Chapter 7

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the conference room walls. The director's booming voice filled the space, a whirlwind of technical jargon and plot details that zipped over my head like a runaway drone. I scribbled furiously in my notepad, desperately trying to keep up, but I didn't understand what he was saying.
"What are they talking about? " I muttered under my breath, the words went right over my head. "Mercy killing?"
Why would anyone be killed? What did that even mean?
It was all too complicated. I felt like I was drowning in information. Every sentence felt laden with pressure, a test I wasn't sure I was passing.
No, I knew that I was failing.
Across the table, Zane sat with an air of nonchalance that bordered on arrogance. He wasn't taking notes, wasn't even looking at the director. Instead, he was doodling something in his notebook, absentmindedly, a stark contrast to my own frantic note-taking. A flicker of curiosity sparked within me. Was he simply unconcerned? Or perhaps this complex world was second nature to him. Probably. It probably was since it was part of the series. I bet the original actress wouldn't have been so confused. The thought gnawed at me, adding another layer to the suffocating tension that had settled in the room.
My frustration bubbled over. "Hey," I hissed, leaning across the table a little. "Are you even listening to this?"
Zane glanced up, his sapphire eyes sparkling with amusement. "Listening? Barely surviving," he admitted with a lazy smile. "But don't worry about it. Half the stuff the director spouts is just buzzwords anyway. They sound impressive, but they rarely translate to anything on screen."
"Easy for you to say," I grumbled. "You probably understand all this stuff already. This is like the fifth installment."
He snorted. "Hardly. Even I get lost in the director's jargon sometimes."
His words offered a sliver of comfort, but the tension remained, a suffocating weight in the sterile air. Every sentence the director uttered felt like a challenge, a test I was destined to fail.
Finally, after an eternity stretched thin, the director called an end to the meeting. Relief washed over me, momentarily dissolving the knot of anxiety in my stomach. As the others filed out, I gathered my belongings, only to realize with a jolt that I'd missed the last bus back to my side of town.
Disappointment gnawed at me. Walking home alone at this hour wasn't exactly ideal, especially in this part of town. I wasn't even in the right headspace to try and get there. My notes were a mess. Just as I resigned myself to a long trek, a familiar voice cut through the quiet evening air.
"Yvonne? Need a lift?"
Quinton stood beside a sleek black car, a sly grin plastered across his face. Despite the convenient timing and a flicker of apprehension, I couldn't deny a sliver of relief. Maybe, I thought, this unexpected encounter could be just the distraction I needed.
"Actually," I began hesitantly, "I wouldn't want to impose…"
Quinton chuckled, his voice smooth as silk. "Nonsense. Hop in. I was just heading back to my lounge, and you look like you could use a drink."
I hesitated for a beat longer, then with a shrug, climbed into the passenger seat. As the car pulled away, my mind couldn't help but wander. What did he want with me? Didn't he have things to do?
The car sped through the deserted streets, the silence broken only by the rhythmic whoosh of the tires. Quinton's grin had vanished, replaced by a steely glint in his eyes.
"So," he drawled, his voice laced with something that sent a shiver down my spine, "care to tell me how you landed the lead role with Zane?"
I stiffened. The question hung heavy in the air, a thinly veiled accusation. "I auditioned," I said tightly, forcing a nonchalance I didn't feel.
Quinton snorted a humorless sound. "Spare me the act, Yvonne. We all know the rumors. Sebastian doesn't just hand out roles to pretty faces, especially unknown faces. I've heard the rumors. Everyone thinks it, and you're not the first."
His words were laced with a bitterness that surprised me. Was he… jealous? The thought sparked a flicker of something unexpected within me. Then, the bitterness came.
"There's nothing going on between me and Sebastian," I lied, my voice trembling slightly.
"You're lying." Quinton's gaze pinned me to my seat. "And there better not continue to be," he growled, a low rumble that sent a tremor through me. "You have potential, Yvonne. Don't throw it all away for a quick shot at the top."
His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Before I could respond, Quinton reached across the console and gripped my chin, his touch surprisingly gentle. Then, in a move so swift it took my breath away, he leaned in and kissed me.
It was a hard, demanding kiss fueled by a raw intensity that left me breathless. When he finally pulled away, his eyes blazed with a hunger that both terrified and exhilarated me.
Just then, the car screeched to a halt in front of a nondescript building. I stumbled out of the car, my head spinning. As Quinton led me towards a dimly lit doorway, a figure emerged from the shadows, his features obscured by the darkness.
He was tall, with a broad frame that hinted at hidden power. But it was his face that truly stole my breath. He was sculpted with the sharp angles and perfect symmetry of a Grecian myth, his features cast in a honeyed hue that seemed to glow even in the dim light. His eyes, the color of a deep emerald lake, held a mesmerizing intensity that sent a jolt through me.
"Yvonne," Quinton said, his voice rough with something akin to possessiveness, "meet Jason."
So this was Jason. The enigmatic top earner, the man whose work fetched a king's ransom. And as I gazed upon his breathtaking beauty, a feeling unlike anything I'd ever experienced washed over me – a sense of awe, a flicker of something that might have been… desire.