Chapter 49

Olivia's POV

The music pulsed through the club, vibrating under my feet as I walked inside with Zoya and Sebastian. The dim lights flickered in rhythm with the bass, casting a warm, golden glow over the packed crowd. I glanced around, spotting Ezra and the rest of the cast already gathered in a VIP section near the back, laughter and conversation spilling from their corner.

Sebastian nudged me playfully. "You ready for this, Dalton? It's time to celebrate!"

I offered a small smile, my fingers brushing against Zoya's for the briefest second before pulling away. "Yeah," I replied, my voice steady despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

Zoya gave me a reassuring glance, understanding the silent hesitation I carried. We had agreed to keep things low-key, to act like friends in public. Olivia Dalton wasn't ready for the world to know she was in love with Zoya Al Deeb—not yet.

Zoya didn't mind, or at least, she said she didn't. She understood the pressure, the scrutiny, the weight of my career hanging over us like a ticking clock. But still, I caught the flicker of longing in her eyes whenever we were out like this—just a little too far apart, just a little too careful.

The drinks flowed freely, and for the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to relax. Ezra raised his glass, his voice booming over the music.

"To Amelia and Aurora," he said, grinning, "and to the brilliant cast that brought them to life."

Everyone cheered, clinking their glasses together. I felt Zoya's knee brush against mine under the table, and it was enough to steady me, to remind me why all of this was worth it.

Sebastian threw his arm around me. "See? Told you we needed this."

I laughed softly, taking a sip of my drink, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Sure enough, I glanced toward the entrance and spotted the flashing lights of paparazzi, their cameras pointed directly at us through the glass walls.

"They're watching," I murmured to Zoya, who nodded knowingly.

"They always are," she said softly. "But tonight, let's just... enjoy."

Hours later, as we stumbled out of the club into the cool night air, the city buzzed around us. Sebastian was still laughing at something Ezra had said, and Zoya and I walked side by side, our shoulders barely brushing.

And then I saw her.

Anne.

My stomach twisted the moment our eyes met. She was leaning against the side of the building, her arms crossed, that same smug smirk playing on her lips.

Zoya stiffened beside me, her fingers twitching at her side. "I'll handle it," she whispered, before I could say anything.

I didn't like it, but I nodded. I stayed back, watching as Zoya approached Anne with that cool, composed demeanor she always carried when she was forced into these situations.

The conversation started civil, distant. But Anne had a way of pushing buttons, and it didn't take long for the air to shift. I saw the way Anne's hand lingered too long on Zoya's arm, the way she stepped a little too close, her voice low but sharp.

And then, she touched Zoya's face, her fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.

Something inside me snapped.

I didn't think—I just moved.

Before I knew it, I was there, grabbing Zoya's hand and pulling her away from Anne. And without hesitation, I pressed my lips against hers, right there, in front of everyone.

Zoya gasped softly against my mouth, startled, but she melted into me within seconds, her hands clutching my waist tightly.

The cameras went wild.

Flashes erupted all around us, the shouting of paparazzi blending into the chaos of the moment. But I didn't care. I needed her to know—Anne, the cameras, the world—that Zoya was mine.

When I finally pulled away, Zoya's eyes were wide, her lips parted in surprise.

Anne stood frozen, blinking at us with a mix of shock and bitterness.

"She's with me," I said, my voice firm and unwavering. "And that's not changing."

Sebastian, who had been watching the whole scene with wide eyes, finally let out an exaggerated, triumphant laugh. "About time, Dalton."

Zoya glanced at me, searching my face for any sign of regret, but I squeezed her hand tightly, silently telling her that this was it. No more hiding.

The realization dawned on her slowly, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

I nodded, breathing her in. "I'm sure."

She bit her lip, a quiet laugh escaping her. "Well... I guess the secret's out."

I looked at the cameras still flashing, the reporters already shouting questions, and I grinned. "Yeah... I guess it is."

And with that, we walked away together, hand in hand, with the world watching.

But for once, I didn't care.

By the time we reached the car, my heart was still pounding in my chest, the adrenaline from what just happened coursing through me like wildfire. My grip on Zoya's hand tightened instinctively as if I was afraid that letting go would make everything unreal.

Sebastian slid into the backseat with a grin stretched across his face, nudging me playfully. "Well, Liv, that was definitely one way to break the internet."

I exhaled sharply, leaning my head back against the seat. "God, what did I just do?"

