Chapter 43

Olivia's POV

The moment my phone rang and Ava’s name flashed on the screen, I knew it wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. I exchanged a wary glance with Zoya, who sat beside me, scrolling through her own phone, probably seeing the same headlines I was avoiding.

I sighed and answered. “Ava.”

“Liv, we need to talk,” Ava’s voice came sharp and urgent, cutting straight to the point. “The studio is not happy with how this is blowing up. They’re talking about finding someone to replace you if we don’t get ahead of it.”

I leaned back into the couch, my fingers tightening around the phone. “Replace me?” I scoffed. “Let them. My contract’s up in a month anyway.”

Ava was silent for a beat. “Olivia, don’t start—”

“I’m serious,” I interrupted. “I’ve been unhappy with this agency for a long time. I’m counting down the days until I’m free. So no, I’m not going to bend over backward for their damage control plan.”

A frustrated sigh crackled through the line. “Look, I get it. But you need to think about your career.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am thinking about it. And it doesn’t include working with an agency that treats me like a PR disaster instead of a person.”

Ava tried again, her voice gentler this time. “Just... don’t make any rash decisions, okay? We can fix this.”

“I don’t need fixing, Ava,” I snapped, the exhaustion bleeding into my tone. “I need to be free.”

Before she could say more, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the table with a frustrated sigh.

Zoya looked up, concern etched into her features. “Ava?”

I nodded. “She’s worried about the studio, saying they might replace me.”

Zoya bit her lip, hesitation flickering across her face. “I got a call too.”

My stomach tightened. “Your agency?”

She nodded slowly. “They... suggested it might be best if I put some distance between us.”

My chest ached at the thought. “And what did you say?”

“I called Michelle,” Zoya replied, referring to my lawyer. “She reassured me that my contract protects my personal choices. They have to support me, or they’ll be in breach of contract.”

Relief washed over me. “I knew Michelle would come through.”

Zoya reached for my hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Olivia.”

I squeezed her hand back, but the lingering fear in her eyes told me just how much pressure she was under.

I found myself pacing around the apartment. The news articles kept refreshing, every click feeding my growing unease. The photo of Zoya and me leaving the set had spread like wildfire, and no matter how many times I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone close was feeding the press.

I scrolled through social media, reading the comments that ranged from supportive to brutal.

“Elijah deserved better.”

“Honestly, I’m not surprised. Olivia’s been distant for a while now.”

“Zoya and Olivia have been a thing for months. It was obvious.”

"I think they look perfect together, let love win"

My hands trembled slightly as I set the phone down. The weight of the world outside our little bubble was creeping in faster than I could hold it back.

I walked over to the window, staring out into the city lights, searching for answers in the blur of headlights and distant sirens. My gut told me that this wasn’t just a random leak. Someone was pulling the strings.

A sudden thought hit me, and before I could stop myself, I grabbed my phone and dialed Ava again. I needed answers.

She answered after a few rings, her voice clipped. “Olivia.”

“Who leaked it, Ava?” My voice was steady, but inside, my heart was racing.

Ava sighed heavily. “Liv, not this again.”

I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, pacing faster. “That’s not an answer, Ava. Someone’s feeding them information, and I want to know who.”

There was a pause on the other end. “I’m doing everything I can to handle this,” Ava finally said, deflecting.

I frowned, pacing faster. “Where are you right now?”

She hesitated. “Why does it matter?”

In the background, I heard it—Elijah’s voice, faint but unmistakable. My stomach turned.

“You’re at my house,” I said slowly, realization hitting me like a brick. “With Elijah.”

Ava’s tone remained eerily calm. “He asked me to stay. His health—”

I cut her off, anger bubbling to the surface. “Ava, you’re my manager, not Elijah’s. Your job is to look out for me, not play babysitter for him.”

“I’m trying to keep things from getting worse,” she shot back. “He’s hurting, Olivia.”

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around the phone. “And I’m not?”

Silence stretched between us.

