FLASHBACK
The night was heavy with silence, the kind that only deep hours bring. Ryan sat in his study, a dim desk lamp the only light in the room, casting long shadows across the scattered papers and files in front of him, and he was still thinking about the conversation he had with Kai.
Ryan tapped his pen against the desk. The words should have been enough. Finalized. Simple. Clear. But something about the way Kai had said it offhand, almost dismissive, lingered like an itch Ryan couldn't scratch.
If Kai really had finalized the manuscript, why hadn't he mentioned it when we finished auditions? Why hadn't he told me more? Kai was meticulous, always thorough when it came to work. He would have dissected the script, ranted about its flaws, praised its rare sparks, and thrown out half a dozen sharp opinions. But this time? Nothing.
Ryan frowned, his instincts prickling. He had worked with Kai long enough to know when something was off. And this...this was screaming at him.
He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking. No, something's not right. His gaze drifted to the stack of papers on his desk, audition names from the first and second rounds. He hadn't gone through them in weeks. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe Kai had really finalized it and just didn't feel like explaining himself. But Ryan's gut told him otherwise.
And Ryan trusted his gut. Always.
He clicked open the folder of audition results from the second audition. Names scrolled down the screen in tidy lines, each contestant, each pen name, carefully documented. He scanned the list, his eyes sharp. But the name wasn't there.
His jaw tightened. He scrolled again, slower this time, just to be sure. Still nothing. Strange…
He rubbed his temple. If Kai had finalized the manuscript in the second round, the author's name should have been on the list. Every shortlisted entry was here. Yet the pen name I saw on the manuscript on the Kai office table....Inkheart was nowhere to be found.
Ryan's brows knitted. "Where is it… If it wasn't even in this round?"
The suspicion grew sharper, digging into him. There was only one way to settle it.
He switched tabs and opened the files from the first auditions. Dozens of names. Too many. He narrowed his search, scrolling faster. There were many rounds in the first auditions. he went straight to the final list of the first auditions. His eyes were darting until they stopped. There.
Penname: Inkheart
Real Name: Alina Carter
Ryan froze. The pen in his hand slipped and clattered to the floor, but he didn't even notice. "Alina Carter?" he whispered, his voice thin in the quiet room.
His pulse spiked. His mind spun. Her? He leaned forward, staring at the screen as though it would change if he blinked enough times. But no. It was there, clear as day. Inkheart. Alina Carter.
The girl who came to his office, the girl who constantly bickered with Kai. Ryan exhaled, a shaky laugh breaking from his chest. "No wonder…" It all made sense now.
The memory came back suddenly, sharp and vivid. That night, weeks ago, when he had asked Kai ''Now that you've found it, shall we move forward?''
Kai hadn't smiled. Hadn't lit up with excitement the way Ryan thought he would. Instead, he had leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes dark with something Ryan couldn't name. "It's not the right time."
Ryan had blinked, stunned. "Not the right time? But we've been waiting years for this. You've been waiting. You finally have a script that's filled with what you've been missing: emotion, heart, soul. Isn't this what you wanted?"
But Kai had only stared at the manuscript, his voice dropping into that dangerous, unreadable calm. "It doesn't matter. Having it doesn't mean I can use it. Not yet."
At the time, Ryan had been baffled. Confused. Frustrated. He had wanted to push, but something in Kai's tone had stopped him. It was like Kai wasn't just talking about a script. It was like he was talking about something or someone much deeper. Now Ryan understood why.
But his discovery raised another question: if Alina was Inkheart, why hadn't Kai said anything? And if he selected the script in the first audition, then why didn't he say so at that time? And why did he do the second audition? If he already finalized it in the first audition? And why did he say that ''having it doesn't mean I can use it?''. It's confusing me more and more, and I'm going around in circles in the tunnel.
Ryan's curiosity sharpened into determination. He needed answers. He dug deeper into the files, comparing notes between rounds. In the second audition results, her name was absent. But in the first audition, she had reached the final round. That much was clear.
He leaned closer. "So why didn't she meet Kai?"
The remark column for the final round contestants was blank beside her name. Nothing written. Not even a rejection note. Just… nothing. That was unusual. Every candidate had some remark, even if it was as simple as "not suitable." But hers was empty.
Ryan narrowed his eyes. So she never made it inside the room. His fingers tapped the desk in restless rhythm. Something about that didn't sit right. There was only one way to confirm.
He pulled up the archived CCTV recordings from that day. It took time for the files to be buried under layers of security, but Ryan knew his way around the system. He scrolled through until he found the final round footage.
The grainy images flickered on the screen. The waiting hall. The narrow corridor outside the audition room. The small bench where contestants sat before being called in. Ryan's heart thudded. He hit play.
One by one, he watched contestants walk in, wait nervously, and then disappear through the door to meet Kai. And then… There she was. Alina Carter.
Ryan leaned forward, breath caught. Even in the grainy footage, she was unmistakable. Sitting on the bench, clutching her folder to her chest, her shoulders stiff with nerves. She waited. Minutes passed. Contestants came and went. But she never got up. She never entered the room.
