The girl lowered her voice and glanced around.
“A few years ago, an actress killed herself here. She lost a role to Lauren. When it’s quiet… people say you can still hear her crying.”
Lexi looked over the overgrown grass and crumbling buildings.
The place felt abandoned—like it remembered things it shouldn’t.
Lauren fears the living, not the dead, she thought.
Lauren finished her scene flawlessly and walked straight toward Lexi, still radiant under the lights.
The girl who’d warned Lexi had already disappeared.
“See?” Lauren said coolly.
“A thousand times better than you.”
Lexi smiled faintly.
“I have a lot to learn. Like forcing rewrites. Or taking roles that destroy people.”
Lauren’s expression hardened.
“Knowing you is a stain.”
They had grown up in the same orphanage.
But Lauren had always stood above everyone—untouchable.
Lexi had never been her equal.
“I feel the same,” Lexi said, turning away.
She stopped.
Sebastian stood nearby.
His tailored suit was immaculate, his presence heavier than the set itself.
People instinctively made space for him.
“You’re just walking away?” he asked, removing his sunglasses.
“Is this how Blackwood talent behaves?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Blackwood,” Lexi replied evenly.
“I hear you asked for script changes.” His arm circled Lauren’s waist.
“Unhappy with your role?”
Lexi’s eyes flicked to his hand before returning to his face.
“I don’t need to stand beside the queen,” she said calmly.
“Cast me as a villain instead. I’ll make her shine brighter.”
“You’re learning,” he said.
“The script was written for you. Read it. And don’t embarrass me.”
He tossed it at her.
A shout erupted across the set.
Lexi hurried over.
The director was pale, yelling into his megaphone.
Vanessa—Lilian—stood nearby, trembling.
“What happened?” Lexi asked.
“All of Lauren’s footage is gone,” Lilian whispered.
“Completely wiped.”
A murmur spread.
Lauren leaned into Sebastian, eyes glossy.
“You won’t let this go, will you?”
He gently moved her aside and faced the director.
“Find who did it. Bring them to me.”
Crew scattered.
Lauren tugged at his sleeve.
“Who would want to hurt me?”
Sebastian’s gaze landed on Lexi.
Sharp.
Accusing.
“Did you do this?”
Of course.
“No,” Lexi said flatly.
She didn’t look away.
For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—interest, maybe.
“Whether you did or not,” he said coolly, “you’re not leaving my sight.”
An order.
Lexi dropped into a lounge chair and placed the script over her face.
The calmer she appeared, the darker his mood became.
Hours passed.
Nothing turned up.
The director returned, sweating.
“Mr. Blackwood… it must be her. There’s no evidence. No one else had motive.”
Lauren clung to Sebastian again, perfectly fragile.
Lexi stood and walked toward them.
“I told you it wasn’t me,” she said.
“Stop trying to frame me. Or maybe the dead really do collect debts.”
“If it wasn’t you,” Sebastian said, voice steady, “prove it.”
He was enjoying this.
Lexi scanned the set.
“Lilian can vouch for me.”
She’d been with Lilian during Lauren’s final scene.
The director turned to her.
“Say it clearly.”
Lilian hesitated, glancing at Lauren.
Then at Sebastian.
“I… don’t know. It could be her. Or not.”
Lexi exhaled.
Lilian had chosen survival.
Sebastian leaned back, fingers tapping the armrest.
“Anyone else?” he asked lazily.
Silence stretched.
“I can vouch for her.”
The voice was steady and confident—cutting clean through the tension.