As Evelyn hurried down the stairs, she caught a glimpse of Erica Jones still sitted at the dining table, her face twisted in a silent, ugly fury. The sting of losing the Ferrari to Evelyn was clearly rotting her composure.
"I'm in a rare good mood today, Erica," Evelyn called out, her voice light with a mock sweetness that didn't reach her eyes. "If you still want that car, I might just gift it back to you later!"
Without waiting for a response, she snatched a different set of keys and slipped out of the villa, a small, genuine laugh escaping her lips as she put distance between herself and the man who had tried to ground her.
Evelyn drove toward Gamma Records and its rival, Star Entertainment, the two titans of the Country's entertainment world. She had an interview scheduled with Gamma Records, a branch under Thorn International.
The lobby was filled with women who looked like they had stepped out of a high-fashion magazine. Every candidate had a unique temperament, but Evelyn's presence as she strode in caused more than a few heads to turn.
While waiting, her phone buzzed with a message:
"Good day, Mrs. Thorn. Your red Mercedes Benz and the white Ferrari are ready for pickup at the Star-line 4S Counter. Please bring your ID by 5:00 PM today. Address: No. 50, Dawn side Road."
Evelyn's lips curled into a smirk. Michael had actually gone through with the title transfer for the Ferrari. The day of Erica's total defeat was drawing closer than she thought.
When it was her turn, Evelyn stepped into the audition room. The judges whispered among themselves. She felt the weight of the whispers and channeled that frustration into her performance. She hadn't danced in years, but as the music started, her movements were enchanting, her eyes cool and predatory. It was perfection.
"You can start tomorrow," one judge said, pushing a new script across the table. "Be ready for the first table read."
Evelyn was stunned. Getting a script on day one was unheard of. The rumors about me are going to be vicious, she realized, but she bowed politely and left. Behind her, the judges continued to mutter. "The higher-ups were very clear, she must be made a star at all costs."
Evelyn took a taxi to the Star-line 4S dealership. The staff greeted her like royalty, ushering her into the VIP lounge with fresh juice and refreshments.
Moments later, they led her to two luxury cars that were already wrapped in ribbons. They pulled the covers back, revealing a custom red Mercedes Benz. It was sleek, powerful, and almost too loud for her current mood. People will say I'm just a kept woman, she thought. Then again, isn't that exactly what Michael is trying to do?
Next to it sat the white Ferrari. The limited-edition beauty was a masterpiece. Comments from other customers drifted over: "Who is she? Those two cars alone are worth a fortune."
"I'll take the Mercedes today," Evelyn told the clerk casually. "I forgot the Ferrari's key at home. I'll come back for it when I'm in a better mood."
Evelyn drove the roaring Benz to Thorn International headquarters. She needed her stuffs back, the ones she had dramatically thrown on the table that morning. Tomorrow was her first day on set, and she needed to look the part of a rising star.
The secretaries on the executive floor recognized her immediately and ushered her into Michael's office. He was in a meeting, so Evelyn wandered into his private lounge. The room was spacious, smelling faintly of his expensive cologne.
The door opened, and Michael strode in. He tossed a folder onto his desk and walked toward her. The faint tooth mark on his lip from her morning "parting gift" was still visible on his lips.
Evelyn stared at it, and a chuckle escaped her lips.
"What are you laughing at?" Michael glared at he rin annoyance.
She quickly wiped the smile away from her face and cleared her throat while straightening her dress.
"I need a favor," she said, her face flushing slightly as she met his intense gaze. Michael looked impeccable in his suit, exuding a raw, masculine authority that always made her pulse skip despite her anger.
The man stared at her for some seconds, then walked to the sofa and sat on it, crossing his long legs. "Speak," he commanded, his eyes tracking every movement of the woman who had spent the day becoming the talk of the town.
The morning bravado of throwing her things on the table had vanished, replaced by the awkward reality of needing them back. Evelyn Meyers stood in Michael Thorn's office, feeling the heat in her cheeks.
"I want to buy some things," she said, trying to sound nonchalant despite the absurdity of the situation.
Michael leaned back on the leather sofa, his gaze fixed on her. The two faint, bruised tooth marks on his lip stood out against his pale skin, a silent testament to their morning clash.
"Funny?" he asked, his voice low. He had spent the afternoon in board meetings with those marks, watching his executives struggle to maintain eye contact while he mentally calculated how much of their bonuses he could deduct for their stifled smirks.
"A little," Evelyn admitted, touching her nose.
"You want to buy things?" Michael's eyes trailed over her leisurely. "For the sake of me giving you the Ferrari title, you've decided to be thick-skinned enough to come back for your allowance?"
"Exactly," she replied, her expression turning pitiful and her voice dropping.
Hours later, Evelyn sat in the her Benz, staring at the card in her hand. Her body felt like it had been through a marathon, the "price" Michael extracted for the card was always steep. He had informed her, with that maddeningly smug tone, that the card held the net profits from the Island Mall Complex for the last two months.
It was her own name on the card, but it felt like a heavy weight. I have to make my own millions, she vowed. I can't keep selling myself to my own husband just to go shopping.
She picked up Jade from work at the mall to help her carry some things. "I'm heading to the set tomorrow, Jade! I passed the audition at Gamma Records."
"Congratulations! Your dream of the world stage is finally starting," Jade cheered, though she noticed Evelyn's hesitant expression.
"I got in through Michael's influence," Evelyn whispered. "It feels... cheap." She murmured feeling a little down.
"In this city, everyone uses what they have," Jade countered, squeezing her arm. "You'll prove your talent when the time comes."
When Evelyn returned to the villa with shopping bags, Erica Jones was in the living room, her eyes flicking over the designer logos with undisguised envy.
"Back to spending Michael's money again, I see," Erica remarked, not looking up from her phone.
Evelyn stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Michael is my husband, Erica. I can spend as much as I want. What's pathetic is a 'Saint' like you lurking in someone else's home, acting like the 'mistress' that you are."
Erica's face contorted. She stood up to retaliate just as the front door opened. Michael walked in, loosening his tie.
"Michael, I should just leave!" Erica's voice instantly transformed into a trembling sob. "Evelyn mocks me every day. She calls me vicious, I can't stay where I'm not wanted!"
"Fine! Leave then!" Evelyn snapped. "The door is right there."
Michael looked between the two women. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a set of keys, sliding them across the desk toward Erica. "I bought an apartment in the city center. You're settling at Star Entertainment anyways. Move there for now."
Erica's eyes turned red, but she took the keys. Evelyn, however, was livid. "You've even paved her way with a luxury apartment? She's a superstar; can't she buy her own apartment?"
"It's just an apartment, Evelyn," Michael said, sounding exhausted as he picked up her shopping bags to carry them upstairs for her. "Don't be so bitter."
"Bitter? I am bitter?" She grabbed the bags back from him and snatched the apartment keys off the desk. "If you love providing for her so much, you two stay here. I'll move into the apartment!"
Michael watched, stunned, as Evelyn turned on her heel and stormed out the door, the roar of the Mercedes Benz echoing through the estate seconds later. He sighed, closed his eyes and massages his forehead.
Evelyn reached the luxury high-rise and rode the elevator to the 28th floor. The 200-square-meter apartment was flawless, luxurious, beautiful, and furnished with a state-of-the-art appliances; with a view of the entire skyline.
She threw her bags onto the white sofa, her heart aching. He bought this for her. He was ready to set up a nest for his mistress right in the middle of the city.
"Fine, Michael Thorn," she whispered to the empty, cold room. "You wanted to give Erica a home? Now you've given me a sanctuary from both of you."