Chapter 15
637 Words
Leo’s POV
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The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I spent my whole damn life climbing.
Movie after movie, box office hits, magazine covers—Hollywood’s golden boy. Everything I touched turned to gold.
And yet, here I was. Falling.
It started slow. A few bad scripts, a couple of flop films.
Then Macy.
God, Macy.
The walking disaster in designer heels.
I should’ve known better. Should’ve seen the warning signs—the tantrums, the public fights, the constant leaks to the press. But no, I had to play the devoted boyfriend, the picture-perfect Hollywood couple.
Until I accidentally tweeted her breakup message.
One slip of the thumb.
One f*****g text meant for my manager, blasted to ten million followers.
And just like that, the image crumbled.
Macy went nuclear. Talk show sob stories, podcast tell-alls, veiled threats on i********:. I became the villain of her narrative, the heartless ex who threw her away. And the media ate it up.
The roles dried up.
My name, once synonymous with box office gold, became a liability.
And the paparazzi incident was the final nail in the coffin.
I wanted to blame them, blame the press, blame anything but myself.
But Paul was right.
I needed to get my s**t together.
But if getting my career back meant using Sienna?
That wasn’t an option.
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The Drive
The car was quiet.
Sienna sat in the passenger seat, one leg tucked under the other, arms crossed. Her hair was damp from the late-night drizzle, strands clinging to her cheek. She smelled like vanilla and something warm, something familiar.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter.
I should’ve said no when she asked for a ride.
But here we were.
The city lights flickered past us in a blur, the hum of the tires the only sound between us.
Until she broke it.
“Why did you refuse?”
I frowned, glancing at her. “Refuse what?”
She turned her head toward me, studying me. “I overheard your conversation with Mark.”
My hands tensed on the wheel.
Shit.
I kept my face blank. “You were eavesdropping?”
She scoffed. “Please. You weren’t exactly whispering.”
I exhaled sharply, turning my eyes back to the road. “And?”
“And,” she said, voice quieter, “you could’ve said yes.”
I swallowed.
She meant the fake dating proposal.
The one way ticket back to Hollywood’s good graces.
I clenched my jaw. “I’m not using you, Sienna.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That’s a first.”
I flinched.
She didn’t say it with malice.
She said it like a fact.
And maybe it was.
Maybe, once upon a time, I did use her—as my escape, as my safe place, as the one person who never wanted anything from me but… me.
And I ruined that.
She turned back to the window, voice softer. “It would’ve been easy. Mark’s right—you need damage control.”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “I know.”
Silence.
Then—
“So why not?”
I hesitated.
I could’ve given her a million reasons.
Because Hollywood is a machine, and I’m done being a cog in it.
Because I’m tired of playing a role even when the cameras aren’t rolling.
Because I don’t want to drag you into my mess.
But none of those were the real reason.
So I told her the truth.
“Because it’s you.”
Her breath hitched.
I gripped the wheel harder. “If it were anyone else, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But you?” I shook my head. “I can’t.”
She didn’t say anything.
Didn’t argue.
Just sat there, staring out at the night.
And somehow, that silence said everything
- Writer
