dislikes, her family problems especially her scoundrel brother, and even her dirtiest secret.

“What do you mean?” Ariana asked solemnly, still looking at her phone in worry.

Kara studied her face and the phone, trying to guess what was going on.

“Are you waiting for a call?” she asked skeptically, though she already had a subtle idea who it might be.

“He promised to call last night, but he hasn’t,” Ariana said, walking toward the bathroom. Kara was tempted to say what was on her mind.

“I thought you were ending it with him?” she asked, and that halted Ariana’s steps.

She had thought the same thing that she was going to end things with him. But why couldn’t she do it? Why couldn’t she just walk away without looking back?

Why couldn’t she end things and stop this ambiguous relationship?

“I thought so too,” Ariana replied after a long silence before heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day. But the woman staring back at her in the mirror didn’t look like her.

“Who is that? That can’t be me, right? No wonder I gave Kara a scare,” Ariana muttered, looking at her hideous reflection.

“Looks like concealer has a lot to do today,” she sighed, then dumped herself into a tub of fresh water. Even though she knew she didn’t have the time, she had to be on set as soon as she needed it.

But one thought lingered in her mind.

Why isn’t he calling?

—

Inside a moving luxurious car, Logan was buried in a series of paperwork, mumbling curse words whenever he came across something that infuriated him.

His face wasn’t any different from Ariana’s dark circles smudged beneath his eyes, his expression tired and haggard. His top two shirt buttons were undone, and his tie was already missing from his neck.

“So you mean we recorded this much loss from that branch, and it hasn’t been brought to my notice?” Logan asked his assistant in a cold voice. The man swallowed hard under his boss’s dark gaze, which grew deadlier with every passing second.

“Ma’am, Karen was the one in charge...” he began, but a single look from his boss shut him up instantly.

“So my aunt is the one paying your salary?” Logan asked in a voice sharp enough to choke the assistant, who gulped audibly. Even the chauffeur could feel the tension choking the air.

Logan looked outside the moving car, his mood worsening with every thought. His aunt had caused a problem he needed to take care of personally, forcing him to travel to the neighboring country where one of their branches was located.

He stared at the phone in his hand, and when he switched it on, the face displayed on the screen softened his expression. His troubled heart eased for a moment.

Of course, she was his peace.

Logan was tempted to call her, but with their last conversation hanging unfinished, it was better to wait. A call now might make it seem like he didn’t care. He convinced himself to explain everything in person instead.

“We’re here, boss,” Assistant Charles said, quickly stepping out to open the car door, but Logan beat him to it.

Logan eyed the crowded airport, his displeasure clear. Charles, noticing, rushed to explain.

“We could still arrange the private jet, sir,” Charles suggested cautiously, but his boss’s response came cold and firm.

“We’re going quietly. No need to alert anyone,” Logan said, striding into the airport until a billboard froze him mid-step.

He stared at it long and hard, then resumed walking with hurried strides. Only one thought filled his mind.

I’ll be back… to treat you better.

As Logan disappeared into the airport crowd, another man matching his physique was walking out at the same time. They passed by each other without even a glance.

“What a warm welcome,” the man said, smirking as he looked up at the banner hanging in the airport.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to announce that the flight flying to Country J has been delayed due to bad weather conditions. We hope you bear with us as we fix a new departure time,” the airport announcement rang through the mic, and some passengers were seen complaining.

Despite the crowded atmosphere, the young man kept staring at the billboard. He was captivated, his gaze fixed long and hard.

His elegant features made him stand out, and his stylish dressing resembled that of a model on a runway.

He should be around 6ft in height, his long legs straight and firm on the airport’s hard tile.

His dyed blue hair suited him perfectly, making him look like an idol. His black pants and black jacket reeked of money. Everything about him screamed designer. He dropped his side bag beside him while pocketing both hands into his jacket.

A man in his late thirties somewhere in the crowd was busy scanning faces, trying to spot the familiar one he was waiting for. Then, he noticed a man admiring a billboard and hurried toward him.

“Master,” the man’s hurried voice rang out, jolting the young man from his reverie. He hissed in frustration.

The man dropped his side bag without glancing at him, and the other quickly caught it before it hit the ground.

“Took you long enough,” he said, still not sparing the man a glance. The other swallowed a gallon of saliva in fear.

“Aiden, sir, I...” the man began to explain, but Ryan shut him up.

“Who is she?” Ryan asked, pointing at the picture of a lady wearing a flight attendant’s uniform, smiling brightly and wishing everyone a pleasant flight.

