The scandal did not wait until noon to erupt. It began as a whisper in the industry's closed circles, but by the time the clock struck eight, Serena Vayne's name was already trending across every news feed, gossip column, and entertainment site.
She was at home when the first call came—her agent's voice sharp enough to cut through the silk curtains of her bedroom.
"Serena! Do you even realize what you've done?"
She sat up lazily, running a hand through her disheveled hair, eyes narrowing at the shrill tone. "I don't understand what you're yelling about at this hour."
"You don't—" His voice broke with disbelief. "The blacklist, Serena. Do you even know what that means? Do you even know the damage you've caused me, our contracts, our future—"
She rolled her eyes. "Please. Blacklists don't last forever. I'll talk my way out of it. I always do."
But this time, her agent's laugh was humorless. "Not this time. Not when half the industry is suddenly lining up to testify against you."
