I was the top agent in the entertainment industry.

On the day of the gala event, Evan's newly signed model, Jayne Jones, wore my limited edition jacket and demanded my dismissal, claiming that the style was outdated.

I assumed she didn't know who I was and asked her, "What makes you think you can?"

She hooked her arm around Evan's and lit a cigarette in the non-smoking banquet hall, saying, "Just because this company belongs to my boyfriend, Evan."

I nodded and called the richest man in Arland. The call was answered instantly.

"Mr. Wilson, I've been fired. I can't take on your ten-billion-dollar movie project," I said calmly.

...

I was the top agent in the entertainment industry and one of the founders of Fidelia Entertainment.

The top-floor banquet hall of Fidelia Entertainment was dazzling, celebrating the huge success of the drama series that the company recently invested in.

As soon as I stepped into the gala event, I sensed something was off.

The people's evasive glances and hushed whispers felt like needles piercing through me.

I straightened my tailored suit jacket and walked calmly toward the head table.

My gaze fixed on the abrupt figure beside the main seat—Jayne.

She was the newcomer model Evan had recently signed, against much opposition.

At this moment, she was wrapped in a familiar designer jacket, one I had brought back from Palis last month and hadn't worn yet.

It didn't fit her well, yet she raised her chin like a queen surveying her court.

"Miss Campbell, you're finally here." Jayne's voice was soft but loud enough for several nearby tables to hear. "We were just discussing the company's image. Some outdated trends need a refresh, so they don't become an eyesore."

She waved the champagne glass, her eyes scanning me, "So they don't hold the company back or Evan."

As she spoke, she nestled closer to Evan, who was chatting with a producer and did not stop her from getting close to him.

I didn't pause, walking straight up to her, my gaze sweeping over the jacket she wore. "What makes you think you can wear my clothes and dictate whether I stay or go?"

Jayne's face stiffened, then she skillfully retrieved a cigarette case from Evan's suit pocket, pulling out a slim cigarette and placing it between her lips.

She lit the cigarette, the blue flame leaping, illuminating the defiance in her eyes.

She casually took a drag and exhaled a puff of smoke, tightening her grip on Evan's arm. "The company's my boyfriend's now. Is that reason enough, Miss Campbell?"

The room fell silent instantly.

"Boyfriend?" This word hurt me.

A wave of dizziness hit me, followed by a chilling cold that froze me from my feet to my heart.

But I didn't move.

I forced myself to keep calm.

I looked at her smug expression and sneered. "Jayne, when I registered the company and secured the first investment, you were still trying to catch the camera at some cheap show. Who do you think you are to talk qualifications in front of me?"

"Are you the founder?" Jayne scoffed, flicking ash from her cigarette carelessly, "We all know how you got the title of "founder"—by selling your body. Do you really think you're so capable?"

Her words instantly ignited the room.

Countless eyes scrutinized me.

Jayne thought she had found my weak spot. I had been in a secret relationship with Evan for four years.

To outsiders, I was just his agent, with no standing to limit Evan's choice of romantic partners.

"I'm the model Evan personally selected, and his girlfriend. Don't forget the profits I've recently brought to the company. You do nothing and just get dividends, what makes you think you can compare to me?" Jayne raised her voice.

Several people eager to show loyalty immediately echoed. "Jayne is right! Resources are limited. If veterans don't retire, how will newcomers have a chance? The company relies on Evan and Jayne now. Some useless people should be fired."

Listening to the clamor, I suppressed the rage boiling inside me.

I looked at Jayne coldly. "Jayne, you should know when to stop. If you keep talking, you'll regret it."

Evan finally turned around at this point.

He patted Jayne's hand and then looked at me.

When my gaze met his, my heart was broken.

Evan, whom I had spent seven years elevating from an unknown actor to a superstar.

I once thought I would spend my life with him, but now he was letting another woman hold his arm and publicly humiliating me.

His eyes that once looked at me with tenderness now held only distance.

"Honey," he began, using the address reserved for intimacy, yet his tone was cold. "Jayne is young and naive. She didn't mean any harm. You shouldn't lower yourself to her level."

He stepped forward, lowering his voice. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you. You've worked too hard over the years. Why push yourself so much? Wouldn't it be better to just enjoy life as my wife and let things take their course?"

His gaze swept over the room as his voice rose sharply. "The success of this company today is the result of my relentless efforts. To ensure it thrives in the future, the shares and control need to be reassessed. Mallory, I will ensure you're well-compensated for a worry-free future."

Every word he said broke my heart.

I looked at him and laughed scornfully.

I was blinded by love and wasted seven years of my life.

"Reorganize my shareholding? Evan, do you even hear what you're saying?" I demanded furiously.