The man looked at the billboard and saw the picture of Ariana smiling heartily in the uniform. A smile also formed on his face.

“Her name is Ariana. She’s one of the most successful actresses in the country. She’s starred in almost fifty movies in her six years in the industry and shot about two thousand ads...”

“Enough,” Ryan cut him off.

“Looks like we’ve got a fan here. So, how can I have her for a night?” Ryan asked, and the man gaped at him in shock.

Ryan stared at the billboard picture that had caught his attention, his body responding instantly.

Wow, what a reaction, Ryan mused.

“Sir, I don’t understand what you mean,” the man said, and for the first time that morning, Ryan looked at him.

“Devin says you’re efficient and that you always come in handy. So what now? You can’t get a girl?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow. The man averted his eyes, chilled by his cold stare.

He thought Ryan was crazy. The girl he wanted was an actress, not an escort.

“She’s an actress, sir, not an escort,” the man said, but Ryan wasn’t having it.

“An actress or an escort, aren’t they the same thing?” Ryan said, leaving the spot where he had been standing, taking long strides toward the airport exit. The man hurried after him.

When they stepped out of the airport, the scorching spring sun hit Aiden’s face, but he wasn’t pleased with the warm welcome.

“Still the same shitty weather,” Ryan complained bitterly. The man beside him didn’t reply, only moving ahead to open the car door.

Ryan stepped into the car. The door was closed behind him, and the man ignited the engine, driving out of the airport toward the city’s busy streets.

As the car moved through the buzzing traffic, the man in the back seat stared out of the window with a distant gaze.

Ryan looked out at the familiar old streets, and memories came flooding back, but he blinked them away.

“This is not the time to be weak. It’s time for revenge,” he muttered to himself, remembering those haunting memories.

“I hope you’re ready, Hawthorne, because I’m not sparing anyone,” Ryan mumbled, his gaze darkening. But then, someone’s hazel eyes on another billboard caught his attention and held him captive.

“Does she have her face plastered all over the country?” Ryan asked jokingly, but the driver blushed.

“She has a huge influence in the country, sir, and my daughter is one of her die-hard fans,” the man said, his tone warm, not disapproving.

He must be a good person, Ryan thought.

Since the car was stuck in traffic, he was forced to face those haunting hazel eyes for far too long. His body protested, and he shifted awkwardly, trying not to show his discomfort.

“What’s your name?” Ryan asked, trying to engage him in conversation to distract himself. The man looked delighted that he’d asked.

“Jim, sir,” the man replied politely, and Ryan nodded.

“Hope we get along, Jim,” he said. At that moment, the car finally moved through the traffic, and Ryan sighed in relief, thankful to be free from the silent torment caused by the picture of a woman he hadn’t even met.

“Crash!”

The sound of another car ramming into theirs broke the moment. Ryan gasped in surprise. Without hesitation, he pulled a gun from his side bag and tucked it into his waistband.

He stepped out of the car, scanning the area for threats, but found no suspicious movement on the street.

Did they already catch wind of my plans? he thought. Are they counter-attacking me already? Different possibilities raced through Aiden’s mind as he observed the crowd.

His ears perked up when he heard voices. He walked toward the scene where their car had been hit from behind and saw two unreasonable men still acting cocky despite being at fault.

“Did you mean that lady is your sister?” Ryan asked, pointing at the billboard ad displaying Ariana’s picture promoting cosmetic products.

“Finally, someone who understands English!” one of the men said, and Ryan smirked. But when he noticed how much of a crowd had gathered, he quickly pulled his hoodie up to cover his face.

“Tell them I’m not settling,” Ryan whispered to Jim before smirking wickedly and returning to the car.

“Looks like we’re fated, Miss Ariana,” Ryan said under his breath, amused, and silently thanking God for such good luck.

Inside the dark underground room, the atmosphere was dreadful and littered with rusted tools. The air felt eerie, heavy enough to make anyone tremble in fear.

“Do you know why you’re dying, Nicholas?” a lady clad in all-black attire asked the bruised man groaning on the floor.

She seemed oblivious to everything happening around her as she drowned herself in her monologue.

“I love the way you scream, though,” she said, sliding a knife across his skin. Blood oozed out, and the man yelped in pain while she laughed maniacally.

It seemed the man’s pain brought her pleasure; her expression was blissful, not that of someone inflicting agony.

The only thought in his mind was psychopath. The lady was a fucking psychopath, there was no other explanation for how she could enjoy something so horrid.

