Karina tossed her empty cola cup into a trash can with perfect precision. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her cheap windbreaker and walked down the hallway, heading back to her dressing room for a touch-up.

As she rounded the corner, Candice blocked her path. Two massive bodyguards and an assistant flanked the lead actress.

Candice had already reapplied her makeup. A vicious sneer twisted her lips. The sweet, innocent mask she wore in front of Jefferson was completely gone.

"Karina, don't think you can turn things around just because you got lucky in one scene today," Candice spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You'll never wash off the label of being a desperate, obsessed stalker!"

Karina stopped walking. She kept her hands in her pockets and didn't even lift her eyelids. She looked at Candice as if the woman were nothing more than empty air.

At the far end of the hallway, hidden in the shadows, Jefferson had been on his way out. Hearing the commotion, he stopped. His piercing gaze locked onto the confrontation through the dim light.

[Is this idiot a fly? Why is she buzzing around everywhere I go? ]

Karina's crisp, annoyed thought crossed the physical distance and slammed right into Jefferson's brain.

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his broad shoulders against the wall, and decided to enjoy the show.

Seeing Karina ignore her, Candice thought she was scared. She took a step forward, emboldened. "Kole and I are going to be the main couple on the reality show. You better behave yourself and play your part as my stepping stone!"

Karina finally looked up. Her eyes were as dead and calm as stagnant water. She stared at Candice, visually assessing the structural integrity of the woman's body.

[That neck is so thin. One quick snap and it's broken. But there are cameras here. Murder is illegal. Too much paperwork. ] Karina weighed her options seriously in her head.

In the shadows, Jefferson heard the casual, murderous thought. His pupils dilated. His heart skipped a beat for no logical reason. She wasn't joking.

Candice felt the hairs on her arms stand up under Karina's dead-eyed stare. Relying on her bodyguards, she yelled, "What are you looking at? ! I'll have them throw you out!"

[If this idiot says one more word, I'm going to give her a beautiful roundhouse kick to the jaw. I guarantee she'll be drinking her meals through a tube for the rest of her life. ] Karina sneered internally.

"Pfft-"

Standing in the dark, Jefferson actually laughed out loud. The mental image was too vivid. He could perfectly picture Candice flying through the air like a broken doll.

The low, rich sound of his laugh was jarring in the quiet hallway. Candice and Karina both snapped their heads toward the shadows.

Jefferson stepped out into the light with slow, deliberate grace. The dim wall sconces illuminated his flawless face, catching the lingering trace of amusement in his eyes.

Candice's face changed instantly. The arrogant bully vanished, replaced by a terrified, fragile rabbit. "Jeff... what are you doing here?"

Karina frowned slightly, a flash of high alert in her eyes. [Does this block of wood have a fetish for eavesdropping? ]

Hearing that, the amusement in Jefferson's eyes deepened. He was absolutely certain now. He wasn't losing his mind. He had acquired a supernatural ability that belonged exclusively to this woman.

He ignored Candice completely. He walked straight up to Karina, his tall frame towering over her. He looked down, his gaze carrying a heavy, probing aggression.

"The security here is garbage. Any random fly can just buzz its way in," Jefferson said coldly. His words were directed at Karina, but his freezing eyes slid over to Candice.

Candice turned ashen. She heard the undisguised insult loud and clear. Her eyes welled with tears, and she bit her lip.

Before things could escalate, director Arthur came running down the hall, clutching a walkie-talkie. "Karina! Thank God you're still here!"

Arthur ignored the bizarre tension in the air. "That scene had so much raw power, I decided to rewrite the script! You're officially wrapped for the day! You can go home early!"

The moment Karina heard the word 'wrapped', the rigid tension in her shoulders vanished.

[Thank God. I can finally go to sleep. Whoever wants to work this garbage job can have it. ]

Jefferson listened to her sudden shift into pure laziness, fighting the urge to smile. He realized he was actually looking forward to hearing more of her unfiltered thoughts.

Karina gave the director a polite nod of thanks. Without sparing a single glance at Jefferson or Candice, she turned and walked into her dressing room, shutting the door.

Candice stood frozen, her nails digging bloody crescents into her palms. Not only had she failed to humiliate Karina, but she had also embarrassed herself in front of Jefferson again.

Jefferson stared at the closed dressing room door for a long moment. He turned his head slightly toward Julian, who was standing behind him.

"Tell the PR department to pull every single piece of data on Karina Abbott's current online reputation," Jefferson ordered.

