The air conditioning in the SUV blasted cold air against Grace's face. She drove with one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel. The car glided smoothly up the winding roads of the Beverly Hills canyons.

She glanced at the encrypted phone sitting on the passenger seat. She reached over, tapped the screen, and dialed Hayden's private number on speaker.

The phone rang. It rang seven times.

Finally, the line clicked open. The faint sound of fabric rustling echoed through the car speakers.

"Hey, baby," Hayden said. His signature deep, magnetic voice sounded perfectly gentle.

Grace's fingers tightened around the leather steering wheel. Her knuckles turned white. Her stomach churned, a wave of pure nausea hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed it down.

"How is the shoot going?" Grace asked. Her voice was perfectly even.

Hayden let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. "Exhausting. The director is being a nightmare today. I am just lying in my dressing room trying to memorize these lines."

The image of him pressing Jacey into the leather sofa flashed behind Grace's eyes. The nausea twisted into a sharp, burning anger.

"I can come over tonight," Grace said, softening her tone artificially. "I can cook you a big dinner at the house. You need to relax."

There was a dead pause on the other end of the line. The silence stretched for three seconds. Hayden was caught off guard.

"No, no, baby," Hayden said quickly. His voice pitched up a fraction of an inch. "I have an early call time tomorrow. I do not want you driving all the way up here. You work too hard for me already."

Grace stared at the road ahead. Her eyes narrowed into cold slits. He was a liar to his core. Every word out of his mouth was a calculated manipulation to maintain his perfect image.

"Okay," Grace said smoothly. "Get some rest."

She ended the call.

She slammed her foot on the brake. The SUV jerked to a halt at a scenic overlook. The sprawling, glittering city of Los Angeles stretched out below her.

Grace picked up the encrypted phone. She used facial recognition and a thumbprint scan to bypass the security firewalls. She logged directly into the confidential mainframe of the Sykes Consortium.

The screen populated with the complete financial data of Starlight Entertainment Investments. It was a company she had created in secret. She was the sole capital provider.

She pulled up the asset list under Hayden's name. She stared at the top-tier endorsement deals and the massive movie contracts. She had bought every single one of them for him.

Grace dialed the direct line of Aya Vance, the CEO of Starlight Entertainment and her closest friend.

"Emergency meeting," Grace said the second the line connected.

Aya heard the sharp edge in Grace's voice. She immediately dropped the Wall Street merger file in her hands and logged into the secure audio room.

"Double the marketing budget for Hayden's upcoming Oscar-bait movie. I want it to be the most hyped film of the year," Grace ordered.

Aya went silent for a second. "Grace, we already poured millions into that project. Doubling it will artificially inflate his value beyond market logic. What happened?"

"I want to inflate him," Grace said, her voice dropping to a terrifying calm. "I want him to think he is untouchable. And while he is distracted by the spotlight, I want the legal team to start drafting a strategy to strip him of every ounce of commercial value he possesses."

Grace tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. "Have them review the morality clauses in his original endorsement contracts and agency agreements. Do it quietly. No one breathes a word."

Aya inhaled sharply. She knew Grace. She knew Grace never made emotional business decisions unless the line had been crossed permanently.

"Consider it done," Aya said.

Grace ended the call. She put the car in drive and headed down the mountain toward her luxury apartment in Century City.

She pulled into the underground garage, took the private elevator, and stepped directly into her penthouse. The massive space was filled with cold, minimalist furniture. It matched the emptiness in her chest.

She walked straight to the marble bar. She poured three fingers of neat whiskey into a glass and swallowed it in one gulp. The alcohol burned a fiery path down her throat, clearing the last remnants of hesitation from her mind.

She opened her laptop. She connected her phone and uploaded the audio file from the studio corridor to a multi-encrypted private cloud server.

The progress bar hit one hundred percent. The trap was set.

