When Aria opened her eyes the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the complete structural failure of her defenses.
The "Great Wall of China"—the magnificent fortress of pillows, bolsters, and rolled-up duvets she had painstakingly constructed down the center of the bed—was gone.
It wasn't just breached; it was demolished. The pillows were scattered across the floor like the ruins of a lost civilization.
And Aria was, once again, functioning as a human octopus attached to Damien Sinclair.
Her head was resting on his shoulder. Her arm was thrown across his chest. And her leg—her traitorous left leg—was hooked over his waist, effectively pinning him to the mattress.
And just like the previous morning, Damien wasn't asleep.
He was wide awake, scrolling through emails on his phone with his free hand. His other arm was tucked behind his head, looking completely unbothered by the fact that a woman was clinging to him like a barnacle.
Aria froze, her heart doing a somersault.
'Play dead. Maybe he won't notice.'
"I know you're awake," Damien's voice rumbled, the vibration traveling straight from his chest to her ear. "Your breathing changed."
Aria grimaced. She peeled herself off him, scrambling to the other side of the massive bed. She grabbed a surviving pillow from the floor and hugged it to her chest as a shield.
"You destroyed the wall," she accused, her voice raspy with sleep.
Damien didn't look up from his phone. "Your wall was structurally unsound. It collapsed at 2 AM."
"Liar. You kicked it down."
Damien finally glanced at her. His golden eyes were clear, rested, and amused. He looked unfairly good for 7 AM—his silver hair slightly messy, the dark stubble on his jaw making him look rugged rather than unkempt.
"I don't kick in my sleep, Mrs. Sinclair," he drawled. "I sleep like the dead. You, however, thrash around like a drowning swimmer. You invaded my territory."
Aria opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. She did have a history of being an active sleeper.
"Whatever," she muttered, climbing out of bed and smoothing down the oversized white shirt. "I need to go. I have work."
Damien sat up, the sheet pooling at his waist. "Work? You're going to Starlight Media?"
"Yes. I need to dissolve my contract with my current manager. He's Bella's dog. If I stay with him, my career dies."
"Tony Miller," Damien said. It wasn't a question.
Aria paused. "How do you know his name?"
"I bought the company, remember? I read the personnel files." Damien stood up and walked toward the bathroom. "Wait ten minutes. I'll drop you off."
"No!" Aria exclaimed. "If you drop me off in a Rolls Royce, everyone will know!"
Damien stopped and turned, leaning against the doorframe. "Know what? That you're sleeping with the boss? You are sleeping with the boss."
"I want to reclaim my career on my own merit," Aria argued, her chin lifting stubbornly. "If I walk in there as 'Mrs. Sinclair,' no one will respect my acting. They'll just fear you. I want them to fear me."
Damien studied her for a moment. He saw the fire in her emerald eyes. It was the same fire that had made her threaten Lucas in front of hundreds of people.
He liked that fire.
"Fine," Damien conceded. "Take the black sedan. It's unmarked. But take Ken."
Aria hesitated, then nodded. "Deal."
An hour later, the black sedan pulled up to the curb of Starlight Media.
Aria stepped out. She had changed back into her own clothes—jeans and a crisp white blouse she had asked Ken to retrieve from her apartment earlier. She wore large sunglasses to hide her face, though the "Rose Gold" hair was a dead giveaway.
She took a deep breath.
In her past life, this building had been a place of humiliation. Bella had been the Queen of Starlight, and Aria had been the "ugly duckling" sister kept in the basement.
'Not anymore.'
She pushed through the glass doors.
The lobby was bustling. Phones were ringing, assistants were running with coffee, and the smell of ambition and fear hung heavy in the air.
As soon as Aria walked in, the noise level dropped.
Heads turned. Whispers started like a brushfire.
"Is that her? The one from the party?"
"She actually showed up? I thought Lucas banned her."
"Look at her hair... did she dye it?"
Aria ignored them. She walked straight toward the elevator. But before she could press the button, a shrill voice cut through the lobby.
"Aria Vale! You have the nerve to show your face here?"
A short, balding man in a poorly fitted suit marched toward her. His face was red, and he was flanked by two security guards.
It was Tony Miller. Her manager. And Bella's loyal lapdog.
Aria turned slowly, lowering her sunglasses. "Good morning, Tony. You look sweaty. Cardio?"
Tony sputtered. "Don't get smart with me! Do you know how much trouble you caused last night? Bella has been crying all morning! Lucas is furious!"
He stopped in front of her, poking a finger aggressively toward her chest.
"You are suspended, Aria. Indefinitely. Go home and write an apology letter to your sister. Maybe, if you beg, Lucas will let you come back as a background extra."
The lobby watched, holding its breath. This was the dynamic everyone knew: Tony barked, and Aria cowered.
But Aria didn't cower. She looked at Tony's finger, then up at his face.
"Tony," she said calmly. "Get your finger out of my face before I break it."
Tony froze. He blinked, stunned. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. And as for suspension..." Aria laughed softly. "You can't suspend me."
"I am your manager! I own your contract!" Tony yelled, his face turning purple. "I can freeze your schedule for ten years! You will never work in this town again!"
"Actually," a smooth voice interrupted from the elevator bank. "You can't."
Everyone turned.
A tall, sharp-looking man in a grey suit stepped out of the executive elevator. He adjusted his glasses, scanning the room with a cold, professional gaze.
It was the new CEO appointed by the board this morning.
"Mr. Vance!" Tony's attitude shifted instantly from bully to sycophant. He bowed slightly. "I apologize for the disturbance, sir. I was just handling a unruly talent. This is Aria Vale, she's—"
"I know who she is," Mr. Vance said, cutting him off.
He walked past Tony, ignoring him completely. He stopped in front of Aria.
The entire lobby watched in shock as the new, terrifying CEO bowed his head slightly to the disgraced actress.
"Miss Vale," Mr. Vance said respectfully. "Welcome back. We have been waiting for you."
Aria smiled. She glanced at Damien's "influence" at work. He hadn't come himself, but he had clearly sent his dogs to clear the path.
"Thank you, Mr. Vance," Aria said. "I believe there is a matter of my contract?"
"Yes," Mr. Vance said. He turned to Tony, his expression hardening. "Mr. Miller, you are fired."
Tony's jaw hit the floor. "What? Sir! Why? I'm the top manager here! I manage Bella!"
"You were the top manager," Mr. Vance corrected. "But under the new ownership, we are restructuring. Starlight Media no longer requires your services."
He gestured to the security guards. "Escort Mr. Miller out. And send his belongings to the curb."
"You can't do this!" Tony screamed as the guards grabbed his arms. He looked at Aria, his eyes bulging. "You! You did this! You slept with someone, didn't you? Who is your sugar daddy? Aria!!"
Aria watched him get dragged away, kicking and screaming. She put her sunglasses back on.
"Sugar daddy?" she whispered to herself, a smirk playing on her lips. "No, Tony. Just a very possessive husband."
She turned to Mr. Vance. "I need a new office. And a new script. Something... villainous."
Mr. Vance nodded. "The Boss left instructions. You have full access to the script vault. And... he asked me to give you this."
He handed her a sleek, black secure phone.
"He said to keep Clause 9 in mind. If the phone rings, you pick up."
Aria took the phone. It was heavy, expensive, and encrypted.
She sighed. 'Five-minute warning. He really meant it.'
"Fine," Aria said, slipping the phone into her bag. "Show me the scripts. I have an empire to build."