Jefferson walked out the main gates of the studio lot, surrounded by his wall of bodyguards. The dying sunlight of the Los Angeles evening hit his cold, aristocratic face.

A black, bulletproof Maybach was already idling at the curb. The driver respectfully pulled open the heavy rear door.

Arthur came jogging out after them, his face plastered with a desperate, fawning smile, trying to secure Jefferson for a cameo in his next film.

Jefferson stopped. He shoved one hand into the pocket of his tailored trousers. His tone was flat, but the oppressive weight of his authority was undeniable. "Arthur, your set is too loud today."

Arthur froze. Cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. Everyone in the industry knew the second son of the Stein family despised unprofessionalism and noise.

"That actress, Candice. She spends too much energy spraying perfume and socializing in the hallways," Jefferson said, casually adjusting his cufflink. It was a lethal, precise strike.

Arthur understood immediately. The apex predator was expressing extreme dissatisfaction with Candice. He nodded frantically. "I understand completely, Jeff. I won't let her ruin the atmosphere of the set again."

Jefferson gave a curt nod and bent down, sliding into the spacious leather backseat of the Maybach. The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off the noise of the outside world.

Inside the car, Julian sat in the passenger seat. He turned around, staring at his boss in absolute shock. "Were you... were you just standing up for that Karina girl?"

Jefferson leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. His voice was lazy. "I was simply stating a fact that affects Hollywood's industrial standards."

Julian rolled his eyes, mentally calling bullshit. But he didn't dare cross the man who paid his salary, so he kept his mouth shut.

Just as the Maybach began to pull away from the curb, Jefferson's eyes snapped open. He caught a faint, static-like frequency buzzing in his brain.

[Hey! Taxi! Stop right there! My legs are going to fall off! I need to go home and lay down! ]

Jefferson turned his head and looked out the tinted window.

Karina was standing on the sidewalk, wearing a cheap, faded windbreaker and a battered backpack, waving frantically at a yellow cab.

She had scrubbed her face clean of makeup. In the sunset, her bare face possessed a breathtaking, fragile beauty, but her movements were as rough and aggressive as a construction worker's.

The cab pulled over, and Karina slid into the back seat like a slippery eel. The car sped off down the street.

As the taxi drove further away, the crisp voice in Jefferson's head grew fainter and fainter, until it completely disappeared into silence.

Jefferson's long fingers began a slow, rhythmic tapping against the leather armrest. His eyes darkened, turning dangerous. He had just confirmed the physical rules of his telepathy: it had a distance limit.

"Julian," Jefferson said suddenly. His voice filled the quiet cabin.

"Yes, boss. What do you need?" Julian straightened his spine immediately.

"That reality dating show pitch deck Leland Finch sent over. Heartbeat Weekly. Send it to my tablet."

Julian's hand jerked, nearly dropping his own tablet onto the gearshift. He whipped his head around, his face pale. "Excuse me? ! That trashy, scripted dating show? !"

"You are an A-list actor with zero scandals! If you go on a show like that, your fans will literally riot!" Julian protested, his voice rising in panic.

Jefferson didn't raise his voice. He simply turned his head, his cold, amber eyes fixing on his agent with an eerie, unblinking stillness. The silence stretched for a suffocating second. "Just send it, Julian," he said softly, the quiet authority in his tone far more terrifying than a shout.

The crushing weight of Jefferson's dominance slammed Julian's mouth shut. Gritting his teeth, Julian tapped his screen and forwarded the file.

Jefferson looked down at the glowing screen. He scrolled to the cast list. Karina Abbott's name was right there, highlighted in red ink with the note: Controversial Foil.

His fingertip slowly traced over her name on the glass. A dark, predatory smirk curled the corner of his mouth.

He was going to find out exactly what secrets this woman was hiding-the woman whose thoughts had violently forced their way into his silent world.

At that exact moment, Julian's phone rang. It was the head of the PR department. "Julian! The data you asked for on Karina just exploded! The whole internet is ripping her apart for assaulting Candice on set!"

Hearing the panicked voice through the phone, a terrifying, icy glint flashed in Jefferson's eyes.

Someone was trying to touch his prey. They were asking for death.

Night fell over Los Angeles. Karina sat cross-legged on the lumpy, faded sofa in her run-down apartment. A massive, greasy Hawaiian pizza sat in an open cardboard box on the coffee table.

