“Sir Russell went out for a run,” Mrs. Dunst said, handing me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“He’s not going to the office today?”

“No, ma’am, he said he’s giving himself a day off.”

“What?!” I was so shocked that my pancake slipped from my hand onto the table.

Mrs. Dunst quickly came over to clean up. “It’s okay, ma’am. I’ll make you another one.”

Internally, I was screaming. I was crying!

Russell skipping work… Did that mean he planned to stay home with me all day? His day off was my bad luck!

Mrs. Dunst had no idea how much I was suffering and even made it worse. “Sir Russell really cares about you, ma’am. He asked me what you’ve been up to here lately, and I told him you’ve been watching romance films. He even asked which one, and when I said it was the one starring Miss Bernadette, he was really happy and said he’d watch it with you.”

Oh, god, I could just die!

I was watching those films because the Best Actress was in them—I had to constantly study her acting, not because the films themselves were good!

And who asked him to join me? He should go make money instead!

I knew exactly why he was so pleased. He was happy that I was fully immersing myself in the craft, training myself to be just like Bernadette. He must feel so accomplished, turning me into the perfect obedient actress.

Just then, Russell walked in. “You’re up?”

I swallowed my frustration. “Yeah.”

“I’m cooking tonight. Sherman and the others are coming over.”

My right eyelid twitched.

Sherman—Russell’s business partner and childhood friend. A clueless rich second-gen who basically just follows Russell’s lead in everything. If Russell says east, Sherman wouldn’t dare go west. Not that it matters, since Russell’s investments always pay off.

“Oh? That’s sudden.”

“Yeah, he said it’s been a while. He’s bringing his new girlfriend too.”

I smiled faintly. Another one. Rich boys either play with cars or women—at least those two are manageable. It’s when they get into worse things that it becomes a real problem.

I glanced at Russell wiping sweat off his face with a towel. He’s in his 30s, but his body is way better maintained than most men his age—broad chest, abs, the whole package. How many women must be throwing themselves at him? If he had a normal relationship, his kid could probably be running around by now.

But he has no idea what’s coming tonight.

I remembered the way Sherman looked at me at the last gathering. No doubt about it—men are men; they want food and sex. And Sherman? He was definitely thinking something he shouldn’t. He never made a move, though—partly because I never gave him the signal, and partly because he’s still a little afraid of Russell.

Tonight would be my chance. If I played my role right and appeared exactly how Sherman liked, he could be another stepping stone in my escape plan.

Yeah, I had to make this happen.

And I couldn’t let Russell suspect a thing. I can't let him know about my escape plan at all!

“What are you thinking about?”

I snapped out of it. “Oh, nothing. You’re cooking, so what should I do?”

“Eat. What else?”

“Isn’t that a bad idea? I need to lose weight.”

Mrs. Dunst handed me another steaming cabbage, bacon, and cheese pancake. I was already sick of this kind of breakfast, but I forced myself to take a bite.

“It’s fine. If I say you can eat, then eat.”

That was always how it was with Russell. His word was law. My will had to revolve around his.

“See, ma’am?” Mrs. Dunst beamed. “Sir Russell is so thoughtful. He knows how hard your diet is.”

I gave her a pitiful look. Was this diet my choice? No, it was her boss who forced it on me. He made sure my weight never exceeded the Best Actress’s by more than a pound.

Russell chuckled. “Tonight, you can eat back everything you lost this month.”

I stared at Russell in disbelief. “You’re setting me up again! In a few days, you’ll definitely question me—why can the Oscar-winning actress be so disciplined, but I can’t resist temptation?”

I put down my egg pancake and cautiously walked over to him. “Are you serious or just messing with me?”

Russell replied, “I can’t exactly mistreat you in front of Sherman, an outsider, now, can I?”

Of course. The cunning old fox always has to keep up his gentlemanly image in front of others. So he does know he's mistreating me, huh?

I turned to leave, but suddenly, Russell wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Too skinny. Doesn’t feel good to hold.”

Mrs. Dunst, seeing this, awkwardly turned away. “Um… sir, ma’am, the romance film is ready. Would you like to watch it now in the basement theater?”

Russell answered casually, “Sure.”

Then he leaned in and whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Time to level up your acting skills.”

I pulled his hands away uncomfortably. “Do I get a bonus for a good performance?”

Russell gave me a knowing look. “I remember she once played a Republican-era spy, seducing enemies in a dimly lit theater.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not expecting me to seduce you, are you?”

“Hmm. Try it. If you succeed, there’s a reward.”

He must have watched that actress’s films over and over to be able to quote her lines even before she said them.

In the dark glow of the projector, I sneaked a glance at his expression. For the past two years, he had always looked at her this way—with deep admiration.

Whether in films or trending topics on his phone, as long as it was about her, his eyes never strayed.

“How long do I have to wait for you to start?”

His tone was laced with impatience. “I told you, act like her. The film has a 20-minute stretch without her—use that time to give me your performance.”

