The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 203

Clarence was thirty now. He'd set his sights on Innocent as his ticket back into the spotlight-one last brilliant performance, a shot at an award, and then he could bow out of the industry for good. It would be the perfect ending to his career.

Seraphina, meanwhile, was the darling of the tabloids, beloved on social media but still without a single breakout role to her name. Desperate to land the lead in Innocent, she'd swallowed her pride and done the unthinkable: spent the night with the company's CEO. If she didn't get this part, that humiliation would have been for nothing.

Now, the three of them stared expectantly at Citrine, waiting for her to give in.

Everyone assumed she'd cave-after all, Eclipse Studios practically ran Hollywood in Havencrest, and nobody wanted to cross them. But Citrine's next words caught them all off guard.

"I've already given you a chance. Don't waste your time. As of now, our contract is over." Her gaze was icy as she looked at Fowler, her tone resolute.

"Obsidian, are you sure?" Fowler pressed, his patience fraying. "You're breaking the contract. You'll have to pay the penalty."

Fowler was a respected director in the industry, and he'd tried every angle to talk her around. But Citrine showed him no deference; his genial expression was slowly giving way to something much darker.

"I'm willing to pay." Citrine met his brooding eyes, calm and unyielding.

dollars,"

a soft, almost amused laugh. "Even if it

assumed Citrine, being so young, would be intimidated by Eclipse Studios' power. They never expected her to stand

to laugh—a

a mouth for someone your age," he sneered. "If you break your contract with Eclipse, I promise you:

glinted with menace, the threat in his

Fowler, you really don't have to worry about that. I'd rather see the rights rot than sell them

Edith turned

expression never changed, not for

twisting in her

are you really not going to sell

Citrine answered

the rights to Innocent? What do we do now?" Edith was on edge, regretting ever having sold

bundle of nerves, practically pacing,