Chapter 278

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, illuminating the scattered scripts on her coffee table. She sighed, running a hand through her tousled auburn hair as she reread the latest revisions. The role was challenging—a woman torn between love and ambition—and Evelyn couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her concentration. A text from her agent, Serena Whitmore, flashed on the screen:

"Nathan Blackwood just confirmed for the lead. Filming starts Monday. You’re welcome."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. Nathan Blackwood—Hollywood’s most enigmatic heartthrob, notorious for his brooding intensity and scandalous past. They’d never worked together before, but the rumors alone were enough to make her pulse quicken.

She typed back, fingers trembling slightly: "Since when does he do rom-coms?"

Serena’s reply was instant: "Since the paycheck had an extra zero. And since the director promised creative control. Don’t overthink it. Chemistry reads are tomorrow. Don’t be late."

Evelyn groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch. Chemistry reads with Nathan Blackwood? The man who’d famously walked off set last year after a co-star mispronounced his character’s name? This was either a career-making opportunity or a disaster waiting to happen.

Across town, Nathan leaned against the polished mahogany bar of his private lounge, swirling a glass of bourbon. His manager, Marcus Donovan, eyed him warily.

"You’re really doing this?" Marcus asked. "A fluffy romance? After turning down three Oscar-bait dramas?"

Nathan smirked, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his face. "Evelyn Sinclair’s attached. She’s… interesting."

Marcus raised a brow. "Interesting? Or are you just bored?"

Nathan didn’t answer. He’d seen Evelyn’s work—raw, unfiltered emotion wrapped in effortless charm. She wasn’t like the others. And that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

Meanwhile, in a sleek high-rise office, Victoria Hayes—Nathan’s former secretary and current thorn in Evelyn’s side—scrolled through the casting announcement with a scowl. She’d spent years curating Nathan’s image, steering him away from "beneath him" projects like this. And now Evelyn Sinclair waltzed in?

Victoria’s nails tapped against her desk. If Nathan wanted to play with fire, she’d make sure Evelyn got burned.

Back in her penthouse, Evelyn stared at the script again, a new determination settling in her chest. She wouldn’t let Nathan Blackwood—or his drama—derail this. She’d worked too hard.

But as she rehearsed her lines, she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her stomach. Tomorrow, she’d face the man who’d haunted tabloids and daydreams alike. And somehow, she already knew: nothing about this would go as planned.

Anxiety gnawed at Beatrice's father as he barked into the phone, "Where the hell have you been? We've been searching everywhere! Who are you with? Why aren't you answering your calls?"

A tense silence stretched before Beatrice finally responded, her voice laced with confusion. "What’s the big deal? I got a sudden burst of inspiration and worked in the car. I had my phone on silent—I always do that. Didn’t you say you didn’t need me there?"

The Holloways exhaled in relief, recalling her habit of disappearing into her creative zone. "Just come home. Something’s happened. And—have you seen Lucas?"

"No. What’s going on?"

The Holloways exchanged uneasy glances before replying, "We’ll explain when you get back."

As soon as the call ended, they turned to Luna and Caleb, their expressions hardening. "You heard her?"

Luna and Caleb exchanged skeptical looks. Too convenient. Something’s off.

"Who knows what’s really going on?" Luna muttered stubbornly.

Caleb remained silent, but his narrowed eyes spoke volumes.

"Well, we’ll see how long you can keep spinning lies. At this rate, we might have to reconsider this entire arrangement," the Holloways snapped.

After the way they’ve insulted our daughter, we can’t just let this slide.

But instead of Beatrice, it was Lucas who walked through the door next.

His reappearance instantly drew everyone’s attention—especially since he had changed clothes.

Lydia, ever trusting, was the first to speak. "Didn’t I send you to handle something? Where have you been? You were gone for ages, and no one could reach you!"

Lucas lifted his freshly bandaged hand, the gauze stained with blood. "Sorry, Aunt Lydia. I did go, but I took a nasty fall. My clothes were soaked, and I cut my hand. Had to patch myself up before coming back. And my phone—" He held up the device, water still dripping from it. "—got waterlogged. It’s dead."

Lydia sighed in relief, satisfied.

But Caleb wasn’t buying it. He stepped forward, eyes blazing. "What a convenient excuse. Both of you just happen to vanish at the same time, and both your phones happen to fail? Do you really think we’re that stupid?"

