Martin's breath caught in his chest, and he ground out, "Don't tell me you still can't let go of that bastard Finn."
Kristen lifted her gaze at him as if to say: Are you out of your mind?
"Once those chat logs go public, it's an open war with the Gu family," Kristen said evenly, her voice slightly hoarse. "Do you think the company will keep me then?"
She could tear things up with Finn, but crossing the Gu family would mean a blacklist. At that point, it wouldn't just be "leaving the industry."
Martin exhaled in relief. "Good thing you reminded me. Otherwise, it wouldn't just be you getting blacklisted—I'd be rolling up my sleeping bag too."
He paused, then looked her over, half-exasperated, half-appraising. "Your head seems pretty clear now. So why were you such a lovesick fool before—no kiss scenes, no CP promo, all for that scumbag Finn!"
With a face like hers, if she'd wanted to play the hype game, stardom would've been easy.
"I…" Kristen opened her mouth to explain, then swallowed the words.
It wasn't only for Finn. She had also made a promise on the other side; otherwise, she'd have to accept the arrangement and be shipped back to Country A.
Seeing she didn't want to talk, Martin didn't press. "Forget it. Let's focus on solving the crisis right in front of us."
Kristen rubbed her brow, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. "Help me discharge first. I want to go home and rest."
Martin had been furious at her romance-brain—quitting the industry for a man—and he'd been so mad he hadn't even gone to the wedding. Now that the wedding was off and her romance-brain seemed excised, he bustled off to handle the paperwork.
He drove her back to the company-rented apartment. Before leaving, he reminded her to rest. As for the online mess, he'd think of a plan back at the office—there was always a way.
3:00 a.m.
The shrill ring of her phone yanked Kristen awake. She glanced at the screen, declined the call, and lay back down.
The phone rang again.
After a moment's hesitation, she sat up and answered. "Hello."
"This is Ethan Qin," a man's cool, hard voice sounded on the line, the displeasure plain. "Finn is drunk at The One. Come over."
Ethan Qin was Finn's friend—and one of the hottest young directors in the industry.
"We've already broken up. You've got the wrong person," Kristen said, about to hang up.
"Kristen, do you have a heart or not?" Ethan snapped. "You humiliated him that badly today, and he didn't blame you. He's drunk now. You should come apologize and take care of him."
He didn't give her a chance to respond. "If you still want a career, you have thirty minutes to get to The One."
The One was a members-only club—discreet, with excellent privacy—well loved by the Capital's young elites.
Finn and his friends had a private room there year-round. Whenever they had nothing to do, they'd drop in and drink.
Kristen had been there twice. She didn't need staff to lead the way and made it straight to the private room.
She knocked. No answer. She pushed the door open. In the dim light, she saw Finn sprawled on the sofa, a black marble table in front of him crowded with bottles.
Ethan Qin sat beside him, a glass in hand. In a darker corner, another man sat with a cigarette between his fingers. The ember flared and dimmed, faintly sketching the hard planes of his face. When his pitch-black, cutting gaze swept her way—
Kristen's heart clenched. She hadn't expected to see him again so soon.
Ethan noticed her come in, set down his glass, and gave a cold snort. "You're here. Apologize to Finn properly."
( End of Chapter )