Clyde let out a cold scoff, then reached over and tapped the tip of Victoria's nose.

A single laugh, dripping with the kind of contempt that made your skin crawl.

"Our Victoria, always so kindhearted."

"Deidre Morton? She's nobody. Some random model from some backwater town who spent three years scratching around Sterling City's elite circle without a single thing to show for it."

"If I hadn't picked her, she'd still be in some back-alley booth pouring drinks and kissing up to people, trying to claw her way into the industry. I gave her resources. I gave her the title and the spotlight of being my girlfriend. She should be on her knees thanking me."

I stumbled back two steps, heart pounding, and a thorn sank into my finger—and just like that I was back in that dim basement three days ago, the drug already dragging me under.

I had bitten down on my lip until it split, even ripped off a fingernail, telling myself that if those animals came through the door, I'd take them down with me.

Then Clyde had burst through the door like a hero out of a story, larger than life, the man who would save me from anything.

His bodyguards pinned the kidnappers to the ground.

He slipped off his jacket and settled it over my shoulders, and when I swayed into him, barely conscious, he quietly sent everyone out and had the door closed behind them.

He held me. His voice was raw. "Deidre, I'll take responsibility for you. The moment we're out of here, I'm marrying you."

Back then, I had secretly thanked fate.

I'd even convinced myself that everything—the kidnapping, the drugs—was destiny forcing me into Clyde Gilbert's arms, and that made it all worth it.

Now I knew how ridiculous that sounded.

A few seconds of silence in the garden. Then Victoria rose on her toes and pressed her lips to Clyde's.

"But I'm really scared. I'm scared you'll play the part so long it stops being an act."

She pouted, eyes rimmed red, the picture of fragile helplessness—the kind designed to make a man fold.

"Deidre really is pretty. Great figure, too. I keep seeing people online saying she's more beautiful than me."

Clyde laughed and pinched her cheek, his voice dropping into the indulgent tone you'd use to coax a child.

"Victoria, no one even comes close to you. Once I deal with my parents, I'm marrying you. Immediately."

"In this lifetime, I will never marry anyone but you."

"Then swear it." She wouldn't let it go.

He smiled, that same doting warmth.

"I swear: if I, Clyde Gilbert, ever marry Deidre Morton in this life, let heaven strike me dead."

Victoria was finally satisfied. She kissed his face, once, twice, three times.

A short while later, Clyde pulled out his phone and made a call.

"Hey, Director Lambert. It's me."

"Looked over the promo plan for Victoria's drama. Next three rounds of talking points are fine. But for Deidre—push another wave onto the trending list. Tomorrow morning."

"Already got the headline: 'Deidre Morton's Escort Scandal.' Yeah, those photos we took at the club. Pick the worst angles. The more damning she looks, the better."

He paused. Then laughed.

"She won't suspect a thing. Don't worry about it."

The voice on the other end said something.

Clyde laughed again, clearly in high spirits, then added one more thing.

"Oh—the kidnapping. That all cleaned up?"

"Keep those guys' mouths shut tight. Nobody finds out I arranged it. Not that a fool like Deidre could ever dig that deep, but better safe than sorry."

Everything went still.

The kidnapping. He arranged that too.

Part of me had already suspected it was Clyde's handiwork, but hearing him say it himself—casually, like he was checking off a list—something in my chest caved in, and I couldn't breathe.

They kept me in that pitch-black basement for three days and three nights. Pumped me full of some brutal aphrodisiac, left me screaming into nothing, and nobody came.

I'd told myself it was random—some enemy who grabbed the wrong person, a case of mistaken identity.

But Clyde Gilbert had been pulling the strings from the very beginning.

To him, I was just the ugly backdrop that made his idealized first love look even more radiant. A foil.

A tool.

A piece of trash to be used up and thrown away.

I spun around to run,

but my knee buckled and I stumbled back a step without meaning to.

A dry branch snapped under my foot.

Both of them turned at the same time.

Victoria's face went bone-white. She shrank behind Clyde on instinct. "What do we do? She heard everything we just said..."

Clyde's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto me. "Deidre. Come out."

I straightened my spine and stepped out from behind the hedgerow.

Three people facing off under the moonlight. The air between us was eerily still.

"You heard all of that?"

A slight crease between his brows. His voice perfectly calm.

I looked at him and laughed.

It must have been an ugly laugh—I could feel the tears forcing their way up, burning behind my eyes—but I choked them back with everything I had.

"Every word."

Victoria glanced at my face, then at Clyde, biting her lip.

"Clyde... she's the one you're with. I'm the one who shouldn't be here. Maybe you should just let me go."

Clyde actually smiled. "You're everything I've ever wanted, Victoria. Why would I give you up for anyone else?"

