"Clara."
Clara Summers looked up from her phone at the man who had just entered the hotel lobby and gave him a bright, charming smile. "Elliott. As always— punctual to a tee. Come in, come in. We have a lot to get through tonight."
Without giving the man a chance to answer, she slipped her arm through his and almost pulled him toward the private suite at the back. Her heels clicked quickly against the polished floor, betraying a hint of her own nerves.
In truth, she had been worried he might not show up at all. Elliott Ross was becoming harder and harder to manage with every passing week, his patience thinning, his suspicions sharpening.
He wasn't a fool, not by any stretch. She knew he had already guessed at least part of the company's intentions, though she prayed he hadn't pieced everything together yet. Still, there was no turning back.
She had her orders, and she had no choice but to follow through. In the end, she reminded herself, she was just an employee like him—caught in the machine, unable to fight it.
Clara risked a quick sideways glance at him as they walked. He was handsome, dangerously so, with that polished kind of beauty that lit up a room the moment he entered it. His expression, however, remained calm, unreadable, and that calmness always unnerved her. She could never guess what he was thinking.
Forcing a smile, she told herself she only had to get through tonight. Just tonight. After that, it would be over.
Soon, what the higher-ups wanted would be accomplished, and she could resign her post as his agent and be the agent to the top actor that Starlink wanted to promote.. The thought brought her a fleeting sense of relief. The resources that they were willing to invest in him were... She could already imagine the commission she would be making.
And yet… it also stung. She couldn't help but feel pity for him, a man with his talent and presence, about to be cast aside like he was nothing. But pity was useless here. What could anyone do? In this industry, beauty and skill weren't enough-not without the shield of a powerful family or a ruthless backer.
And Elliott Ross had no such backing.
He was an A-lister, yes, with millions of devoted fans and a career that had taken him to the very top. But fame was fickle, fragile as glass. Once the scandal broke, once the story was fed to the right mouths, it would all come crashing down. The fan clubs, the magazine covers, the box office draws they would vanish in days, maybe even hours.
Clara's smile tightened as they reached the private doors. Tonight was the turning point, and she hated being the one to walk him into it. But orders were orders, and in this world, survival meant obedience.
Just before they entered, she looked up at him, patted his arm and gave him a kind smile," Elliott. Today's people are really important. Just... bear with everything okay? Think of it as acting out a scene."
She watched as his eyes narrowed and pressed a pill into his hand," Here. Take this. It will help you relax and get through it."
Elliott stared at the small tablet, his jaw tightening, his fury mounting with each word that came out of Clara's mouth. An ecstasy pill to dull his senses. He didn't take it. Not now. Not ever. He stuffed it into his pocket instead, his fingers brushing the cool metal of the bottle cap. He knew that young boys were forced into this.
That was the rule of the entertainment industry. The hyenas did not differentiate between men and women, using both to satisfy their lusts. But he had stayed away from it even as a youngster and knew how to navigate it even as a teenager. If she thought he would use it now, she was a fool.
He'd already guessed that Starlink wanted to deal with him, but he'd been holding onto the hope that things would not come to this. He stared at Clara. He had hoped that she would not be the one to try and push him into the abyss. It was why he had come tonight. To give her one final chance. But now, it seemed like a waste. She was just interested in her own profits.
Fine, he would see what had been prepared for him tonight before he cut off all ties.
The doors opened. A loud cheer hit him first- catcalls, whistles, playful laughter that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He froze at the sight. He was the only man in the room, and the multitude of women all had their eyes on him, some leaning forward, some laughing, some nudging each other in delight. It was clearly a set up for him to play the entertainment.. And from the 'toys' at the far end of the room, he knew exactly what kind of entertainment they wanted from him.
His instinct was to turn and leave. He was no prostitute.
The set-up was degrading, humiliating, and beneath him. He made a step toward the door.
Clara's arm tightened around his, pulling him back sharply. Her voice was low and urgent. "You dare not leave. Not now. You would offend an important person. This is her bachelorette party, and she specially requested you."
His eyes flicked to her, anger mounting, but he said nothing. He would not give her the satisfaction.
A woman suddenly broke through the crowd, swaying provocatively. She threw herself against his arm, rubbing close. Elliott felt a surge of disgust, his body recoiling inwardly while his face stayed perfectly neutral. Every muscle in him tensed.
Clara nudged him forward toward the bride-to-be. Whispering, she said, "Miss Nisa is an important investor. She specially requested your presence. Please… make her happy. Its just a performance."
The bride-to-be raised a glass. Clara smiled and gestured. "On his behalf-let's toast."
Elliott's jaw tightened. He lifted the glass, the liquid cold against his fingers, the room watching, waiting for him to perform.