I stepped forward abruptly, glaring at him, my voice ringing throughout the banquet hall. "What would you be without me? Back then, you were like a homeless ​​person begging me to take you in. You couldn't even speak properly in front of investors, and I had to teach you again and again. The first time you went on stage to accept an award, your hands were shaking with nervousness. It was I in the audience, encouraging you, that prevented you from embarrassing yourself.

When you couldn't secure investments, I was the one drinking myself sick to secure contracts! When your scandal erupted, I was the one begging the media for three days to withdraw stories. When your mother needed urgent surgery, I knelt before the director for a specialist.

Even the company's name, "Fidelia," is derived from my mother's name. You're now saying this is the company you built through your own hard work?"

Each of my questions made Evan's face turn even paler.

The room was silent, with only my voice reverberating.

Jayne tried to stand up and argue, but I suddenly turned around and, without warning, slapped her across the face.

The sharp slap echoed through the banquet hall.

Jayne staggered back from the blow, crashing against the table edge, the cigarette flying from her hand, scorching a hole in the expensive Persian carpet.

Jayne covered her face, where red finger marks quickly appeared, her eyes filled with fear.

The audience gasped in disbelief.

"This slap is to remind you of your place." I glared down at her, my voice icy.

"You're wearing my clothes and seducing my man?" I grabbed the collar of her jacket, tearing it forcefully.

The expensive fabric made a tearing sound.

Jayne shrieked, frantically covering her chest, utterly humiliated.

"Even if I throw away or destroy my things, you bitch have no right to us them." I flung the torn jacket back at her face.

"Mallory! Are you crazy?" Evan finally roared in anger, stepping forward to seize my wrist.

I shook him off, turning to face him, my eyes blazing with fury. "Am I crazy? Evan, I must be fucking crazy to believe your lies for seven years and give you everything I have!"

I raised my hand and, with all my might, slapped him hard across the face for the first time. "This slap is for the foolish version of me seven years ago."

Then I slapped him a second time. "This slap is for me, the one you used as a stepping stone, then discarded."

The third slap carried my last vestige of strength, hitting him so hard he turned his head. "This slap is for your mother. If she knew how ungrateful you turned out to be, it would break her heart!"

Evan staggered backward, his face swelling, blood seeping at the corner of his mouth.

He stared at me in disbelief, as if seeing me anew.

The hall remained silent, everyone stunned by my outburst.

Breathing heavily, my chest heaved as I faced Evan, whom I had loved for seven years, who had now completely changed. I finally couldn't hold back my tears.

But it wasn't sadness that drove them. It was hate. I hated him.

I hated even more the version of myself that gave everything without reservation.

I wiped away my tears fiercely. My gaze swept over Jayne's pale face and Evan's ashen complexion.

"A celebration banquet? What a fitting day." Moving towards the main table, I picked up a glass of champagne, downed it in a single gulp, then shattered the empty glass to the floor.

The sound of the crystal shattering was piercingly clear. "This toast is for my wasted seven years!"

I picked up another glass and shattered it. "This glass is a toast to the genuine feelings I showed for Evan, a scumbag."

I picked up the third glass, looked at Evan, and my eyes were icy. "Evan, Jayne, see you in court. What you stole from me, I will make you return it to me on your knees, with interest!"

The next day.

In the largest conference room at Fidelia Entertainment, the atmosphere was tense.

On either side of the long table sat the company's executives, key investors, and its top celebrities.

All eyes were on me.

When Evan walked in with Jayne in his arms, the three swollen red marks on his face hadn't faded completely, like unmistakable marks of humiliation.

He saw me seated next to the head seat, his gaze momentarily freezing before a look of annoyance settled in.

"Mallory, do you have to make this a big deal out of this? Are you trying to embarrass me in front of so many people?" He walked up to me, his voice low but warning.

Jayne leaned against him, her face feigning concern, but her eyes were full of provocation. "Evan, don't be angry. Mallory probably just wants one last moment in the spotlight, since she won't have the chance anymore."

I just ignored them.

Evan pulled out a chair and sat down, attempting to maintain a semblance of dignity. "Can't we discuss this privately? I won't shortchange you on your dividends. You can settle down and be my wife. You don't need to work anymore. What's wrong with that?"

"I don't have to work?" I finally looked at him and sneered. "You want me to be a housewife and watch you bring different women home every day? Evan, you're disgusting."

His face darkened instantly. "Mallory," he leaned forward and said angrily, "Think carefully. Once you leave here today, you'll have nothing to do with Fidelia Entertainment. You can leave, but you'll leave with nothing—don't even think about taking a single cent of company shares."

Looking at his familiar yet strange face, I felt absurd.

"Leave with nothing?" I repeated softly, the words echoing clearly in the silent conference room. "Evan, have you forgotten? This company is half mine. When you begged me to attract investment, why didn't you think about taking over the company for yourself? And now that you've gained power, you think you can just kick me out?"