Her phone screen lit up on the counter. It was a goodnight text from Hayden. He had attached a selfie. He was lying in bed alone, holding a script. The background was carefully cropped.

Grace stared at the fake photo. She set the empty whiskey glass down hard on the marble.

She grabbed her car keys. She was going back out.

The clock on the dashboard read midnight. Grace's SUV rolled to a silent stop in front of the massive black iron gates of Hayden's Beverly Hills mansion.

She did not press the intercom button. She pulled out her phone. She opened the smart home application. Because she had set up his entire life as his assistant, she held the master administrative privileges.

She tapped the screen. The perimeter security system deactivated instantly.

The heavy iron gates slid open without a sound. Grace drove the SUV into the hidden side garage, completely bypassing the main security cameras.

Inside the master bedroom on the second floor, Hayden and Jacey were drinking champagne. They were celebrating the news of a massive blockbuster role Hayden was about to sign.

Jacey was wearing Hayden's oversized dress shirt. Her bare feet sank into the expensive wool rug. She spun around the room, already imagining herself as the permanent mistress of the house.

Grace walked up the grand staircase. Her steps were slow and deliberate. She stopped outside the heavy mahogany door of the master bedroom. It was cracked open. The sound of Jacey giggling drifted into the hallway.

Grace did not push the door open. She leaned against the wall and pulled out her phone. She opened her messages and typed a text to Hayden.

I miss you. I am right outside your door.

She hit send.

Inside the bedroom, Hayden's phone lit up on the nightstand. A sharp chime cut through the music playing in the room.

Hayden casually picked up the phone. He glanced at the screen.

All the blood drained from his face. His skin turned the color of ash. He shot up from the edge of the bed so fast he nearly dropped his glass. Champagne sloshed over the rim, soaking into the expensive white bedsheets.

Jacey jumped back. "What are you doing? You ruined the sheets!" She reached for his phone.

Hayden slapped her hand away violently. "Shut up!" he hissed, his voice trembling. "Grace is outside the door!"

Jacey's face froze. Panic instantly took over. She started spinning in circles, looking for a place to hide like a trapped rat.

Standing in the hallway, Grace listened to the frantic scrambling inside. A cold, mocking smile spread across her face.

Hayden looked around wildly. His eyes locked onto the massive walk-in closet at the far end of the room.

He grabbed Jacey by the wrist. He dragged her across the carpet.

Jacey dug her heels in. "Why do I have to hide?" she whispered angrily. "Just tell the assistant it is over!"

Hayden whirled around and gripped her shoulders hard. "If she catches us, I am finished! Everything is gone! The endorsements, the movies, all of it! Get in the closet, now!"

The threat of losing the money worked. Jacey bit her lip hard and stopped fighting. Hayden shoved her roughly into the dark closet.

He slammed the door shut and engaged the sturdy lock on the outside. Jacey was locked inside the dark, windowless closet.

Hayden sprinted back to the bed. He kicked Jacey's scattered clothes under the frame. He shoved the extra champagne glass under the mattress. He ran his hands frantically through his hair, messing it up to look like he had just woken up.

He stood in the middle of the room, his chest heaving as he tried to slow his racing heart.

Outside, Grace looked at her watch. She waited exactly two minutes. She let the terror marinate.

Then, she raised her hand.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The three sharp raps echoed through the silent hallway.

Inside, Hayden flinched. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and forced his voice to sound sleepy. "It is open, baby. Come in."

Grace pushed the heavy mahogany door open. The light from the hallway spilled into the room, casting a long shadow across the floor.

She stepped inside. Her eyes swept the room. It looked clean. But her gaze instantly locked onto the massive, wet stain of spilled champagne spreading across the center of the bed.

Hayden walked toward her. He stretched his arms out, a flawless, loving smile plastered on his face. He went in for a hug.

Grace shifted her weight and stepped to the side. Hayden's arms grasped empty air.

She walked past him and sat down on the white leather sofa. "I drove a long way," she said coldly. "I have dust on my clothes."

