Chapter 4: The Queen Doesn’t Beg
449 Words
#Mila DeservesBetter was trending.
Talk shows buzzed. Social media boiled. Commentators debated who was the real victim—Mila, the “angelic rising star,” or Chloe Reed, the “fallen diva.”
Chloe watched it all from her hospital bed, her legs crossed like a queen in exile.
Rachel barged in, breathless. “Chloe! Mila’s live on air. She’s crying. She just said you ‘threatened to ruin her career’ and called you… emotionally unstable.”
Chloe tilted her head. “Did she at least get my good side while lying?”
“You need to respond, Chloe. Say something—defend yourself!”
Chloe smiled coldly. “Darling, queens don’t explain. They remind people why they ruled.”
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That evening, Chloe called for a press conference—right from the hospital.
Cameras flashed as she appeared in a sleek white silk gown, bandage on her forehead, eyes burning with unbothered fire.
“I won’t waste time denying anything,” she began, voice clear. “Yes, I make enemies. Yes, I’m hard to work with. But let’s be honest—Mila Lane should thank me. She wouldn’t be here without riding my name.”
Gasps. Whispers. The internet went into chaos.
Then Chloe dropped the real bomb:
“I’ve found something much more interesting than acting lately.” She held up a photo—Ethan’s blurry hospital ID tag.
“I’m officially taking a break from the industry… to pursue love.”
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Rachel screamed in the dressing room after.
“You declared war on the entire industry, and for what? Some doctor who hates the sight of you?”
Chloe was calm. Dangerous. Focused.
“He doesn’t hate me,” she said, adjusting her lipstick. “He’s just never met a woman who doesn’t play nice.”
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Meanwhile, Ethan was drowning in attention.
Journalists swarmed his hospital. Fans tried sneaking into the ICU. One nurse fainted near his station just to get his attention.
Ethan cornered Chloe in her room that night.
“You turned my life into a circus.”
“And what a lovely circus it is,” she said sweetly.
“I’m not interested in you, Chloe.”
She leaned closer, smile like sin. “Then why are you here every time I blink?”
He exhaled, jaw tight. “I’m here because I’m your doctor. That’s it.”
“Good,” she whispered, brushing his collar. “Then cure me. But be careful, Dr. Walker. This patient… bites.”
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Outside the room, Mila's manager stood watching with a smile of his own.
“She wants a war?” he said into his phone. “Fine. Let’s give her one.”
- Writer