"Exactly!" Jayne suddenly interjected, her voice sharp. "The company relies on Evan now! You're just a washed-up manager. What are you putting on airs for? Hurry up and sign the document, don't waste everyone's time."

Evan didn't stop her. Instead, he tossed a document from his briefcase, sliding it in front of me.

It was the "Share Transfer and Termination Agreement."

The conditions were outrageously harsh.

"Sign it," he leaned back in his chair, eyes cold. "Once you sign, we're done."

The conference room fell into silence. Everyone held their breath, their gaze darting between Evan and me.

I picked up the pen he had pushed over, my fingertips cold.

All my efforts, time, and trust had culminated in this humiliating document.

"Alright. As you wish." My voice was eerily calm.

The pen tip scratched across the paper, making a soft rasping sound. I signed my name.

When I finished the last stroke, I completely gave up on him.

Evan visibly relaxed, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, and," he added as if he suddenly remembered, in a tone as dismissive as instructing a servant, "Don't forget to move your things out of my villa. Jayne doesn't like traces left by other women."

My grip on the pen tightened, knuckles whitening slightly.

Well, we had been together for seven years, and he was in such a hurry to kick me out.

He wouldn't even show me the slightest bit of leniency.

I put down the pen, looked up to meet his triumphant gaze, and suddenly sneered.

"Evan, I hope you won't regret this," I said softly.

He frowned, seemingly wanting to say something. But I didn't give him the chance.

Under everyone's gaze, some surprised, some sympathetic, and some eager for drama, I took out my phone from my handbag, publicly dialed a number, and put it on speaker.

It rang only once before it was quickly answered.

A deep and unmistakable male voice reverberated through the silent conference room via the phone speaker. "Mallory? You rarely call me first."

The moment that voice rang out, the expressions on the faces of half the people in the conference room changed drastically.

Several seasoned investors sat up abruptly, their eyes widening.

A few executives exchanged shocked glances.

Even Evan's smile froze, pupils constricting sharply.

The voice continued, carrying a rare gentleness and a hint of a smile. "Is it about the Oscar-bidding, multi-million-dollar film project we've prepared for? Are you finally ready to start?"

A multi-million-dollar project aiming for an Oscar?

Each word hit everyone's heart.

Facing Evan's suddenly pale face and Jayne's bewildered yet subtly uneasy gaze, I spoke into the phone in a clear and calm tone. "Mr. Wilson, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

I paused, my gaze slowly sweeping over Evan's trembling fingers, and spoke each word with decisive clarity. "I was just fired from my company. So, the multi-million-dollar top film project on your end..."

I sneered, uttering the final few words. "I can't take it on."

As soon as I finished speaking, the conference room fell into a suffocating silence that lasted for ten seconds.

On the other end of the line, Dominick chuckled softly, his voice steady as ever, "It's unfortunate, but if you need assistance, just tell me. I'm always here for you."

I hung up the phone, put it away, and calmly scanned the faces in the conference room, each marked by shock.

Finally, my gaze settled on Evan.

His expression froze. He was clearly still in shock.

Then, some brutal realization pierced through his mind. The top domestic resource, Dominick, whom he desperately wanted to get in touch with but couldn't even get close to, spoke to me in a familiar tone, as if greeting an old friend, even with a rare hint of accommodation.

"You... you know Dominick?"

Evan's voice was hoarse, "When did you..."

"Do I need to report to you when I get to know Dominick?" I interrupted him, my tone flat, "Just like you didn't tell me when you started hooking up with Jayne."

These words were like a slap in the face to him.

Soon, the fury of being fooled, belittled, and especially publicly humiliated shattered the dignity he had been trying to maintain.

"Mallory! You betrayed me?" He suddenly overturned the coffee cup in front of him, the liquid spilling onto the pristine table, staining the freshly signed termination agreement.

His eyes were blazing with rage, veins bulging at his temples. He pointed at me and said in a furious tone. "You've been planning this all along, haven't you? You think getting close to Dominick makes you special? Without me, you're nothing! Who in the entertainment industry would recognize you? You'll regret this! You will definitely come back to me on your knees and beg for my forgiveness!"

The shareholders and executives were silent, their eyes complicated as they watched Evan's loss of composure, sneaking glances at my consistently calm stance.

Jayne tried to grab his arm, only to be harshly shaken off.

I watched his disgraceful action, feeling the last ripple in my heart settle.

So his heart was truly despicable.

I couldn't even be bothered to argue with him any longer.

I simply turned and walked towards the door.

As my hand grasped the doorknob, I paused.

I didn't look back. My voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly throughout the silent conference room. "Well, I forgot to tell you all. This office building is under my personal ownership."

Several gasps of disbelief echoed behind me.

I slightly turned my face, capturing Evan's suddenly rigid silhouette and Jayne's instantly pale face with the corner of my eye.

