Chapter 4
Paisley burst into her Harrowfell studio, only to be met by Lacy’s grim face. “Mr. Anderson texted,” Lacy said hesitantly. “Brittany Sullivan got the lead.”
Paisley’s brows snapped together. “Absolutely not. We had an agreement.”
“I think it’s too late,” Lacy said, showing her Instagram. “They announced it.”
Paisley snatched her phone. Two calls to Anderson went straight to voicemail. The third connected. “Ms. Vaire, what a surprise!” Anderson’s voice was mockingly jovial.
“Spare the pleasantries,” Paisley snapped. “We agreed Brittany wasn’t an option.”
Anderson chuckled nervously. “Verbal agreements don’t hold much weight.”
“Then don’t blame me for what happens next,” Paisley retorted.
“Wait!” Anderson’s sigh was heavy with frustration. “The investors demanded her. If I refuse, they’ll blacklist me.”
Paisley’s breath hitched. “Which investor?”
“All of them,” Gary mumbled, defeated. “Brittany has someone powerful backing her.”
Paisley’s grip tightened on the phone. She understood; this was beyond Gary’s control.
“What’s the deal with Brittany?” Lacy asked, bewildered. “She’s D-list!”
Paisley frowned. “Her adoptive parents are my biological parents.”
Lacy’s eyes widened. “Fake heiress?”
Paisley’s bitter smile was a testament to the irony. She’d been missing for fifteen years, returning to find Brittany firmly entrenched as the beloved daughter. Their reunion was met with hostility, not joy. After numerous conflicts, Paisley cut ties. It was during that time she met Dominick.
Meanwhile, at Sullivan Villa, Brittany scrolled through Instagram, grinning. “Mom, it’s official! I’m going to be famous!” she chirped, snuggling into Christina Sullivan’s arms.
Christina beamed. “Wonderful news, sweetheart.”
Brittany smirked. “I don’t know what Paisley Vaire’s problem is. But I got the lead!”
“You should thank Mr. Vanderbilt,” Christina said. “He’s been so generous.”
Brittany blushed. “Mr. Vanderbilt has indeed been very kind.” Three months ago, a man claiming to be Dominick’s assistant had contacted her, offering assistance. Since then, opportunities had poured in, even benefiting the Sullivan family.
“Such a pity he’s about to get married,” Christina sighed, looking at Brittany. “Brittany’s so much better than his fiancée.”
Brittany dismissed it. “As long as Mr. Vanderbilt treats me well, I don’t care about a title.”
“If he didn’t have feelings for you, why would he help?” Christina mused, a hint of regret in her voice.
Brittany’s curiosity was piqued. “Mr. Vanderbilt has a son, doesn’t he? I can’t imagine what kind of woman would leave him. She’s probably sobbing over her regret.”
Christina laughed. “Some people aren’t cut out for the good life. Look at that wretch, Paisley. Always scheming, always ungrateful. She deserves it.”
Brittany’s expression faltered. “Mom, don’t be angry at Paisley. It’s my fault. I took her place. I was young and foolish, and I made her mad.”
“Don’t ruin a good day,” Christina interrupted, squeezing Brittany’s hand. “You’ve done us proud.”
Christina leaned in. “Since Mr. Vanderbilt helped you, invite him for dinner.”