“You need to figure out where your loyalties lie, Ava,” I said coldly before hanging up.

I stared at my phone, the screen reflecting my own frustration back at me. I had always trusted Ava, but now... now I wasn’t so sure.

Zoya walked up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “What did she say?”

“She’s still with Elijah,” I murmured, leaning into her warmth. “And she won’t tell me anything about the leaks.”

Zoya sighed, resting her chin on my shoulder. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I admitted, closing my eyes for a brief moment. “And it’s making me wonder if she’s been feeding the press this whole time.”

Zoya pulled back slightly to look at me. “You really think Ava would do that?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know. But she’s definitely hiding something.”

Zoya nodded slowly. “Then maybe it’s time we stop trusting her.”

I turned to face her, my hand resting on Zoya’s cheek. “You’re the only person I trust right now.”

She smiled warmly at me before giving me a warm kiss on the back of my hand.

Zoya's POV

The set was unusually quiet when Olivia and I walked in the next morning. It wasn’t the usual pre-shoot bustle or the low hum of chatter that usually filled the air. No, this was different. It was the kind of silence that came with unspoken judgments and sidelong glances, the weight of Elijah’s announcement hanging over everyone like a heavy fog.

I felt Olivia’s shoulders tense beside me, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something—or someone—to hold onto. I knew exactly who she was looking for.

“Ava’s not here,” she said softly, trying to keep my voice even.

I let out a frustrated sigh and her grip on her coffee cup tightening. “Of course, she’s not.”

I frowned. “She should be here, Olivia.”

“She should,” Olivia snapped, her voice sharper than intended. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I just... I can’t deal with this alone today.”

I reached out, brushing my fingers against hers. “You’re not alone.”

She looked at me, the corners of her mouth twitching in something that almost resembled a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know.”

Despite my words, the weight of everything still hung heavy between us. And Ava’s absence only made it worse. Olivia needed her right now—for once, she actually wanted her support—but she was nowhere to be found.

Ezra’s voice pulled us out of our thoughts, cutting through the tension with an air of authority as he gathered the cast and crew for an impromptu meeting. Olivia and I exchanged a wary glance before following the others into the briefing room.

Ezra stood at the front, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the room. He was always good at keeping his emotions in check, but today, there was something different. He was excited. And I didn’t like it.

“Well,” he started, clapping his hands together, “I’d say congratulations are in order.”

A murmur spread through the room, confused and cautious. Olivia stiffened beside me.

“The ratings are through the roof,” Ezra continued, his grin widening. “All thanks to the... media frenzy. This kind of attention is what dreams are made of.”

I felt Olivia’s breath hitch, and I immediately reached for her hand, squeezing it under the table.

Ezra’s words cut like a knife. He didn’t care about Olivia’s pain, about how her life was falling apart in front of the world. To him, it was all just numbers on a screen.

Before I could say anything, Anthony’s voice chimed in from across the room.

“With all due respect, Ezra,” Anthony leaned forward, his voice calm but pointed, “maybe we should be a little more considerate of Olivia’s feelings. This isn’t just ratings—it’s her life we’re talking about.”

The room fell silent, all eyes shifting to Olivia. I saw the way her shoulders eased, the flicker of gratitude in her eyes as she gave Anthony a small nod.

My jaw clenched.

Of course, Anthony would swoop in now, perfectly timing his words to make himself the hero. Olivia’s expression softened, and I hated how easily she fell into his web.

Ezra, unimpressed, shrugged. “Publicity is publicity. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s keeping us relevant. And that’s what matters.”

I could practically feel Olivia holding back the urge to argue, her lips pressed into a thin line. I hated that she had to sit there and listen to them talk about her life like it was some storyline they could milk for ratings.

I leaned in close and whispered, “Ignore them. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

After the meeting, I was heading back to my dressing room when I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Layla.

“Zoya,” she called out, her voice smooth and laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

I sighed and turned around slowly, crossing my arms. “What do you want, Layla?”