"You have three days. Take your belongings..." I paused, delivering the final words. Get out. If you don't move out by the deadline..."

I opened the door, the light flooding in, outlining my upright posture.

"I'll have security clear you out like trash." I turned my head away, my eyes icy. With that, I left without looking back.

...

The news of my contract termination caused a stir. Although it was not officially announced, undercurrents were already surging within the industry.

Evan's reaction was swift.

Perhaps he was provoked into irrationality by me, or maybe he was truly blinded by Jayne.

Less than a week after my contract termination, he announced his relationship with Jayne on social media.

He posted a close-up photo of their fingers intertwined under the sunset, with a caption both sentimental and pretentious. "Meeting you was the best thing," he even tagged Jayne.

A top-tier male star announcing a romance was akin to dropping a nuclear bomb in fandom. Twitter servers crashed for half an hour.

His fans instantly reacted in several different extremes.

A few offered blessings, but many more dramatically noped out of fandom and criticized him.

And there were also malicious conspiracy theorists who quickly turned their attention to me.

"Why announce it now, right after breaking up with his agent? Was he pushed too hard by Mallory? Using the announcement as a form of retaliation?"

"I always thought Mallory's control over Evan was abnormal! She always controlled everything!"

"I heard the termination terms weren't agreed upon? Is it because Mallory wanted to continue leeching off Evan, and since he wouldn't allow it, she threatened to expose Evan's relationship? And then Evan himself announced his relationship first?"

"She's involved in workplace gaslighting and sexual harassment. Mallory, get out of the entertainment industry."

"We should support Evan! Mallory must apologize!"

Rumors, fueled by those with ulterior motives, spiraled out of control and eventually ignited during a backstage group interview at a brand event a few days later, led personally by Evan.

When a reporter sharply questioned, "Why didn't you renew your contract with your agent, Mallory, with whom you've worked for seven years?" all cameras were trained on him.

Evan, dressed in a bespoke haute couture suit, feigned a vulnerable yet restrained melancholy under the flashing lights.

He paused for a few seconds, seemingly suppressing his emotions, then raised his head to the camera, offering a bitter smile. "Mallory is someone special to me. I am eternally grateful for the seven years of companionship and dedication."

He paused, his voice slightly trembling, perfectly portraying a hint of suffering. "However, there are certain matters involving personal values and limits where I can no longer compromise or remain silent. The only problem between us is some irreconcilable differences in our work philosophies and methods. Please, do not speculate excessively or trouble Mallory."

He didn't say a bad word about me at all, and his words were even "sincere," but in the current public opinion environment, the target of his words was self-evident.

He was implying that I had been controlling and oppressing him for seven years, beyond our working relationship.

The interview video spread like wildfire.

Topics such as "Evan's agent bullies him in the workplace," "Evan has endured it for seven years," and "I feel sorry for Evan" quickly became trending topics.

My name became synonymous with sin.

My photos were edited into vile caricatures, and my personal information was dug up.

My phone was flooded with curses and insults from unknown numbers, even affecting my long-deceased mother.

"Mallory, you leech, why haven't you just died?"

"Bullying a celebrity at work, how can someone like you even be an agent?"

"Apologize! You must apologize publicly! Get out of the entertainment industry!"

Even the PR director of Fidelia Entertainment called me. "Miss Campbell. Your personal feud with Evan has severely impacted the company's reputation. Please state to clarify the false rumors as soon as possible, or the company will reserve the right to pursue legal action against you."

I stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the wave of hostility.

Watching Evan's perfect victim performance in the interview video, I was furious.

My phone buzzed again with a message from an unknown number. "Do you regret leaving so decisively that day? Netizens are all criticizing you. If you just beg me, I'll help you clear your name."

I could imagine Evan's smug expression as he typed those words, confident of his victory.

How did he become like this?

He once hugged me and twirled around in excitement for landing a minor role. How did he turn so despicable?

I didn't reply to him.

Instead, I calmly picked up another spare phone and called my lawyer. "Jaxen, you can start preparing the encrypted files I sent you. Also, contact the reporters and tell them the first batch of material will be sent in ten minutes."

Those encrypted files contained recordings from my habits as a top agent, including Evan's early hints for me to deal with overzealous female fans, his complaints about a certain actress being "unreasonable and unwilling to cooperate with promotional stunts,"

It also included screenshots of recent WhatsApp chat logs showing him flirting openly with Jayne and several other models and actresses, discussing how to use rumors to promote each other, and even involving resource exchanges.

Of course, even more crucially, these documents contained clues that could prove his tax problems and illegal operations.

On the computer screen, the "sent successfully" prompt quietly popped up.

I picked up the coffee that had long grown cold, taking a sip.

The bitterness spread across my tongue, sharpening my gaze.

"Evan, the game had only just begun." I thought.