Chapter 6
She was done letting Lauren humiliate her—on screen or off.
Sebastian’s gaze darkened.
“You still think you can negotiate?”
“If I don’t,” Lexi said, standing tall, “give it to someone who will. You’re busy. I shouldn’t waste your time.”
He paused. That stubbornness intrigued him.
A low laugh escaped him.
“Fine. Show me what you can do. Fail, and you face the consequences.”
Lexi smiled faintly. Lauren’s arrogance no longer scared her.
“Tomorrow,” Sebastian added, stepping close, a dangerous curl to his lips, “Connor will take you to set. Be ready.”
He left.
Early the next morning, Connor drove Lexi in a black armored Rolls-Royce to Fallen Empire—a period drama and Blackwood Syndicate front.
Lauren was the lead. Lexi? A lowborn side character, scripted to suffer: few lines, lots of slaps.
The overnight rewrite made it worse—every scene humiliated her.
“So?” Lauren approached, flawless in a jewel-toned gown. “I gave you a great role, didn’t I?”
Lexi, in a servant’s costume, looked like dust beneath polished shoes.
“You went through so much trouble,” she said, coolly. “Such a wonderful role.”
She tossed the script on the table.
“Call me when it’s my scene.”
The director was about to scold her, but Lauren smiled sweetly.
“If you’re free, buy coffee for everyone. And mine to my dressing room.”
Lexi left silently. After dozens of coffees, her wallet was empty. No outside work allowed—Sebastian controlled her paycheck.
Delivering Lauren’s coffee, Lexi faced her tormentor.
“I didn’t expect you to be this good at seducing men,” Lauren said, smirking.
Lexi said nothing. Sebastian had ensured she got the role despite Lauren’s protests.
Fine. Lexi had time. Plenty of time to survive her torment.
“Oh dear,” Lauren said, lifting the cup. “It’s cold. Get me another.”
Lexi returned minutes later. Lauren sipped—and spat it out.
“Alexandra Starling! Are you trying to scald me?”
Lexi smiled.
“Exactly. Cold coffee is bad for your health—I reheated it for you. Not happy? Buy it yourself.”
Lauren’s face twisted in rage.
The director walked in, stunned by coffee stains on her costume.
“What happened?”
Lauren played the victim. “She did it on purpose!”
“Alexandra Starling,” the director barked, “either pay for the costume or leave.”
Lexi turned to go. “If Blackwood asks, I’ll tell him who decided this.”
As she reached the door, a warm male voice stopped her.
“Excuse me.”
A tall man in a white suit stepped in, calm and composed.
“I’ll pay for the costume. She’s new. Let’s not make things difficult.”
He looked at the director, then Lauren. Silence fell.
