Violeta Reynolds swore off messy, complicated relationships long ago. Even with all the messy feelings churning inside her, she kept her head in the game, focused on what was right in front of her.

A few feet away, Charlie Snyder suddenly leaned in. "Did you hear? Raiden’s here today. He brought some artist in to audition. You knew about this, right?"

Given how things stood between everyone, if Raiden Evans really showed up without Violeta having a heads up? Letting just anyone walk through that door could have major consequences. Raiden’s pull was not something to mess with.

Charlie waved off her worry quick. "Relax, I already talked to him."

Charlie huffed out a relieved breath. Not too far off, Lenora Kelly was throwing one of her over-the-top fits, and he couldn’t help but mutter, "God, she’s so much more dramatic than she needs to be."

Violeta never saw any comparison to Lenora as a compliment—if anything, it was just embarrassing. Lenora was shallow, clawing her way up the social ladder by sending late-night selfies to any guy who’d look her way.

But then again… from an outsider’s point of view, was Violeta really that different? She was relying on Raiden, after all. That thought must’ve crossed more than a few people’s minds.

Anyone who didn’t chase a career of their own got side-eye around here. The whole "stay-at-home wife" thing sounded utterly ridiculous to her. Foolish, even.

Jittery, especially with Lenora carrying on so close, Violeta made an excuse. "Charlie, I’m just gonna run to the restroom."

The words barely left her mouth when Raiden walked in, flanked by a whole group of people. His eyes locked with Violeta’s for just a split second. Lenora practically sprinted over to him, her eyes glinting like Christmas morning.

She hung all over his arm, gazing up at him like he hung the moon. Raiden always indulged her every little whim—even schmoozing directors to get her whatever she wanted.

A sharp-dressed, handsome man caught Violeta’s eye, and that familiar knot of unease twisted in her stomach again. She’d just found out minutes earlier this guy was a talent agent, here with an actor auditioning for the second male lead.

Lenora pouted a little, batting her eyelashes and turning on the charm for Raiden. "Raiden, can’t I have a say in who gets that second lead spot?"

Raiden arched an eyebrow, his gaze sliding over to Violeta—who still carried that soft, youthful glow everyone noticed.

"Why the sudden interest?"

"Isn’t it obvious? Don’t girls usually get whatever they want when they turn on the sweet talk? Or am I just bad at it? C’mon, that’s old-school, right? I should get a little say, shouldn’t I?"

He chuckled, and Charlie cut in fast. "Raiden."

Charlie wasn’t about to let anyone make a fool of Violeta right in front of him—not when he could keep this whole thing a playful back-and-forth with Raiden instead.

Violeta was right there in the room, after all.

Raiden gently brushed Lenora off his arm, his tone cooling a degree or two. "Lenora can handle picking the second lead."

Charlie wiped the sweat off his brow. "Raiden, there’s been a misunderstanding here—"

Before he could get the whole sentence out, Lenora cut him off.

"Raiden, I found the person who was sneaking photos of us earlier. They know Charlie, and I already gave ‘em a warning."

Raiden’s face darkened for a heartbeat.

Charlie’s brows pinched together. It clicked—this had to be the moment Violeta walked in on everything. He glanced back over at her, sitting quiet as a mouse in the corner of the room.

Violeta had stepped out earlier, and come back looking pale as a sheet. Yeah—she’d seen the whole thing go down.

How could Raiden not realize his own wife was the one who’d caught him red-handed?

"Charlie, what’s the problem here?" Raiden’s presence loomed over the room, and those words hit Charlie’s chest like a sledgehammer.

He knew keeping Violeta in her position here would be next to impossible without Raiden’s stamp of approval.

Charlie hesitated, glanced at Violeta’s unreadable calm face, and exhaled a heavy sigh.

"No problem. I’ll do whatever you say, Raiden."

Raiden gave a short, indifferent nod. "See if you can slot Violeta into a suitable role down the line," he added offhand.