"And? She heard. What's she going to do about it?"

He walked up to me and tilted my chin up with his fingers, looking down at me like I was something amusing.

"Right, Deidre?"

I slapped his hand away, forced my expression flat, and took one long breath.

"The kidnapping. That was you?"

"Yes."

"The drugs. Also you?"

"Yes."

"The videos, the trending list, the trolls ripping me apart—all you?"

He blinked, then let out a short, contemptuous laugh.

"All me."

Every answer came that easy, that bare—like hiding it from me had never even crossed his mind. A knife shoved straight into my chest. He didn't even care enough to lie anymore.

I lifted my face. My eyes were shot through with red. "But why me?"

"Why did it have to be me?"

The day Clyde proposed, I'd already decided to give up the career I'd spent over a decade clawing my way through.

And now, just like that, he'd knocked me right back to where I started—back to nothing.

Ground every last illusion and scrap of happiness I had into dust.

"Deidre, you do what you're told. No connections, no family to back you up. You'd scrape and fight just for a walk-on role. Honestly—you were the perfect pick."

He glanced down at Victoria as he said it,

the tenderness in his eyes completely unconcealed.

"Besides, my mother's never liked Victoria. But put someone worse in front of her, and suddenly Victoria doesn't seem so unacceptable. You understand?"

I couldn't tell anymore whether it was rage or humiliation. My chest was so tight I could barely breathe.

"Clyde, isn't this too cruel to Deidre? She didn't know a thing. Using her like this... I feel terrible about it..."

Victoria's voice floated out, soft and fragile as a kitten's.

Clyde pulled her against his shoulder, his tone dripping with indulgence.

"Don't worry. I'll handle her."

He turned to look at me.

"Deidre, since you've heard everything, I won't beat around the bush."

"I need you to play along until the curtain falls."

Acting—for professionals like us, it was as routine as breathing. But coming from the mouth of the man I loved, it was nothing short of laughable.

"Oh? And how would you like me to play it? What's the rate?"

Clyde ignored the mockery in my voice entirely. His expression was dead serious.

"I need you to keep being my fiancée. Keep up the public displays of affection. Keep being Victoria's foil. It won't be long. Two months, tops."

"Once her new drama wraps and my parents have fully accepted her, I can drop you without it getting ugly."

I could barely believe what I was hearing.

"How shameless can you possibly be? You actually think I'd agree to this?"

"You will."

Clyde pulled a check from his pocket and held it out to me.

"That's two million. When it's done, I'll give you another three. Five million buys me two months of your cooperation."

"You should think about that. At the rate you make doing bit parts, you wouldn't see that kind of money in ten years."

I looked at the check, and something inside me just hollowed out.

So that was it. My dignity, my feelings, who I was as a person—he'd priced it all at five million.

"What if I say no?"

My face was bloodless as I looked at him. "You planned that kidnapping, Clyde. I can go to the police. I can put you behind bars."

He looked at me like I'd told a joke. Nothing but contempt in his eyes.

"Then go ahead."

"Look at what you've actually got. You're the one who filed that report. The police already ruled it a random crime—nothing to do with anybody. And those videos, those photos? Every single one is real. No edits, no fakes. You've got nothing on me."

He studied me for a moment, then pressed his lips together.

"And you should know, with the kind of reach the Gilbert family has in Sterling City's elite circle, the second you say no, your parents back home get evidence that their daughter's been kept as some rich man's mistress. Your brother's school gets a tip that his sister is the industry's public entertainment. And your mother's little shop? It won't stay open."

Everything in me went cold. My head snapped up, and I locked every muscle to keep the trembling from showing.

"How do you know about my parents?"

Clyde shook his head with a small laugh.

"Deidre, you think I didn't run a background check before I picked you?"

"Where you're from, how many people in your family, what your parents do for a living, which school your brother attends, how much debt you owe. I know all of it."

My fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms, and the pain was the only thing keeping me conscious.

"So you're threatening me."

"Not a threat. A partnership."

Clyde corrected me. "You cooperate, I pay you, and your family stays safe."

"You don't cooperate, that's fine too. I'll just find someone else to be the foil. But Deidre, think carefully. If I replace you, those videos and photos aren't coming down."

"They'll stay up forever. People will keep digging into you, keep tearing you apart. Sooner or later your parents will see them. Your brother's classmates will see them. Is that what you want?"

My fists were clenched so hard my knuckles ached. In that moment, I wanted to kill him.

But I couldn't.

I stood there in the moonlight, my face white as paper.

Victoria lifted her gaze and gave me one slow, provocative look—then, just as fast, softened into that sweet, concerned mask.