Chapter 6

The Golden Dome, Harrowdell’s finest restaurant, hummed with understated luxury. Soft golden light bathed the private room where Cary raised his glass. Guilt etched his face. "Ms. Vaire, I apologize about the lead actress. I promised, but couldn't deliver. I'm so sorry."

Paisley, a seasoned collaborator, understood. "Mr. Anderson, no apologies needed. I understand your hands were tied. It’s not your fault," she said calmly. Even the strongest director couldn't defy capital and influence.

Relieved, Gary downed his wine. The alcohol flushed his face. "Thank you for understanding," he murmured. His regret was palpable. Working under the pseudonym Nion Vaire, Paisley was respected for her compelling scripts. Gary, admiring her, hoped for future collaborations.

His low alcohol tolerance quickly took hold. His face reddened, his words slurred. "Ms. Vaire, I swear, I'll give this my all. I won't let your work be tarnished." Paisley smiled politely, her mind elsewhere. This went far beyond Gary's control.

"Mr. Anderson, any idea who's behind Brittany's sudden rise?" she asked. Her calm voice hid sharp intuition.

Gary shook his head. "I don't know."

Paisley wasn't surprised. Brittany's backer was powerful and discreet, issuing orders from the shadows. She chose not to press further.

The waiter arrived with their food. As the door opened and closed, a figure glimpsed inside.

Elsewhere, Marissa entered another private room. Dominick lounged by the window, city lights shimmering beyond the glass. He tapped a finger on the table, a restless rhythm.

Marissa smiled. "Sorry I'm late."

Dominick glanced over, his expression unreadable. "Haven't been waiting long," he replied distantly.

Marissa sat, requesting a menu. "Anything you'd like? Any preferences?"

Dominick's gaze drifted. "Anything's fine," he finally said, indifferent.

Marissa's smile didn't falter. "Alright, I'll take care of it."

"Sure," he replied, his attention already elsewhere. After ordering, Marissa sighed playfully once the waiter left. "Honestly, Kayla's something else. She invited us, then bailed."

"It's fine. Without her, it's quieter," Dominick said calmly.

Kayla, Dominick's spoiled younger sister, was notorious for her noise and lack of boundaries.

Marissa chuckled, covering her mouth. "Careful, Dom. If she hears that…"

She leaned closer, studying him. "By the way, Dom, seen the entertainment headlines?"

A flicker crossed Dominick's face. "Yes."

"And…?" Marissa prodded gently.

"Don't concern yourself. Julian's handled it. It's scrubbed clean," Dominick said, sipping his water.

Marissa's fingers twitched, but her composure remained. She checked her phone, confirming his words. The scandalous stories had vanished.

Her smile wavered, then returned. "It doesn't bother me. As long as it doesn't cause you trouble." Dominick's tone held a faint dismissal. "I've spoken to PR. Such incidents won't happen again."

Marissa sensed the rebuff. Her smile stiffened, but she masked it well. A quiet unease settled over the room. The waiter's arrival with their meals was a welcome interruption.

Marissa casually mentioned, "Oh, that reminds me, I think I saw Ms. Sutton earlier."

Dominick remained impassive. Marissa continued, "She seems to have a new boyfriend. Older this time, unlike the young guy from the hospital." She paused, cutting into her steak. "A woman as beautiful as Ms. Sutton… men will vie for her attention."

"I'm going to the restroom," Dominick said abruptly, rising. He offered no clues as he left.

The moment he closed the door, Marissa's facade crumbled. She signaled the waiter. "Dessert to go," she ordered, her tone clipped.

Gary, fueled by alcohol, launched into a tirade about the industry, investors, fickle audiences, and lazy young actors.

"Mr. Anderson," Paisley interrupted politely, "Lucy's been in the restroom ages. I should check on her." She needed an escape from his drunken monologue.

Stepping out, she saw Dominick. Her breath caught. His gaze held the same magnetic pull that could unravel her composure instantly. He was a man whose presence commanded her full attention.

Gary's voice boomed from the room: "Don't take too long! I've got so much more to say! You're the only one who gets me!"

Dominick sneered. "So this is what you've sunk to? Not picky at all, are you? Is money that important?"

Paisley stiffened. This wasn't the time or place. She turned to leave, but Dominick grabbed her arm, pulling her against him. His breath brushed her ear. "How much does it pay to be an old man's sugar baby? 200 grand? 300 grand?"

"Let go of me, Dominick," Paisley said icily. "Stop projecting your filthy thoughts."

"Filthy thoughts?" he retorted, his grip tightening. "Why don't we talk about your filthy actions? If it's money you want, just ask. Beg me, and who knows…"

Paisley slapped him hard across the face. "What the hell is wrong with you, Dominick?"