“Beg, Nicholas. I want to hear you beg me,” she said, lowering herself to his level and lifting his chin. The man finally saw the woman who had been tormenting him.

He looked into her haunting hazel eyes and swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting his pain.

Her chestnut hair was tied in a ponytail that peeked from beneath her cap. Her blood-red lips suited the scene, and her delicate features could captivate anyone.

If she hadn’t been standing before him as an assassin, he would have taken her to bed and explored every inch of her body.

“Checking me out, Nicholas?” she asked with a sinister smirk, sending shivers down his spine. He shook his head vigorously, but she wasn’t having it.

“Looks like I haven’t passed the message yet,” she said as she began another series of assaults. His screams echoed through the isolated basement until silence returned once more.

“What a hassle,” the lady muttered, staring at the lifeless man on the floor before hissing in disgust.

“You’re a coward, you didn’t even put up much of a fight,” she said, glancing at the floor painted in his blood before shaking her head.

“Adieu, Nicholas,” she said in farewell, turning on her heel and walking briskly away from the dreadful place.

“Cut!” a voice shouted. Lights flared on, brightening the once-dark basement.

The “dead” man groaned, stood, and dusted himself off. When he looked around, it seemed as though everyone was momentarily dazed.

“Ariana, that was a top-notch performance! And Jason, you were admirable as well,” a man in his forties praised them, but the lady referred to as Ariana decided to speak.

“You were really good, Jason,” Ariana said politely, and the young man’s face flushed red as a tomato at being complimented by his senior.

They were on the set of Dirty Assassin, having just wrapped one scene, though Ariana still had several more to shoot.

Clad in her black costume, stained with prop blood, she felt disgusted. When she looked around for her manager, the woman was nowhere to be found.

Several people gave her side glances some admiring, others envious, but she was used to it. As an A-lister, envy came with the territory.

Acting was the only thing that gave her life meaning, so if doing it well meant making enemies, then so be it.

“Ariana, all you have to do is wait while we shoot another scene before returning to yours,” the director said. Something in Ariana bristled.

“I have to wait in this dress while you shoot someone else’s scene, when you could just finish mine and get it over with?” Ariana complained, irritation lacing her tone. The director swallowed hard.

Her words put him in a tight spot, as an A-lister, she couldn’t be offended, but neither could the person backing the other actress.

“Don’t you think you’re being smug? You only need to wait a few minutes,” came a mocking voice from behind her. Ariana turned to see who dared speak to her like that.

It was Vera, another actress in town, beautiful but nowhere near Ariana’s fame.

Ariana took in the woman’s pretentious aura, then looked away as if she were a plague. The reaction clearly irritated Vera.

“Director Cal, if you’re cutting my scenes because of someone who just arrived on set, that’s the most disrespectful thing to do,” Ariana said coldly. The entire crew tensed.

Everyone knew the two women despised each other and constantly competed for dominance, and now the director was caught in the crossfire.

He hesitated, weighing his options. Ariana was an A-lister, but Vera’s backer was far too influential to offend.

“Ariana, I think you’ll have to wait a bit while we quickly shoot Vera’s scenes,” he said at last, and that was his mistake.

“What a joke,” Ariana snickered, making him avert his gaze.

Her breath grew uneven with anger, and she inhaled deeply to steady herself.

Vera looked smug, pleased by the outcome.

Ariana turned toward the exit, deciding to step out for air before she did something she’d regret.

“What’s the point of being an A-lister if you can’t even win the director’s favor?” Vera’s assistant taunted, halting Ariana’s steps.

Ariana turned back, her heavy steps echoing across the room. The dangerous glint in her eyes made the girl shrink back in fear, but Ariana wasn’t interested in her.

“I don’t know how strong your backer is, but I’d advise you to keep sucking on that dick instead of messing with me,” Ariana said coldly. Gasps rippled through the crew at her audacity.

“You!!!” Vera shouted, livid, but Ariana only smiled blissful at having gotten under her skin.

“And instead of hiring an assistant, you should probably get an acting coach. Your last movie was such a flop I almost puked watching it.”

Vera’s face paled with anger, but Ariana didn’t care. She was too furious too.

She had worked her ass off for years just to have a footing in this industry, and this was what she got in return?

She stormed toward the exit, desperate for air away from the suffocating stares of the crew.

“Bang!”

A loud gunshot rang out, making everyone around her gasp as Ariana froze mid-step.