She took a huge bite, the hot, stringy cheese burning her tongue in the best way possible. She let out a sigh of pure contentment and swiped her thumb across her phone screen, opening Twitter.

The trending topics were a bloodbath.

KarinaAbbottSetBully, CancelKarina, and GetOutOfHollywood dominated the top three spots, accompanied by glaring red 'Hot' tags.

Candice's troll farms had done their job. They released a blurry, heavily edited video that cut out Candice's initial slap. It only showed Karina violently grabbing Candice's wrist and throwing her to the floor.

The comment section was a cesspool of slut-shaming and death threats. Candice's rabid fans were spamming the feed, demanding Karina be permanently blacklisted.

Karina stared at the vicious curses with a completely blank face. Her heart rate didn't even spike. Honestly, she thought the pineapple on this pizza was roasted to perfection.

To a survivor who had crawled out of mass graves in a war zone, this bloodless, cyber-bullying felt like the impotent rage of kindergarteners.

She clicked on Candice's latest tweet. It was a masterclass in manipulation: "I had a little scare on set today, but my senior taught me a valuable lesson. I'll keep working hard. [Crying selfie]"

Karina let out a cold, sharp laugh. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She didn't use a burner account. She quote-tweeted Candice directly from her official, verified page.

[Caption: If your skin is that thick, why didn't you get your chin implant fixed while you were at it? You're welcome. Just doing my job as your senior. ]

She hit send, tossed the phone into the corner of the sofa, and went back to systematically destroying the rest of the pizza.

Within ten minutes of that unapologetic tweet going live, it had been retweeted over a hundred thousand times, causing the app to lag and momentarily crash for some users. The internet lost its collective mind.

Miles away, in the penthouse office of the Stein Media Group, Jefferson stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at the glittering grid of Los Angeles.

Julian burst through the heavy oak doors, sweating profusely and waving a tablet. "Boss! Karina has lost her damn mind! She just publicly accused Candice of plastic surgery on her main account!"

Jefferson turned around. He took the tablet and read the arrogant, ruthless response. A deep, genuine wave of amusement washed through his amber eyes.

This was the feral cat he had heard in his head, threatening roundhouse kicks. She didn't back down. Her claws were razor-sharp.

"Tell the PR department to buy the full, unedited security footage from the set. But do not release it. Keep it locked down," Jefferson ordered, his voice cool and calculated.

"Why not release it now? ! It would instantly clear her name and destroy Candice!" Julian yelled, completely baffled.

"Releasing it now is boring." Jefferson tossed the tablet onto his mahogany desk. His tone was pure, dark manipulation. "I want to let this fire burn until the exact moment the reality show goes live. Then, we turn it into a nuclear bomb."

Julian looked at his boss's ruthless expression and felt a chill run down his spine. He silently prayed for Candice's soul.

Meanwhile, the doorbell to Karina's apartment buzzed frantically. Her agent, Rachel Webb, was pounding on the door like a maniac.

Karina walked over, chewing on a piece of pizza crust, and yanked open the heavy security door.

"Karina Abbott! Do you have a death wish? ! Who told you to post that tweet? !" Rachel screamed, storming into the apartment and tearing at her own hair.

Karina handed her a paper towel. Her tone was as detached as a bystander's. "I was just stating a fact. She definitely has a chin implant. I felt it when I grabbed her."

Rachel choked, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. She collapsed onto the sofa. "The whole internet is boycotting your appearance on Heartbeat Weekly! The producers are under massive pressure to drop you!"

"Then cancel the contract. I didn't want to go anyway." Karina shrugged, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a cold can of cola.

"Cancel? ! Do you think you can afford the breach of contract fee? !" Rachel leaped up, unzipping her briefcase and slamming a thick stack of bills onto the coffee table.

"Look at these! The original Karina maxed out every single credit card in your name to buy that scumbag Kole limited-edition watches and sports cars! You are currently three million dollars in debt! I've been trying to negotiate with the banks for months, hoping to keep this quiet, but with this new scandal blowing up, they're panicking and calling in all your debts at once! We're completely out of time, Karina!"

Karina's hand froze on the pop-tab of the cola can. The lazy indifference vanished from her eyes, replaced by a shock and fury so intense it made the air in the room drop ten degrees.

"Three... million... dollars?" she ground out through clenched teeth, staring at the stack of paper.

The impenetrable defenses of a war zone warlord had just been brutally shattered by the crushing weight of capitalist debt.