Charlie shared a quick look with Lenora, but eventually just asked the question hanging in the air. "Do I take orders from Lenora, or from Violeta?"

Before he could even finish, Lenora was clinging tighter to Raiden’s arm, batting her lashes and whispering his name all breathy: "Raiden…"

Raiden smiled that indulgent smile of his, like Lenora’s little power grab wasn’t even a blip on his radar—didn’t even register as a threat to Violeta.

"We’ll go with whatever Lenora wants for now."

Charlie was left speechless, and snuck a quick glance over at Violeta.

But Violeta didn’t even bat an eye. She’d turned her full attention to Quincy Lawrence, walking him through what to expect at his audition in a soft, steady voice—like the whole drama by the door might as well have been happening on another planet.

The second lead auditions were about to start anyway.

Charlie trundled back to his seat and sighed.

"Tessa, with what’s going on with Raiden and Violeta’s marriage…"

"Charlie, let’s get the auditions started," Violeta cut in, her voice calm and steady as ever.

Charlie remembered how bright they’d both looked when they first got married. He’d been meaning to warn her—Raiden was running around with half a dozen women on the side, and playing by the old rules just left you open to getting stabbed in the back.

"Let’s get this going, then, yeah?"

Out of all the second lead candidates, Quincy Lawrence stood out head and shoulders above the rest. He fit the role like it was made for him. Even if a few people muttered that the part was already locked in for someone else, no one could deny how talented he was.

Violeta watched him go, genuine admiration softening her gaze, full appreciation for what he could do.

Charlie felt pleased, finally able to breathe easy as he got ready to sign off on the casting—then Lenora stepped right in front of him.

She tilted her chin up just so, her lipstick half gone, like she’d been making out with someone five minutes earlier.

"Charlie, I don’t want this guy for second lead. I get to pick."

She waved over another actor, who looked stunned by the sudden opening—over the moon that he might actually get his big break.

Everyone knew Lenora had connections.

If she picked you, you were basically guaranteed the part.

Violeta’s expression didn’t shift an inch. "Quincy’s performance was stellar. He’s perfect for this role."

Lenora crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow. "Performance? I didn’t feel a damn thing. And do you know who my boyfriend is? I can make a career or break it with a snap of my fingers. My guy has that kind of power."

Sweet-talking Raiden was one thing. Throwing that power around in front of everyone else? That was a whole other level.

Charlie finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and cut in. "Do you even know who you’re talking to?"

Violeta lowered her eyes. She knew fighting Lenora out of jealousy was a waste of time. Whoever won depended entirely on where Raiden stood—and he was clearly on Lenora’s side. Fighting for her pride wasn’t gonna get her anywhere.

She smiled, cool as a cucumber. "I don’t know who Lenora’s boyfriend is. But I do know a certain married man over there, right? Do you really think parading an affair around like this is smart, Lenora? Chill out. What you’re doing right now could ruin everything you’ve worked for. Laying low would be the smart move here."

Lenora’s face twisted for a second. She’d forgotten she was supposed to keep her relationship with Raiden under wraps.

"I warn you! If any of this leaks to the press, no other artist will work here! This industry doesn’t have room for mouthy people who can’t keep a secret!"

Violeta huffed a laugh. She could see Lenora’s insecurity clear as day. Lenora was rattled because none of her cheap tricks were phasing her.

She turned back to Charlie. "Charlie, I’m taking Quincy with me."

Lenora’s face twisted into something ugly. "Just wait! You’ll see! You’ll regret this!"

She screamed the words after Violeta, who was already halfway out the door, Lenora’s furious shouts bouncing off the walls behind her.

The tall man following right behind Violeta suddenly paused and turned back. His gaze was so intense, Lenora froze solid, couldn’t move an inch.

By the time she came back to her senses, her face was burning with embarrassment. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she ran off, dead set on complaining to Raiden and making that man pay for embarrassing her.

