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After a long silence, Dylan shifted his gaze to the shoot's director, his tone flat. "What kind of operation is this? No carpet? If Miss Russell had fallen, who'd take responsibility?"
The director nodded and bowed, promising to lay down the softest, safest carpet for Alina next time.
Elaine, drenched in coffee, stood forgotten on the sidelines.
Dylan didn't spare her another glance. Instead, he draped an arm around Alina's shoulder, his voice gentle. "Done shooting? Let's grab dinner."
Elaine watched them leave arm in arm, her heart steeped in bitter, scalding coffee.
She took a deep breath, forcing back tears.
She should have known long ago that Dylan had no heart for her.
When Alina was abroad, Elaine could at least keep him entertained.
Now that Alina was back, there was no room for her at his side.
Thankfully, she was clearheaded enough to have planned her escape.
Even if Dylan discarded her, she wouldn't end up a stray dog.
She changed out of the ill-fitting gown, returned to her apartment, and took a shower before collapsing into bed, hoping sleep would blot out all thoughts of Dylan.
But sleep eluded her. Knocking pounded at her door, relentless as a drumbeat.
Unable to bear it, she threw off the covers, stomped to the door, and yanked it open, snapping, "What's with the banging? You nuts?"
Her throat caught when she met Dylan's impassive eyes. "Mr... Mr. Andrews..."
His face was stony. "Why didn't you answer my messages?"
"I was... asleep..."
Dylan pushed past her, scanning her cluttered little apartment with a frown. "You live in this dump? Where's all the money I gave you?"
She'd saved it all.
She was terrified of being broke again.
She could never forget that gray sky at eighteen, nor the menacing eyes of debt collectors.
She wanted piles of money, enough to banish all insecurity.
Besides, she was leaving soon. What did it matter where she lived?
She couldn't tell Dylan that.
He still seemed interested in her. If she admitted she was leaving, he'd never allow it.
She'd have to act first and explain later.
She tossed out an excuse. "I'm an actress. I need to film. Where I live doesn't matter."
"Finally growing a career brain?" Dylan scoffed. "If you're serious about acting, I'll get you a professional management team and some decent scripts. Stop wasting time with those low-rate directors."
Elaine knew this was the prelude to Dylan cutting her loose.
He was generous, always ensuring a soft landing when parting ways.
He might not be a good lover, but he was a magnanimous benefactor.
Too bad his offer came too late-she'd already carved her own path.
Still, she smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Andrews."
Sunny, now awake, bounded over to nuzzle Dylan.
He dodged with a grimace and said coldly, "I'll transfer the Riverbay house to your name. You can live in this rat hole, but Sunny deserves better."
Elaine's eyes curved with a grin as she thanked him repeatedly.
In her mind, she was already calculating how much the house could fetch if sold, and whether it'd cover a similar place in Eldoria.
Dylan watched her smile, a strange stir in his chest.
He reached out, pulling her slim waist close, his hot breath grazing her ear. "Today at the studio, I was cold to you... You're not upset?"