Ryan frowned. Fast-forward. Still, she sat there. Patient. Silent. Waiting for her turn. But she never went inside; instead, she left her manuscript on the chair and left from there.
Ryan's chest tightened. "She never went inside," he muttered. "She never even got the chance, or she never wanted that chance?''
He replayed it again, needing to be sure. Same result. She had been there. She had been so close. But something had gone wrong, and she'd walked away unseen, unheard. No remarks. No meeting. No recognition.
And Kai… Kai knew she was there. And he took that manuscript from the chair.
Ryan sat back, rubbing his face with both hands. The pieces clattered together in his mind, chaotic but undeniable.
Kai hadn't lied. He had finalized the script. But he hadn't revealed the author because… because it was her. Because it was Alina. Because he had no right over the script.
And Kai Arden, the man who never hesitated to cut, to dismiss, to shred, was holding back. Waiting. Protecting.
Ryan's lips twisted into a grim smile. "So that's it, huh?"
He thought of their endless bickering, their little wars, the way Kai pretended indifference. He thought of the way Kai had said, 'having it doesn't mean I can use it?''
Ryan shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "You're in deep, Kai."
Ryan Bennett had always been a man of plans. Smooth, clever, with a way of seeing five steps ahead when everyone else was still on their first. People called it instinct, but Ryan knew it was more than that; it was an obsession. And tonight, sitting in his office with files spread out before him, he wasn't obsessing over a business deal or an actor's contract. He was obsessing over two people: Kai Arden and Alina Carter.
Kai was the most stubborn man he had ever known. Talented beyond measure, yes, but chained to his own walls so thick no heartfelt plea seemed to reach him anymore.
And Alina… the girl who once dared to hand Kai a script only to be torn down with words. She had left. And yet, her script had stayed with Kai. Not just stayed, it had burned into him. Ryan had seen the way Kai looked at those pages. Like he wanted them. Like he needed them. But when asked why he hadn't reached out, Kai had only said: Having it doesn't mean I can use it?''
Ryan knew what that meant. He doesn't want to use that against her will. So Ryan did what Ryan always did: he made a plan.
The house came first. Kai wanted a place, but he had unlimited conditions along with it. Ryan had found it a modest, warm house tucked between streets where the city's chaos couldn't reach. A house that came with two things Kai hadn't asked for: a granny, the landlord whose questions don't end, and a roommate who just so happened to be Alina Carter.
"Perfect house," Ryan had said casually, sliding the papers across Kai's desk. "Quiet neighborhood, no noisy neighbors, just the peace you wanted."
Kai skimmed, uninterested, trusting. "And the roommate?"
Ryan's face didn't flinch. Years of practice had trained his lies into smooth, convincing smiles. " She keeps to herself. Won't bother you."
It wasn't a lie. Not exactly. But it wasn't the truth either. Because the "she'' was Alina, the same girl Ryan believed could unlock the part of Kai that had been buried for too long.
Ryan's reasoning was simple, even if it was risky. Kai could pretend in interviews, hide behind roles, dismiss emotions as weaknesses, but Ryan had seen through him. He had watched him cook meals, wash dishes with mechanical care, keep his space spotless as though order could cover chaos. He was good, kind, thoughtful, but he just refused to show it.
And Alina? She needed to see that side. She thought Kai Arden was a monster. A rude, arrogant man who trampled over dreams. But Ryan knew the truth: Kai cooked better than half the chefs in the city, respected people more than they knew, and carried the weight of everyone else's silence on his shoulders.
So if Alina lived with him, saw the late nights he spent cooking, the mornings he quietly cleaned, the discipline with which he moved through life, maybe she would see the man Ryan saw. Maybe she would stop hating him. Maybe she would forgive.
And if that happened… if her heart softened… then the script could finally breathe. Then Kai would stop hiding behind excuses, and the two of them could create the masterpiece Ryan had been waiting for.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He almost laughed at himself. Who else but Ryan Bennett would go this far? Who else would manipulate living arrangements just to fix what two stubborn people refused to fix on their own?
But he didn't feel guilty. He felt… hopeful. He could already imagine it. Alina walks into the kitchen to find Kai cooking. Her surprise. His quiet explanation. Slowly, she would notice the little things: the way he kept her coffee mug ready in the mornings, the way he left her notes when she forgot things, the way he, without ever admitting it, watched out for her.
And Kai.... Ryan smiled faintly. Kai would deny it all. He would make excuses, say it was nothing, pretend it didn't matter. But Ryan knew him too well. Kai Arden didn't cook for just anyone. He didn't care for just anyone.
Alina would change. Kai would change. And when that happened, when the air between them shifted from hate to something else, Ryan would finally put the script in Kai's hands. Not as a torment, not as a ghost, but as a truth. The right time.
That night, as Ryan shut his files and closed the lights in his office, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
The board was set. The pieces were moving. And whether Kai or Alina realized it yet or not, Ryan Bennett had just made the first move in a game that would change both their lives.