Violeta Reynolds could feel every hostile stare burning into her, but she chose to brush them off. The second she and Quincy Lawrence stepped outside, she paused and glanced back at him.

He looked totally unruffled, no trace of disappointment anywhere. It eased the tight knot in her chest just a little. Her cool composure cracked for half a second, but she pulled herself back together fast.

She pulled open the passenger door of the car for him, waving him in first. Quincy nodded politely. "Thanks."

Violeta hit the gas. "Radiant Entertainment just put money into two new TV series. One’s directed by Charlie Snyder, the other by Darius Berry. They’ve got pretty similar themes, but Darius still hasn’t filled the male lead spot or that tricky supporting role. The lead’s already locked down, but if you nail that supporting part? It’ll get you all kinds of attention. This show’s built to kickstart careers—they tailor the script to whatever the talent brings to the table."

"Quincy, I won’t let Raiden’s influence screw this chance up for you."

Lenora Kelly never backs down easy, and the higher-ups are already on edge. With Quincy’s raw talent, he deserves way better than getting pushed to the side.

Quincy stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the scenery blurring past the window. "I’m not scared," he said softly.

Violeta knew he was just trying to calm her down. In this cutthroat industry, who isn’t scared of getting overshadowed? With how much pull Raiden has right now, it wouldn’t take him anything to tear their whole plan apart.

The only way out? Get stronger, and fast.

The car pulled up outside a cozy little pub. Violeta stepped out, fished out her phone to call Darius Berry, and quickly smoothed her expression—like none of Lenora’s earlier jabs had gotten to her at all.

Darius showed up a few minutes later, looking caught off guard. "Didn’t Charlie already talk to him about this?"

"Charlie’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Darius, I brought an artist in to meet you."

That pleased Darius. After all, Violeta was married to the Evans heir, and she was going out of her way to extend this courtesy to him.

"Ms. Reynolds, this…"

"Call me Tessa. No need for formalities—let’s keep this strictly professional. If you can’t do that, I’ll just take this to my brother instead."

Violeta’s family company has always held investments in entertainment—good money, after all. If she hadn’t stepped in, Quincy would never have gotten a foot in the door here.

There are certain rules you don’t break. She couldn’t let Quincy wander off and spend time alone with a stranger she didn’t trust. Loyalty ran bone-deep in her.

Darius hesitated for a beat, then gestured toward the door. "Please, Tessa—let’s hash this out over a drink."

For all his polite front, Darius didn’t really like Violeta. When she first left the industry, she’d canceled several contracts with him out of the blue. If she wasn’t affiliated with Radiant now, and didn’t have her connections, he never would’ve bothered showing up.

She’d basically backed him into a corner, forcing him to give Quincy a shot.

Darius waved them ahead. "After you, Tessa. We can talk over coffee."

As Violeta walked in, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Quincy right on her heels.

His eyes were dark and tight, his jaw clenched so hard his lips were pressed into a thin line. It was obvious he hated this.

"Wait in the car."

"I…"

"I’m your manager and assistant. You stick to my lead. Just trust me on this."

His steps froze. He hung his head, and after a few long seconds, he finally mumbled, "Okay."

Once Violeta set her mind to a goal, she didn’t let tiny hurdles stop her.

Especially not this—this was all just the price she had to pay for walking away from her career for someone else once before.

"I won’t be long. Wait in the car."

Rules exist for a reason. Unlike half the lazy managers out there, Violeta never coddled her artists.

The entertainment industry is a volatile shitshow—one minute you’re on top of the world, the next you’re forgotten. All she wanted was for Quincy to build a career that lasted.

Inside the pub, Darius got an update on Charlie’s situation, and his contempt for Violeta only grew.

It wasn’t any surprise she didn’t want to stay home playing housewife—everyone and their mom knew her husband was cheating on her.

His gaze drifted over her, slow and lingering.

She was slender, with a tiny waist and long legs. Even barely wearing makeup, she took his breath away.

He’d been in this business for decades, seen thousands of pretty faces, but she still made his head turn.

