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.
carrying artfully plated dishes. As the door moved, a figure passed outside, briefly glancing
the polished floor. Dominick
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
unreadable. "I haven't been waiting long," he replied,
him, motioning for
eat? Or any preferences I should know about?" she asked with a practiced ease, her smile
drifted for a few moments as if her question had only just registered. "Anything's fine," he said eventually,
of enthusiasm, she didn't show it. Her smile only seemed to brighten. "Alright then, I'll
slight nod, his attention already slipping back
behind him did she
Kayla Vanderbilt, Dominick's younger sister, had been coddled her entire life, which made her a spoiled, headstrong woman with little sense
to catch any flicker of reaction. "By the way, Dom, have you seen the entertainment
flicker of something unreadable. "Yes, I've seen them." "And?" Marissa prodded gently, clearly
concern yourself with that gossip. I've already instructed Julian to handle it. By now, it should be scrubbed clean," Dominick replied, lifting his glass of sparkling water and sipping it with unhurried
fingers twitched ever so slightly, though her expression remained composed. She picked up her phone and opened a few apps, only to confirm his
doesn't bother me. As long as it doesn't cause you any
of dismissal and rejection. "I've already spoken to
on the subtle rebuff hidden in his words. Her smile stiffened at the edges, but
room, the atmosphere growing heavy. It was
down the plates, she spoke in a
face remained as composed as
to delicately cut into her steak, savoring a bite before adding, "Well, it makes
said abruptly, rising from his seat.
behind him, Marissa's elegant facade crumbled. She put down her knife and fork, her smile fading into a blank stare. Any trace of her earlier nonchalance was gone,
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