His words hung in the air, sharp as a blade.

The tension was suffocating.

And the truth?

It was far from over.

"Stop pretending!" Caleb Moore's voice was laced with venom as he glared at Lucas Thornton. "Did you sleep with my fiancée? How could you betray me like this? At our engagement party, no less! You're nothing but a filthy traitor!"

Lucas scoffed, his expression darkening. "What the hell are you even talking about? Someone explain this nonsense to me."

Vivian Grant watched Luna Morgan with icy disdain. Even now, she refuses to control herself. Does she truly not care about the Winters family's reputation?

A bystander quickly recounted the events, and Lucas burst into laughter. "So, based on baseless rumors, you're accusing me without proof? By that logic, why don’t you check everyone’s phones? If someone left early or was too busy to answer, would you accuse them of cheating too?"

"I saw it with my own eyes!" Luna snapped, refusing to back down.

Lucas’s chest tightened as he looked at her. I thought I was numb to this pain, but it still feels like a knife twisting in my chest. Does she really hate me this much? That twisted, ugly expression—it’s exactly like Mother’s. And Mother orchestrated this whole mess. I’m so damn tired of this.

"So," Lucas said, his voice heavy with exhaustion, "just because I told Mother about your plans to join the entertainment industry and stopped you, you decided to destroy me? Our relationship has always been strained, but we’re still siblings! There should be limits to your cruelty." The raw disappointment in his voice made a few onlookers hesitate.

After all, Luna was known for being impulsive and selfish. And their sibling rivalry was no secret.

"You—!" Luna stammered, caught in her own lie. She could only double down. "It’s the truth! You are involved with her! You’re obsessed with your own cousin’s fiancée!"

Lucas’s expression darkened instantly.

Caleb smirked. His reaction says it all. Something definitely happened. And if it did… I’ll make sure he pays.

"Hmph! I don’t believe a word you say. We’ll settle this once Beatrice returns," Caleb declared. There’s no way he’s walking away from this unscathed. Unless the heavens themselves intervene.

As if on cue, a flicker of panic crossed Lucas’s face. Caleb’s triumph surged.

"We’re innocent," Lucas said coolly. "But if you insist on making a scene, fine. However, you’re coming with me first. I still have un business for Mrs. Grant, and you’re going to help me."

His demand was baffling.

Some assumed he was putting duty first, proving his integrity.

Others wondered if he was guilty—trying to bribe or threaten Caleb into silence.

Caleb’s smirk widened. Look at you, Lucas Thornton, always so composed. Now you’re scrambling. This is going to be fun.

"What could possibly be more urgent than clearing your name?" Caleb demanded, tilting his chin up with an air of defiance.

"It's a private family matter. Come with me." Lucas's voice carried an edge of desperation, which only fueled Caleb's smug satisfaction.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait right here for Beatrice to return," Caleb retorted, his lips curling into a smirk. He felt invincible, as if he had already won.

"Aunt Ava, I truly can't handle this alone. I need Caleb's help," Lucas pleaded, turning to Ava with a look of urgency.

Ava, sharp as ever, suspected Lucas was trying to manipulate Caleb into changing his story. Still, she nodded. "Go with him, Caleb. Don't be difficult. We can discuss everything when you return."

A surge of resentment flared in Caleb's chest. She always takes his side. But then, a darker thought crossed his mind—It doesn’t matter. Even if I go with him, the doubt about Lucas and Beatrice will linger in everyone’s minds. No matter what he says or does, he can’t erase that. A cruel smile tugged at his lips. In his panic, he’s only digging his own grave. Fine, I’ll go. I want to watch him crumble.

"Let me make one thing clear," Caleb announced loudly, ensuring everyone heard him. "If you think I’ll help you cover up your mess, you’re delusional."

He brushed past Lucas, but the latter didn’t follow immediately. Instead, Lucas approached Ava, his expression unreadable. Leaning in, he whispered words meant only for her ears:

"I'm sorry, Aunt Ava. But he crossed the line this time. I won’t spare him."

Ava’s breath hitched. A flicker of sorrow passed through her knowing eyes before she steadied herself. "I understand."

The air between them grew heavy with unspoken regret—but the game was already in motion.