Chapter 6
The Golden Dome was the crown jewel of Harrowfell's fine dining scene-a restaurant where understated luxury met impeccable taste. Every corner radiated elegance, from the soft, golden lighting to the discreet hum of classical music.
Inside one of the private rooms, Gary raised his glass, his expression brimming with guilt. "Ms. Vaire, I owe you an apology regarding the lead actress role. I promised you but couldn't deliver. I'm deeply sorry." Paisley knew Gary well enough. This wasn't their first collaboration, and she understood his character. To Gary, the sanctity of art outweighed everything. If it hadn't been unavoidable, he would never have agreed to let Brittany into the project.
"Mr. Anderson, there's no need for apologies. I understand your hands were tied. It's not your fault," Paisley replied calmly, her tone devoid of blame. After all, even the most resolute director couldn't stand firm under the crushing weight of capital and influence.
Gary sighed with relief, but his guilt lingered. Without waiting for a response, he downed another glass of wine, the flush of alcohol creeping across his face. "Ms. Vaire, thank you for your understanding," he murmured, almost to himself.
In the industry, Paisley worked under the pseudonym Nion Vaire-a name that had garnered respect for her compelling scripts.
Gary had always admired her and hoped to collaborate with her again. His regret over breaking their agreement gnawed at him, and it showed in the way he nervously nursed his drink.
As a man in his fifties with a low tolerance for alcohol, Gary quickly began showing the telltale signs of intoxication.
His face turned beet red, and his words grew slightly slurred. "Ms. Vaire, I swear to you, I'll give this my all. I won't let your work be tarnished."
Paisley offered him a faint, polite smile, but her thoughts remained elsewhere. This situation had long outgrown Gary's control.
"Mr. Anderson, do you have any idea who's behind Brittany's sudden rise?" she asked after a pause. Her voice was calm but deliberate, her sharp intuition zeroing in on the real key-the mysterious figure behind Brittany.
Gary's face scrunched with uncertainty. "I don't know," he admitted as he shook his head.
Paisley wasn't surprised. She figured that whoever was backing Brittany was someone powerful enough
to keep their involvement concealed. They didn't step into the spotlight-they merely issued orders and had others execute their will.
Paisley nodded slightly, choosing not to press further.
as the door slid open, revealing a waiter carrying artfully plated
heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Dominick was already
city lights glimmering faintly beyond the glass. One long, slender finger tapped idly against the table, a rhythm that betrayed his distracted mind. Marissa snapped out of her daze. Her lips curved
over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. "I haven't been waiting long," he replied, his tone distant,
across from him, motioning for
preferences I should know about?" she asked with a practiced
didn't immediately respond. His gaze drifted for a few moments as if her question had only just registered. "Anything's fine," he said eventually,
Her smile only seemed to brighten. "Alright
slight nod, his attention already slipping back to whatever thoughts had occupied
behind him did she allow herself a playful sigh. "Honestly, Kayla's something else. She's the one inviting us and the
annoyance. Kayla Vanderbilt, Dominick's younger sister, had been coddled her entire life, which made her a spoiled, headstrong woman with little sense of boundaries and a penchant for making noise wherever she went. Marissa chuckled softly, covering her mouth in
her sharp eyes carefully studied Dominick's expression, trying to catch any flicker of reaction. "By the way, Dom, have you
shift crossed Dominick's features, a flicker of something unreadable. "Yes, I've seen them." "And?" Marissa prodded gently, clearly fishing for
yourself with that gossip. I've already instructed Julian to handle it. By now, it should be scrubbed clean,"
picked up her phone and opened a few apps, only to confirm his words. The scandalous stories about
"It doesn't bother me. As long as it
of dismissal and rejection. "I've already
on the subtle rebuff hidden in his words. Her smile stiffened
private room, the atmosphere growing heavy. It was a relief when the waiter
at the intrusion, and as the waiter set down the plates, she spoke in a casual, almost offhand manner, "Oh,
composed
from the hospital last time." She paused to delicately cut into her steak, savoring a bite before adding, "Well, it makes sense. A woman as beautiful as Ms. Sutton is bound to have men vying for her attention. It's only natural for her to have a few
from his seat. His face remained impassive, offering no clues to his thoughts as
fork, her smile fading into a blank stare. Any trace of her earlier nonchalance was gone, replaced by a shadowed intensity in
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