When I first met Kate Winslet, she was just an aspiring dancer, practicing for hours on end, hoping for a chance to be a backup dancer in a low-profile show.

She clung to the hem of my jacket, pleading for my support.

So, I became her manager for ten years.

I also became her secret lover for a decade.

After ten years, she finally became a superstar.

Nestled in the arms of the young master of the Moore family, Vincent Moore, she playfully said, "Clark Moore is just my manager. We're from different worlds. I could never fall for him."

I stood behind her, wearing a wry smile.

What she didn't know was that I was the rightful heir to the Moore Group. I had only stayed in the shadows for her sake, fulfilling her dreams.

***

I stood at the doorway, watching as Kate nestled against Vincent's shoulder.

Her fluffy curls were draped over his arm, her face flushed and eyes glazed with adoration.

She giggled and said, "Clark is just my manager.

"We come from different worlds. I could never fall for him."

My stomach twisted in pain.

Vincent, upon hearing this, looked up with a knowing smirk, his eyes narrowing as he cast a sideways glance at me behind the door.

It felt like a silent declaration of war.

I could only blink back tears and quietly close the door behind me.

Kate's career was on the rise; it was crucial to avoid any scandal at such a pivotal moment.

Logan Ridley, standing by the lounge door, looked at me as if he had seen a ghost, his face draining of color.

He seemed torn, unsure whether to call Kate or not.

Ultimately, he decided to approach me.

Logan said, trying to justify the situation, "That guy is the young master of the Moore family. He's Kate's first love and could potentially introduce her to Director Dent. Kate had no other choice."

I didn't look at him, merely scoffing, "No other choice?"

Logan grew agitated. "You can't help with Director Dent's films. This is a rare chance for her.

"And besides. It's just an act.

"Don't be selfish and mess up Kate's future!"

I gave a bitter laugh, thinking, "Messing up Kate's future?"

When I got her drunk call, I had been negotiating scripts with director Laird Borden.

I didn't know how much I had drunk in hopes of getting a chance, almost ending up hospitalized with a bleeding stomach.

All for a single invitation from Laird, which now seemed like it might go to waste.

I hadn't realized that everyone around me viewed me this way.

I glared at Logan. "Logan, remember when I brought you on board, thinking highly of you?

"You're doing well with Kate. Don't come looking for me anymore."

Logan froze, a wave of helplessness washing over him.

I straightened my back and walked out of the venue.

I suddenly remembered how Kate used to be unable to handle alcohol.

Once, I nearly ended up in the hospital trying to secure a resource for her.

After that, she started learning to drink.

In her early twenties, Kate nearly had her stomach pumped from drinking, but she just smiled and said it was no big deal.

Back then, I knew she truly cared about me.

Vincent, Kate's first love, had left the country years ago, and they lost touch.

But now, Vincent was back.

The phone rang sharply, and I saw it was Logan calling.

I rubbed my temples and answered.

"Clark, something's gone wrong. Check the trending topics!" Logan's voice was fraught with urgency.

I quickly opened the trending section, and the top headline read: [Superstar Kate Spotted with Former Lover.]

The accompanying photo confirmed it.

Vincent was blurred out, but Kate's drunken face was crystal clear.

A sharp pang of discomfort hit me.

"What do we do, Clark?" Logan's voice was almost frantic.

"Put Kate on the line."

I had planned what to say, but when I heard Kate's voice, my confidence wavered.

"What's your plan?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral, hoping to defuse the tension between us.

There was a pause on the other end.

"We can't let Vincent be exposed. He's just back at the Moore Group and hasn't established himself yet."

I struggled to keep my voice steady, my heart racing. "So, you want to take the blame for everything yourself?"

Kate's response was barely a whisper. "Yes."

My mind went blank, and my lips trembled with anger.

I shouted, "Is Vincent really that important to you?

"Important enough to throw away ten years of hard work?

"Or is our future just meaningless to you?"

Kate seemed taken aback by my outburst, her voice trembling as she responded, "Clark, you're yelling at me!"

Realizing I'd lost my composure, I tried to calm down.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to..."

But she had already hung up.

I was left seething with frustration. In ten years, had I ever spoken to her like that before? Nope.

A memory surfaced—an online post I had seen while trying to clean up some negative press.

It was about Kate and Vincent's ten-year promise.

The post claimed that Vincent and Kate were childhood sweethearts who had been forced apart—one going abroad, the other pursuing a career in entertainment. They had set a ten-year deadline to meet again at the top of their respective fields.

I felt a knot in my chest.

I thought, "If that's the case, where do I fit into this? Have all my efforts over the past decade been just to set her up with Vincent?"

I recalled the early days—when Kate, struggling, danced in a sweltering studio while I sat on the floor, making calls to find her work.

We had shared a bottle of water and an ice cream.

At the end, she had shyly said, "Clark, you're so great. Let's be together. I'll make sure to win all the awards for you and prove you're the best manager. We'll announce it then."

But as her career soared, she became increasingly entangled in complexities, and the rifts between us grew wider.

I finally realized that I could no longer keep up with her.

The buzz from the trending topic only grew louder, with more and more rumors spreading.

Logan was running around like a headless chicken, missing Clark's steady presence by his side.

Back then, with Clark around, they could weather any storm or online backlash together.

Several businesses had already issued their final ultimatums—either she cleared things up immediately or faced a breach of contract lawsuit.

Kate, with her makeup stripped away and her hair tied back into a simple ponytail, looked exhausted.

The stress was clearly taking a toll on her.

When the phone rang, she answered swiftly.

"Director Dent, it's a misunderstanding. Please, give me another chance. I'm begging you... Alright, thank you."

With a heavy heart, Kate hung up. Leo Dent had turned her down for the film.

She was so close—just one step away from a grand slam—and she couldn't accept the setback.

Kate glanced back at the photo, where the man's face was too blurred to identify, but oddly enough, it resembled Clark a little.

A bizarre thought suddenly took shape in her mind.