She leaned against the wall, her dark eyes scanning me with that same familiar smirk she always wore—condescending, like she was in on some joke I didn’t know.

“Rough day?” she asked, tilting her head.

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you care?”

She pursed her lips, pretending to think about it. “I don’t, really. But... I thought I’d do you a favor.”

I scoffed. “A favor? Since when do you do those?”

She sighed dramatically, stepping closer. “Look, I know you think I’m your enemy, and honestly, I haven’t given you much reason to think otherwise, but...” She trailed off, her gaze flickering around as if making sure no one was listening. “You should be careful.”

I stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

She leaned in just enough to make me uncomfortable. “Not everyone on this set wants what’s best for you. Some people are playing a much bigger game than you realize.”

I felt my pulse quicken, but I kept my expression neutral. “And why should I believe you?”

Layla’s smirk faltered for just a second before she shrugged. “You shouldn’t. But if I were you, I’d stop worrying about Olivia... and start watching my back.”

A chill ran down my spine, but I forced myself to stay composed. “Nice try, Layla. Who sent you to mess with me?”

She rolled her eyes, stepping back. “Believe what you want, Zoya. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I watched as she walked away, leaving me standing there with a gnawing sense of unease.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. This had Anthony written all over it. He probably sent Layla to plant doubt in my mind, to make me second-guess everything.

But something about the way she spoke... it didn’t sit right with me.

I didn’t trust Layla. Not one bit.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t lying.

Olivia's POV

The house was eerily quiet when I stepped inside, the kind of stillness that felt unnatural—like the calm before a storm. My footsteps echoed lightly against the hardwood floor as I walked through the dimly lit hallway, each step heavier than the last.

A part of me already knew what I would find.

I paused outside my bedroom door, my hand hovering over the handle. My heart pounded against my ribcage, but I forced myself to take a deep breath. Just open it, I told myself. You already know the truth.

I pushed the door open slowly. The soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated the scene in front of me—Ava and Elijah, tangled together beneath the sheets. Bare skin. Familiar bodies.

My stomach churned, a bitter taste rising in my throat.

There it was. The confirmation I had been dreading, but deep down, always expected. Ava, my manager, the person who was supposed to have my back, wrapped up in my soon-to-be ex-husband.

A slow, shaky breath escaped my lips, but I didn't feel the tears I thought would come. Instead, I felt... numb. Detached.

Without thinking, I reached for my phone, my fingers steady as I unlocked the camera and raised it. The soft click of the shutter filled the silence, followed by a burst of light as the flash went off.

Ava stirred first, blinking groggily before her eyes went wide in horror. She scrambled up, grabbing at the sheets to cover herself, but it was too late. Elijah sat up next, his face draining of color the moment he saw me standing in the doorway.

"Olivia," Ava stammered, her voice hoarse with sleep and panic.

I stared at them, holding up my phone, the image frozen on the screen. "I guess I should say congratulations," I said, my voice void of emotion, but inside, my heart was cracking in places I didn’t even know existed.

Elijah raked a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching. "Liv, this isn't what it looks like—"

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Save it, Elijah. I'm not interested in your excuses anymore."

Ava reached out, desperation written all over her face. "Please, Olivia, I—"

"Don't," I cut her off coldly. "You don’t get to explain." I pocketed my phone, feeling the weight of it like a loaded gun.

Elijah’s face hardened. "You’re not exactly innocent in all this either."

My chest tightened, but I refused to let him see me break. "You're right," I whispered, my voice trembling with quiet fury. "But at least I was honest about what I wanted."

I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving them scrambling in my wake. The sound of Ava calling my name followed me down the hallway, but I didn’t stop. Not this time.

Outside, the night air hit me like a slap, and for the first time in a long time, I felt free. Heartbroken, yes. But free.

I glanced down at my phone, the incriminating picture staring back at me. I could destroy them with a single post. But would I?

Tucking the phone into my pocket, I let out a shaky breath and whispered to myself, "Not yet."