A sly smile tugged at his lips as he casually ordered a round of whiskey for the table.

"Tessa, is your artist gunning for the lead or the supporting role?"

Violeta frowned. Everyone knew the whole point of this series was to launch the lead’s career—Darius of all people should’ve remembered that.

But she caught his meaning in two seconds flat.

Darius suddenly dropped his hand right on her knee. "A woman that looks like you? Why waste your life stuck with a cheating husband? As for your boy, the role doesn’t matter. I can make it work."

Violeta subtly shifted his hand off her, smiling cooly. "Darius, I don’t think you get it—Raiden already greenlit this. I’m the one calling the shots on who gets spotlighted here. He’d love nothing more than to take out the other man."

Darius flinched back. He knew Raiden’s reputation all too well, and he pulled his hand away, face hot with embarrassment.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat. A married woman playing innocent—what a game.

"Down three glasses of this whiskey, and the supporting role’s yours."

This was top-shelf strong stuff. Three glasses would knock her flat on her ass.

Violeta had known what she was walking into. She’d come prepared.

She fished a pill out of her purse, popped a hangover tablet, chased it with a glass of milk, then set the recording device—already running, capturing every word—right on the table beside her.

"Fair enough. Let’s just hope you keep your word, Darius."

Darius spotted the recorder instantly and realized what she’d done. Violeta was blackmailing him. If he didn’t hold up his end of the deal, this damaging evidence would end up right in Raiden’s inbox.

If he kept his promise, three glasses would leave her completely out of it, and they could wrap this up without any more trouble.

Darius exhaled a long breath. "Tessa, if it wasn’t for this whole mess, you’d have A-list talent lining up around the block begging for this spot."

Violeta smiled. "I was led astray once before. I’m sorry if any of our studio’s artists messed things up for you—this round’s on me."

Director Darius didn’t bother with small talk. He just knocked back one bottle after another, completely unfazed, until finally he set his glass down.

"Let’s cut to the chase. The supporting role’s yours," he said coolly, reaching for his briefcase. "I’ll send someone over to get the contract signed tomorrow."

With that, he shoved the door open, leaned against the wall to steady himself, and stumbled out. His stomach was churning, but he never once lost his composure.

Right outside the door, Violeta Reynolds ran straight into Lenora Kelly. Lenora didn’t even notice her. Her cheek was still faintly swollen under all that foundation as she gossiped to a friend:

"Raiden’s been spoiling me more and more lately. I was supposed to grab coffee with the director today, but Raiden stopped me—he even made that woman apologize to me in person."

"But you know how these directors and producers are, they’re always crossing lines. Sometimes they get grabby, and you can’t exactly push them away hard. Raiden actually cares about me, though… I keep wondering when he’ll finally leave her. It feels so close now."

"Yeah, seriously, it’s right around the corner. Last night when he marked me, he said his own wife won’t even let him go that far. I’ll never get why some women act all high and mighty when they can’t even keep their own man."

"Lenora, c’mon, you know Raiden’s wife has a powerful family. Be careful not to stir up too much trouble."

Lenora just rolled her eyes and brushed off the warning. She was dead set on making that stuck-up wife pay—already planning to set her up with some sleazy directors to humiliate her.

Standing right there listening, Violeta felt another wave of nausea roll over her. She shoved open the bathroom door fast and bolted for the sink to empty her stomach.

Her reflection in the mirror looked drained, her eyes ringed red. It was heartbreaking to see. She splashed cold water on her face, desperate to cool the burn, but the fire in her stomach wouldn’t fade. After three rounds of heaving, she finally felt a little better.

Violeta never had much of a tolerance for alcohol. Raised right since she was little to keep herself restrained, she never was one to overindulge. But with all that hard liquor she’d knocked back, the burn crawling from her throat down to her stomach was unbearable. Her clothes reeked of booze—there was no way she could go home like this.