Hayden lowered his arms slowly. His hands felt clammy. A deep sense of unease settled in his stomach. Grace was acting wrong. She was too calm.

Grace crossed her legs elegantly on the sofa. She leaned back. Her eyes drifted slowly across the floor and stopped at the edge of the bed.

A single pink lace bra strap was poking out from beneath the bed skirt.

Hayden followed her gaze. His heart slammed against his ribs. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He casually walked over to the bed and kicked the strap deep under the frame with his heel.

He turned around and forced a bright, eager smile. "Why did you come all the way up here so late? Is something wrong at work?"

Grace looked up. Her eyes were sharp, cutting straight through his fake concern. "Am I not welcome here?"

Hayden felt the hair on his arms stand up. He ran a hand through his messy hair nervously. "No, of course you are. I just worry about you working so late." He took a step toward the bar cart. "Let me get you some water."

Grace raised her hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Go take a shower," she ordered. Her voice left no room for argument. "You smell like cheap perfume. It is making me sick."

Hayden froze. He lifted his collar to his nose. He could smell Jacey's heavy floral scent clinging to the fabric. His throat went dry. He nodded quickly.

He turned toward the bathroom. Then he stopped. He remembered the ticking time bomb locked inside the closet.

Hayden turned back to Grace. He forced a tight smile. "I need to grab some clean pajamas from the closet first."

Grace leaned her head against the sofa. She gestured toward the closet door with an open palm. Her eyes danced with dark amusement. "Go ahead."

Hayden practically ran to the closet. He fumbled with the metal latch, his hands shaking. He pulled the door open, slipped inside, and pulled it shut behind him.

The closet was pitch black. The second the door clicked shut, Jacey lunged out of the darkness. She dug her manicured nails into Hayden's forearm.

"Why am I locked in here like an animal?" Jacey hissed, her voice trembling with rage and humiliation.

Hayden winced in pain. He clamped his hand over her mouth and shoved her backward. Her spine hit the hard wood of the custom suit cabinets.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to her ear. "Keep quiet," he breathed. "If we survive tonight, I will buy you that limited-edition Birkin bag tomorrow."

Jacey's body went stiff. The promise of the bag outweighed her pride. She stopped fighting. But she was furious. She sank her teeth into the fabric of his shirt, biting his shoulder hard.

Outside, Grace sat perfectly still. The closet was heavily insulated, but she could hear the faint rustling of fabric and the muffled thud of bodies hitting the wood. Her stomach turned with disgust.

Inside the closet, Hayden grabbed a silk robe off a hanger. He shoved Jacey away and warned her one last time with a harsh glare she could not see in the dark.

He opened the door and stepped out. He smoothed his face back into a calm expression.

Grace looked at him. She stared directly at his chest. "Your buttons are misaligned," she said flatly.

Hayden looked down. In the struggle, his shirt had been pulled sideways. He quickly fumbled with the buttons. "I was just... taking it off too fast."

Grace did not call him out. She just tilted her chin toward the bathroom door. "Shower."

Hayden did not waste another second. He walked quickly into the bathroom and shut the heavy glass door. A moment later, the loud rush of water hitting the tiles filled the room.

Grace stood up from the sofa. She walked slowly around the room, owning the space.

She stopped at the nightstand. She picked up the second champagne glass Hayden had hidden behind a picture frame. She held it up to the light. A bright red lipstick stain marked the rim.

Grace let out a sharp, cold laugh. She slammed the glass down on the marble top of the nightstand. The sharp clink of glass on stone echoed loudly through the room.

She made sure the person in the closet heard it.

Inside the dark closet, Jacey jumped. She slapped both hands over her mouth, terrified to make a sound.

Grace walked to the heavy wooden door of the closet. She stopped. She ran her fingertips lightly over the doorframe. She knew the woman trying to steal her life was shivering just inches away.

Grace raised her hand and curled her index finger.