Chapter 3

A sarcastic smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Fitting, wasn't it? Things acquired in the dark could never stand the light of day.

If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't have had the stomach to stick around either.

Rachel, however, clearly saw things differently.

She completely discarded the warning I had just given her, wheeling on the other actors with furious accusation in her eyes. "What did you say to him?"

Looking at the rigid posture of her back, the last shred of my respect for her evaporated entirely.

In my memory, she had always been a sharp, decisive woman.

She was brilliant, endlessly ambitious, and meticulously thorough down to the smallest detail.

I used to believe she possessed an almost magical charm.

She could smooth over any crisis with finesse, ensuring every single party walked away feeling valued.

In our early days, watching her hustle that hard always made my heart ache for her.

It drove me to climb faster, to reach the top tier of this industry so that she would have the leverage and prestige she deserved.

Now, Rachel finally had all the clout she could ever want.

Yet, she was using that hard-won power exclusively to shield and nurture another man.

Her eyes were entirely blinded by Austin Reed.

Even when the actors stammered nervously, "We didn't say anything, Rachel... we just congratulated him," she didn't believe a word of it.

Instead, her tone turned openly hostile and threatening. "If you want better roles, earn them through your own hustle! Don't go pulling underhanded, dirty little tricks behind people's backs."

"You are all signed under my name. You should be supporting each other. If I catch wind of anyone hazing, isolating, or bullying Austin, I won't let it slide. Consider that a promise."

I scoffed under my breath.

The sheer absurdity of the woman was almost comical.

She threw that tantrum entirely to protect Austin, yet the kid wasn't even in the room to witness her grand defense. All she had managed to do was thoroughly alienate every single other client she represented.

For a moment, I didn't know whether to mock her cleverness or pity her stupidity.

Knowing she was doing all of this for another man, why should I bother intervening?

Watching her burn every bridge, turning her entire roster against her until she choked on the ashes of her own mistakes... wouldn't that be the ultimate karma?

Even as that thought crossed my mind, a sudden wave of raw fury flared up against my ribs.

Did she give a damn about our years together? Did she hear a single word I had just said?

She was trampling over my boundaries again and again.

Did she genuinely believe I was so hopelessly wrapped around her finger that I would never push back?

Seeing that her little outburst wasn't enough, she turned toward the entryway, grabbing her coat to chase after Austin.

I reached out, clamping a hand down on her forearm to block her path.

Staring at her with icy, unflinching eyes, I pressed her. "Rachel. Are you sure you want to walk out that door for him?"

A flicker of hesitation crossed her face.

Just when I thought she might finally pull her head out of the clouds, she looked up at me with dead-eyed conviction.

"Leo, Austin’s mental state is fragile. I’m terrified he might do something reckless."

"I'm his manager. His personal safety is my responsibility. Just wait for me to get back, and I'll explain everything."

Her hand came up, shoving mine away. My arm dropped lifelessly to my side.

I didn't turn around.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the heavy latch falling into place, I whispered a silent truth in my heart.

There’s no need to explain, Rachel. You will never have the chance to explain anything to me ever again.

I turned back toward the dining room. The remaining actors were standing awkwardly beside the table, looking like deer caught in headlights.

"Leo..." one of them murmured, their voice laced with anxiety.

"Sit down and eat," I said calmly. "It’s a waste to throw out this much food. Eat up, and head home early to get some rest."

Leaving those words behind, I turned on my heel and retreated into my bedroom.

True to my word, they finished their meal quietly and cleared out, making sure to call out a respectful goodbye before slipping out the door.

When the apartment finally sank into dead silence, there was still no sign of Rachel returning.

Not that I was sitting by the door waiting for her anyway.

Looking down at the packed duffel bags sitting on the hardwood floor, I pulled out my phone and dialed my assistant first.

Once the logistics were handled, I opened my messaging thread with Rachel.

I typed out five words and hit send:

"We are over. It's done."