As she lowered her lashes and pressed a hand to her churning stomach, she caught a familiar face in the mirror’s reflection. She pulled her hand away fast, splashed her face one more time with cold water, and turned to face him, her expression already steady.

"I got the supporting role," she said simply.

Quincy Lawrence stood by the door, a cap pulled low over his head. His hand had already lifted, almost reaching for her, before he stopped short. He always hated unnecessary physical contact.

He lowered his eyes, his voice rough and gravelly: "You didn’t have to go that far."

The bathroom’s fluorescent light was harsh, but it made Violeta look almost painfully striking, her eyes glistening faintly from the steam of the sink.

"Listen. I brought you here, Quincy. This is your big break. We both have the talent—together, we’re going to make it."

He swallowed hard. After a second of hesitation, he finally wrapped his hand around her arm to steady her.

Violeta had always kept a careful distance from men, never letting herself lean on any of them. But the alcohol had turned her brain to mush, and she stumbled as they walked out of the karaoke bar.

The karaoke bar was attached to a fancy high-end hotel. Adonis Howell’s car was parked right out front—he’d just finished wrapping up a meeting with a client.

He looked up and spotted a tall man helping a stumbling woman out of the bar. He recognized Violeta instantly. Everyone knew her.

He frowned at the sight and dialed Raiden Evans.

"Raiden, I just saw Violeta with another guy. They looked pretty damn close."

Back at his office, Raiden froze mid-type. "You must have misseen."

Adonis got it. The Reynolds family had such strict standards, Violeta would never act inappropriate with another man. In all the years of their marriage, even when she picked up clients from the airport, she kept a polite distance from every male staff member. He’d joked before that Violeta was so unwaveringly faithful, she was practically untouchable.

Adonis laughed. "Maybe I’m wrong. But a woman like Violeta… she’d never put up with this, not when he’s out cheating left and right anyway."

Raiden hung up, his mind wandering, his brow knitting deeper by the second.

Violeta’s stomach and head were both throbbing. When she climbed into the car, she stumbled, and her nose slammed straight into Quincy’s chest, a dull ache spreading out from the impact.

Quincy settled her into the passenger seat and adjusted the back for her. Her cheeks were flushed pink as she reminded him: "Don’t forget to sign the contract with Darius tomorrow."

"Yeah, but first we’re getting you to the hospital."

Her eyes were closed, sweat beading on her forehead from the stomach pain. "Sorry for the trouble."

At the hospital, after they pumped her stomach, she was ghostly pale. Leaning back against the hospital bed, she looked like all the color had been drained right out of her.

The doctor warned her: "Go easy on the drinking next time. You’re this close to a stomach ulcer—this isn’t something to mess around with."

She pulled on a wobbly smile. "Thank you."

The doctor just sighed, assuming this was just another lovers’ quarrel gone wrong.

Violeta leaned back against the bed, the smell of alcohol still clinging stubbornly to her skin. She discreetly sent money to Leighton Howell, asking her to pick up a fresh set of clothes for her.

She couldn’t go home reeking of liquor. Raiden might not care, but the household staff would gossip like crazy. Coming home smelling of booze two days in a row would get the Reynolds family all up in arms, and she’d end up having to explain herself at the next family dinner before she knew it.

Leighton showed up with fresh clothes, took one look at Violeta’s pale face, and immediately guessed what had gone down.

"Raiden is the absolute worst, isn’t he? He hands his mistress everything on a silver platter, and makes his own wife fight tooth and nail for a lousy supporting role, almost drinking herself to death over it! Fifteen years, Violeta. We’ve been friends for fifteen years. How can he be so damn indifferent to you?"

Violeta remembered Quincy hated messy drama, so she coughed softly to interrupt: "Leighton."

Leighton took a deep breath and bit her tongue. "Fine. I’m done making excuses for Raiden. I’m cutting him off—I swear. After everything you’ve done for him, all the support, handling every single thing he needed… if he had any conscience at all, he’d never let this happen."

Violeta rubbed her throbbing temples. "Just let it go."