Chapter 4

Alina was the undisputed star, surrounded by adoration.

Elaine assumed Alina wouldn't even notice her.

She was mistaken; Alina's hostility was blatant and deliberate.

As Elaine slipped into a couture gown, Alina's assistant approached.

The assistant stumbled, seemingly by accident, and a decorative pin tore a jagged rip in the delicate fabric of Elaine's skirt.

Alina covered her mouth, her tone devoid of remorse. "So sorry, Miss Willis. That dress won't do now. There's a spare over there that suits you better."

It was a dull, outdated dress, clashing with the shoot's glamorous theme.

Outmatched, Elaine swallowed her pride to avoid trouble and changed into the plain outfit.

She hoped her concession would bring peace, unaware that Alina's targeting had only begun.

As a staff member prepared to adorn Elaine with a dazzling jewelry set, Alina interjected sharply, "That set's too bold for Miss Willis. It doesn't suit her. Switch it out."

The replacement was a pair of barely noticeable stud earrings and a thin, pitiful chain necklace.

Ivy's face paled with anger. "Elaine's the ambassador for this jewelry brand! Aren't you worried about upsetting them?"

Alina smirked, unfazed. "Are they? Let them take it up with Dylan Andrews. I doubt they'll complain."

Ivy opened her mouth to argue, but Elaine gently squeezed her wrist.

"It's just a group shoot. Let it go," she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

The shoot finally began.

The photographer directed Elaine to a prominent spot, but Alina pointed to the far corner, her tone firm. "Elaine, go there. You're so tall, you'll block others if you stand up front."

Everyone in the industry knew Alina was Dylan's cherished love.

The photographer had objections but stayed silent.

Elaine lifted her skirt and moved to the edge.

Alina spoke again. "Elaine, are you a bit too heavy? You're throwing off the whole frame. Step back a little more."

Elaine sighed.

She knew one word from Alina could prompt Dylan to dismiss women like her without hesitation.

Yet Alina, proud and ambitious, always declared she wouldn't date until she won some international acting award.

Year after year, she kept Dylan on a string.

She told the media they were just friends.

But when Dylan had other women, she grew displeased.

What was the point?

It was like gods clashing while mortals suffered.

Suppressing her humiliation, Elaine completed the shoot. Just as she exhaled in relief, a cup of scalding coffee splashed across her.

The brown liquid stained her chest, sticky and humiliating.

"Oh no!" Alina exclaimed. "The floor's so slippery, I lost my grip. You're not burned, are you?"

The searing pain hit, and Elaine clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.

She saw the triumphant glint in Alina's eyes, and rage surged within her.

She wanted to grab a hot coffee and throw it back.

But then, a commotion stirred at the studio entrance.

The staff fell silent, their gazes turning toward the door.

Dylan had arrived.

He wore a impeccably tailored dark suit, his presence commanding as he strode in, surrounded by the crew.

His indifferent gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Elaine's stained dress before settling on Alina.

Alina hurried to him, naturally looping her arm through his, her voice soft. "Dylan, you're finally here! The floor's so slippery, I nearly fell and spilled coffee on Miss Willis by accident..."

Dylan let her hold his arm, but his eyes shifted back to Elaine, their depths unreadable.