CHAPTER FOUR
1559 Words
Six months had transformed Erica into something the world could not ignore.
She had grown—rapidly, undeniably, almost unbelievably. Her name moved through the city like a whisper that refused to fade—on lips, on screens, in conversations she would never hear. Every film she touched turned to brilliance, every role she played lingered long after the credits rolled. Fame had come swiftly, almost too swiftly, wrapping her in luxury, admiration, and the quiet satisfaction of proving everyone wrong.
Her management was proud.
Even her parents, who once doubted her choices, had begun to soften, their tone shifting with every success she recorded.
And yet…
Somewhere beneath it all, the excitement didn’t last the way she thought it would.
That morning, it began with a dull ache.
A migraine, sharp and persistent, pulsing at her temples as though something inside her was trying to claw its way out. Erica stirred in her bed, pressing her fingers against the sides of her head, eyes squeezed shut.
“Oh God…” she whispered, her voice thin with exhaustion.
Her body felt heavy, worn from weeks—months—of nonstop filming. Sleep has become a luxury lately—long hours on set, endless shoots, constant pressure. It was starting to show.
“Martha…” she called, her voice barely carrying across the room.
Within seconds, the door opened and Martha hurried in, her expression filled with concern. “Good morning, Miss Erica. Are you okay?”
Erica let out a slow breath, her eyes still shut.
“Not really… I have a terrible migraine. Could you get me something for it? Maybe aspirin… and water.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Martha left quickly, her footsteps fading into the quiet.
The room felt too still after she left.
Too quiet.
Erica shifted slightly, trying to steady the throbbing in her head, when her phone buzzed beside her. She ignored it, her patience too thin to deal with anything else. A few seconds later, it buzzed again.
And again.
Annoyance flickered across her face.
“Who is disturbing me this early…” she muttered under her breath.
Martha returned just then, placing the water and medication carefully beside her.
“Here you go, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” Erica murmured, already reaching for the pill.
She swallowed it without hesitation hoping for a relief as she lifted the glass to her lips.
Her phone buzzed.
This time, she glanced at the screen.
Unknown number.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she unlocked it, still holding the glass in her other hand.
The moment the message opened—
Everything stopped.
Her fingers loosened.
The glass slipped from her hand and shattered against the floor, water spreading across the tiles like a silent warning.
“Miss Erica!” Martha rushed forward, alarmed. “Are you okay?”
But Erica didn’t respond.
She couldn’t.
Her eyes were locked on the screen, her body frozen as the color drained from her face.
Martha quickly began cleaning the mess, glancing at her repeatedly, but when it became clear Erica wasn’t responding, she quietly excused herself, leaving her alone with whatever had just broken her.
The moment the door clicked shut, Erica collapsed.
Tears came suddenly, violently—ripping through her like something long buried had been dragged back to life.
“After all these months…” she choked, her voice trembling. “They still found a way back to me.”
Her hands trembled as she picked up the phone again.
The video.
She didn’t need to watch it to know.
She remembered.
Every second of it.
The one mistake. The one night she had buried, prayed would never resurface.
Her chest tightened painfully as she scrolled to the next message.
If you don’t want this getting to the public… comply.
Her heart pounded louder.
The final message felt like a knife.
Forty percent of your earnings. And I become your on-screen partner. Non-negotiable.
Erica let out a broken laugh, disbelief mixing with anger.
“How petty can they be…” she whispered.
But deep down, she already knew.
Kenny.
And Anna.
An hour later, she was seated in her management office, her face still pale, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
“What?!” Peter’s voice rang out sharply, his disbelief evident. “Erica, this is serious. Very serious.”
She sat across from him, her eyes red, fingers tightly clasped together. “I know,” she said, her voice breaking. “It wasn’t intentional. He just—he came out of nowhere Peter. He ran into the road, I—” her voice broke. He was drunk, I didn’t even see him clearly… I panicked.”
Peter ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “This cannot get to the media. Do you understand what this will do to you? Your career—everything you’ve built—it could be gone overnight.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Set up a meeting,” he said quickly. “We’ll negotiate. Maybe we can settle this quietly.”
Erica shook her head slowly.
“There’s no need.”
Peter stopped pacing. “What do you mean?”
“I know where to find them.”
“Them?” His brows furrowed.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Kenny didn’t do this alone. Anna is involved.”
Peter exhaled sharply. “Of course she is… This just got messier.”
Standing in front of her old apartment later that day, Erica felt something shift inside her.
The apartment looked the same.
Painfully the same.
Erica stood at the door for a moment longer than necessary, her hand hovering before she finally pushed it open.
Memories rushed at her instantly—laughter, late nights, shared dreams… all of it now poisoned.
And then she saw him.
Kenny.
Leaning lazily against the couch, like he had always belonged there.
“Well, well,” he drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If it isn’t the superstar herself.”
Erica said nothing, her expression cold.
He chuckled, “You still don’t know how to knock,” he continued mockingly. “Lucky you, though… you didn’t walk in on anything entertaining this time.”
His laugh was low, deliberate—meant to provoke.
And it did.
But Erica held herself together.
Footsteps echoed from the stairs.
Anna.
She appeared moments later, her presence as sharp as ever, a cruel smile spreading across her face.
“Oh, look who finally decided to show up,” she sneered, walking over and casually settling onto Kenny’s lap, her arms looping around his neck. “Took you long enough.”
Erica’s expression didn’t change, but her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Kenny didn’t hesitate—his hands sliding around Anna, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against her neck.
“Missed you,” he murmured loudly enough for Erica to hear.
Anna giggled, leaning into him. “I know.”
The display was intentional.
Calculated.
Cruel.
Erica cleared her throat sharply.
“Enough.”
They paused, but only slightly.
“Oh,” Anna said with fake innocence, “Were we being rude? We got… distracted.”
Erica’s patience snapped.
“What do you want from me?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the room.
They laughed.
What do we want?” Kenny repeated, amused. “Don’t make it sound so harsh. We just want what’s… fair.”
“Fair?” Erica scoffed. “I owe you nothing.”
“You owe us everything,” Anna cut in smoothly. “Or have you forgotten what we have?”
Silence fell.
Erica’s chest tightened.
“I’m only here because of that video. State your price and end this.”
Kenny leaned forward slightly, his grin widening.
“Oh, the video?” he said lightly. “You mean the one where you killed a man?”
The words hit hard.
Even if she knew the truth, hearing it said like that made her stomach twist.
“Forty percent,” he continued casually. “And I become your on-screen partner. Six months. Minimum.”
Erica stared at him in disbelief.
“You’re insane.”
He shrugged.
“Maybe. But I’m also your only option.”
She turned to Anna, desperation slipping through her anger.
“Are you really okay with this? This is ridiculous.”
Anna tilted her head, completely unfazed.
“Relax, Erica. It’s not like he wants you,” she said coldly. “It’s just business. We need the fame. You should understand this better than anyone.”
The betrayal stung more than she expected.
Erica felt it—deep, sharp, suffocating.
“You have one week,” Kenny added, his tone dropping. “After that… the world gets to see everything.”
Silence fell.
Her fists clenched.
She turned without another word and walked out, her steps quick, unsteady.
The moment she was outside, the mask broke.
“Bunch of leeches…” she whispered, her voice shaking.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as panic began to settle in.
What was she supposed to do?
Fight them—and risk everything?
Or give in—and lose herself completely?
She closed her eyes briefly, tears slipping through despite her effort to hold them back.
“Oh God…” she murmured.
“What do I do now?”
- Writer