Zoya turned to me, her expression soft but laced with concern. "You told the world the truth," she said gently, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Are you okay with that?"

I met her eyes, searching them for any sign of regret. "Yeah... I think I am."

Sebastian snorted from the backseat. "Well, you better be, because I guarantee your face is plastered on every gossip site right now." He held up his phone, showing us a flood of notifications already pouring in.

Zoya groaned and covered her face. "That was fast."

I took the phone from him, scrolling through the headlines:

"Olivia Dalton CONFIRMS relationship with co-star Zoya Al Deeb in explosive public kiss!"

"Olivia and Zoya—Was it all for show, or are they the real deal?"

"Inside the secret romance of Hollywood's hottest on-screen couple!"

I felt a lump rise in my throat. "I guess there's no turning back now."

Zoya nudged me playfully. "You were the one who kissed me, remember?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, well, Anne was getting too close."

Sebastian burst into laughter. "And you made sure the whole world knew she doesn't stand a chance."

I sighed, handing the phone back to him. "What do we do now?"

Zoya shifted closer, her voice soft. "We keep moving forward. Together."

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. The faint light of dawn streamed through Zoya's bedroom window, casting soft shadows across her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, her hair fanned out over the pillow, her lips slightly parted.

For a moment, I just watched her, my chest tightening with something I could finally name—love.

The phone buzzed again, snapping me back to reality. I groaned softly, reaching for it, squinting at the screen. Ava's name flashed across it.

I quietly slipped out of bed, stepping into the hallway before answering. "Ava?"

"Liv," she sighed on the other end. "I assume you've seen the news?"

I leaned against the wall, rubbing my temple. "Yeah. Hard to miss."

There was a pause before she asked, "Are you ready for what comes next?"

I swallowed, staring at the framed pictures on the wall—snapshots of Zoya with her friends, her family. "I don't know. But I have Zoya."

Ava's voice softened. "Then you're already halfway there."

I exhaled slowly. "What's the damage?"

Ava chuckled dryly. "Surprisingly... not as bad as you'd think. The LGBTQ+ community is rallying behind you, fans are going crazy with support, and the studio... well, they're trying to figure out how to spin it, but so far, no major backlash."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. "That's... that's good, right?"

"It's better than expected," Ava confirmed. "But Liv, this isn't going away. You need to be ready to handle interviews, press conferences, all of it."

I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "I know."

A soft voice from behind me made me turn. "Everything okay?"

Zoya stood in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, her sleepy eyes filled with quiet concern.

I smiled, reaching for her hand. "Yeah. Everything's okay."

Ava's voice came through the phone. "Olivia?"

"I have to go, Ava," I said, squeezing Zoya's hand gently. "I'll call you later."

Hanging up, I pulled Zoya into my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Good morning."

She smiled against my chest. "Good morning."

How can things not be okay?

The soft morning light streamed through the curtains of our apartment, casting a warm glow across the room. I sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through my phone, scanning the endless stream of articles and social media posts. My face, our faces, were everywhere.

Zoya walked in, her hair slightly tousled, wearing my oversized sweatshirt that nearly swallowed her whole. She held two cups of coffee, setting one in front of me before sinking onto the couch beside me.

"Anything new?" she asked, curling up against me.

I sighed, setting my phone down. "The same. Speculation, rumors, and people trying to decide if we're real or just another publicity stunt."

Zoya rolled her eyes. "Because kissing you in front of an entire crowd of paparazzi is something we planned."

I chuckled, taking a sip of my coffee. "Yeah, well, we should've hired better photographers."

She smiled but there was something in her eyes—something uncertain.

Before I could say anything, my phone buzzed. A message from Ezra.

"Call me ASAP. The Morning Show wants you and Zoya for an exclusive interview."

I stared at the message, my heart pounding.

"What is it?" Zoya asked, sitting up straighter.

I handed her my phone, watching as her brows furrowed. She set the phone down and met my gaze. "Do you want to do it?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know... I mean, part of me thinks we should. The rumors are getting out of hand, and this might be a way to take control of the story. But the other part..."

Zoya reached for my hand, her fingers lacing with mine. "The other part is scared?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

She leaned her head against my shoulder, letting out a soft breath. "I get it. But... maybe you're right. If we do this, we do it on our terms. No more hiding, no more speculation."

I turned to her, our faces inches apart. "Are you sure?"

Zoya smiled softly. "I am. We're in this together, right?"

I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Always."