Perfect Marriage Revenge

4.

CHAPTER 4: FROM PILLAR TO POST

Linda’s eyes locked onto Marcus, her voice firm. “I want to know where they’re taking my brother.” Marcus shook his head, his expression unyielding. “I’m afraid that’s not your concern, Mrs. Russell. Mr. Russell was very clear about keeping you here.”

Through the open door, Linda could see the security feed on a monitor in the hallway. She watched in horror as the men shoved Liam into a waiting black SUV in the underground garage. Her mind racing, she demanded, “Where are they taking him?”

Marcus released her arm, straightening his tie. “That’s not for me to disclose, Mrs. Russell. I suggest you focus on calming down.” As he turned to leave, Linda’s phone buzzed. With shaking hands, she pulled it from her pocket, reading the new message: “Involving family in our private matters is unwise, Linda. Don’t make me take further action. – Nathan”.

***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~

Linda Thorne stepped out of her Uber, squinting against the bright California sun. The sleek glass façade of her agent’s Beverly Hills office loomed before her, a stark contrast to the cloudy Chicago skies she’d left behind. She adjusted her oversized sunglasses, hoping they’d hide the dark circles under her eyes from the red-eye flight.

As she pushed through the revolving doors, the blast of air conditioning raised goosebumps on her arms. The reception area was a hive of activity – phones ringing, assistants scurrying about with coffee and scripts. Linda approached the front desk, forcing a smile.

“Hi, I’m here to see Mark Levinson,” she said to the perky blonde receptionist. “Of course, Ms. Thorne” the girl chirped, tapping away at her computer. “He’s running a few minutes behind. Please have a seat in the waiting area.”

Linda nodded, turning towards the plush seating area. As she moved, her gaze swept across the wall of headshots – the agency’s wall of fame. She froze, her heart skipping a beat. Where her photo had once held pride of place, there was now just an empty space.

A sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. “What’s going on?” she muttered under her breath, moving closer to inspect the wall.

“Linda?” a familiar voice called out. She turned to see Mark Levinson, her agent of ten years, standing in the doorway to his office. “Come on in.”

She followed him into the expansive corner office, decorated with movie posters and industry awards. Mark settled behind his desk, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Mark,” Linda began, leaning forward. “I need to know what’s going on with ‘Midnight in Manhattan.’ The studio’s been dodging my calls.”

Mark’s usually jovial face was serious. He sighed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “That’s actually why I wanted to see you in person, Linda. There’s no easy way to say this, but… the film’s been shelved.”

Linda felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “Shelved? What do you mean, shelved? We were three weeks away from the premiere!”

“I know, I know,” Mark held up his hands placatingly. “Believe me, I’ve been fighting this tooth and nail. But the studio’s claiming ‘unforeseen circumstances’ and ‘scheduling conflicts.’ They’re postponing the premiere indefinitely.”

“That’s bullshit!” Linda exploded, jumping to her feet. “We finished filming months ago. All the post-production work is done. What ‘scheduling conflicts’ could possibly justify shelving a completed film?”

Mark shook his head, his expression grim. “I wish I had answers for you, Linda. But every time I push, I hit a wall. It’s not just Paramount, either. I’ve been shopping around your next project, and… well, let’s just say the response has been unusually cold.”

Linda sank back into her chair, her mind reeling. “Cold? Mark, I’m coming off three box office hits in a row. My last film was nominated for a Golden Globe, for Christ’s sake! How can the response be ‘cold’?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Mark spread his hands helplessly. “It’s like someone flipped a switch. Studios that were fighting over you last month are suddenly passing without even reading the script. It’s unprecedented.”

A chill ran down Linda’s spine as a terrifying thought occurred to her. “Mark, do you think Nathan could be behind this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her agent, Mark, hesitated before responding. “I don’t want to speculate, Linda, but the timing is certainly suspicious, given your recent marital situation.”

Linda leaned back in her chair, feeling the walls closing in around her. “He’s really doing this, isn’t he? He’s trying to destroy my career.”

Mark leaned forward, his voice low and urgent. “Linda, I don’t know what’s going on in your personal life, and to be honest, I don’t want to know. But whatever it is, you need to fix it. Fast. Because right now, your entire career is hanging by a thread.”

Linda nodded numbly, her mind already racing with possibilities. “I understand. Thanks for being straight with me, Mark.”

As she stood to leave, Mark called out, “Linda? For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the wall. It wasn’t my call.”

Linda nodded tightly, not trusting herself to speak. She left the office, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the polished floor. In the elevator, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes against the tears threatening to fall.

The underground parking garage was cool and dim, a welcome respite from the harsh sunlight and harsher realities above. Linda fumbled in her purse for her car keys, her hands shaking.

“Linda?” a deep voice called out, echoing in the cavernous space.

She whirled around, her heart pounding. A tall, distinguished man with salt-and-pepper hair was approaching, a tentative smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’m Carl Rodriguez. We met at the Cannes Film Festival last year?”

Recognition dawned. “Of course, Mr. Rodriguez. The producer of ‘Panic and Passion.’ What are you doing here?”

His smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. “I was hoping to run into you, actually. I’ve been hearing some disturbing rumors about your situation. Is there somewhere we could talk privately?”

Linda hesitated, her instincts warring with her desperation for answers. Finally, she nodded. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner. We can talk there.”

Ten minutes later, they were seated in a quiet corner of an artisanal coffee shop, steaming lattes in front of them. Carl leaned in, his voice low.

“Linda, I’m going to be blunt. Something very strange is happening in the industry, and it all seems to center around you.”

She took a sip of her latte, buying time to compose herself. “What do you mean, exactly?”

Carl glanced around, then pulled out a sleek laptop from his messenger bag. “I’ve been doing some digging. What I’ve found… well, it’s pretty shocking.”

He opened the computer, turning it so Linda could see the screen. “Take a look at this.”

Linda leaned forward, her eyes widening as she scanned the documents. “These are acquisition reports. Studio buyouts, distribution deals… but I don’t understand. What does this have to do with me?”

Carl’s finger traced a line of text. “Look at the parent company behind all these acquisitions. Hilton Entertainment.”

The blood drained from Linda’s face. “Hilton Entertainment? But that’s…”

“Your husband’s company,” Carl finished grimly. “Or rather, one of its many subsidiaries. Nathan Russell has been systematically acquiring control over major studios and distribution channels for the past year. All through shell companies and silent partnerships.”

Linda felt the room spinning. She gripped the edge of the table, struggling to process this information.

“But why?” she whispered. “Nathan’s never shown any interest in the entertainment industry before.”

Carl’s eyes were sympathetic. “I think we both know the answer to that, Linda. This isn’t about business. It’s about control. Your control, specifically.”

The realization hit her like a freight train. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “He owns my entire career. Every studio, every production company… he can blacklist me with a single phone call.”

“I’m afraid it’s even worse than that,” Carl said softly. “With this level of control, he can effectively erase you from the industry. No more roles, no more premieres, no more red carpets. It’s as if…”

“As if I never existed,” Linda finished, her voice hollow.

They sat in silence for a moment, the bustling café a stark contrast to the devastation Linda felt inside. Finally, she looked up at Carl, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked. “Why risk getting involved?”

Carl leaned back, a sad smile on his face. “Because I believe in talent, Linda. And you’re one of the most talented actresses of your generation. What’s happening to you… it’s not right. It’s not just your career at stake here. It’s your freedom.”

Linda nodded, her mind racing with the implications of everything she’d learned. “Thank you,

Carl. I… I need some time to think about all this.”