I had my pride. “Can I not? I’m not feeling well today.”

Since breakfast, my lower belly has been aching faintly. It must be… that time of the month.

“Not feeling well? Where?” His voice was cold, completely devoid of concern.

“I… um… my period.”

Russell let out a mocking laugh. “In the dead of winter, when it was minus five degrees, she still managed to film underwater scenes during her period. And you? I ask you to act a simple indoor scene, and you refuse because of cramps? Merylle, you’re making money way too easily. You’re not even worth a fraction of her.”

With that, he yanked me up angrily and grabbed my throat, roaring, “Act! Right now! And don’t stop until I’m satisfied!”

The grip on my throat tightened. Panic and suffocation consumed my mind. For a moment, I had no idea how to act.

He loosened his grip slightly and shouted, “Speak!”

My icy fingers gripped his wrist tightly. Then, forcing down the nausea rising in me, I delivered my line—seductive, just like she would.

“Sir, are you always this ruthless to women?”

I was mimicking her dialogue, adding a teasing lilt to my tone.

“Yeah. So what?”

“If you’re going to get rough, I’d rather it be in the bedroom.”

“Oh?” Russell released me. I staggered back, coughing violently.

His turn to get into character.

“Or,” I smirked, yanking at his collar, “we could do it right here.”

“What do you want? I’ll follow your lead.” Russell smiled, spreading his arms as if waiting for my embrace.

I leaned in, close enough that our lips almost touched, but I didn’t kiss him. Instead, I murmured in the most sultry tone I could muster.

“I want to be yours.”

Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes grew even more dazed with emotion as he wrapped me tightly in his arms. “Yes, this emotion… You really are just like her.”

Maybe from this angle, with this level of acting, I was a 99% match to his first love.

I chanted silently in my head, ‘In your next life, Russell, you and that woman better go straight to hell!’

Once again, Russell kissed me uncontrollably. In between breaths, he even took a moment to praise my coach. “He taught you well. You’ve improved.”

Well, of course. You spent a fortune on it. You made sure the coach drilled into me exactly how to kiss a man like your first love did.

I had zero intention of responding to his kiss, but then he started giving me instructions again. “Move. Bite me.”

Then, he cried, “Ah!”

“You told me to,” I said.

“Yeah, just like that! She was just as ruthless.” The expression on his face was one of pure satisfaction.

Just as he was getting lost in the romance of his ‘first love,’ the housekeeper outside the door interrupted at the worst possible moment. “Sir, would you like some dessert?” she asked tentatively.

Russell barely pulled away from my lips. “No need.”

Then, looking straight at me, he smirked. “You’re my dessert. Kiss me. Keep going.”

Something was off with him today. Normally, the moment things got even a little physical, he’d stop before it went too far. Even if he was at his limit, he’d step away and take a cold shower.

And it’s not like he can’t tell me apart from her—he always knows exactly when to draw the line.

But today, he didn’t seem like he wanted to stop. His palm pressed against my belly, and oddly enough, it felt warm.

In a low voice, he murmured, “Your period started?”

Usually, on the first day of my period, I’d be in pain for half a day before any blood actually showed. Russell knew my cycle too well—there was no fooling him.

“Just starting to hurt,” I said.

“Good. Then we can continue.”

“Continue what?”

Before I could protest, he silenced me again. Another suffocating nightmare.

Lost in the moment, Russell whispered a line from a film Bernadette once starred in. “That night, I will never forget… Your body heat, the feel of your skin, the way you looked at me…”

His grip on me tightened, arms pulling me closer and harder.

For a second, I thought he might’ve finally changed—maybe he was actually interested in someone other than his precious Best Actress.

Honestly, if he hadn’t reacted so strongly to me a few times before, I would’ve started wondering if he was into men. Because aside from Bernadette, I’d never seen him show the slightest interest in any woman.

For all I know, that Best Actress was just a convenient cover.

Over the years, plenty of socialites and actresses had thrown themselves at him, but he always turned his nose up at them.

Socialites? He thought they weren’t good-looking enough—too much plastic surgery on their faces.

Actresses? He found them fake, all sweet and delicate online but a whole different person in private.

Like… seriously? What kind of double standard is that? The Best Actress also played a hundred different roles—why wasn’t she “fake”?

And looks? There’s no end to that game. There will always be younger, prettier girls appearing. At the end of the day, it’s about what’s inside.

Those so-called “plain” socialites might not have a face like the Best Actress, but they have money, background, and education.

‘Russell, you want a woman who’s both stunning and smart? You think you can have it all?’

Breathing heavily, he finally let go of me. It was like he was avoiding my gaze.

His voice was tight. “Your health comes first. Forget it.”

For the first time, he was the one who had me blushing and my heart racing.

But the moment I heard those words, my mood plummeted.

‘Dude. You built the mood up this far? When I said no, you wouldn’t stop. But now that I’m actually willing, you just… back off?

‘Are you even a man?’