1 My agent handed me the invitation—a christening, for Lilia Reed’s daughter. My heart gave a little tremor, but I kept my voice steady. “Send a gift for me. Two thousand bucks should be fine.” That night, the news that the industry’s golden couple had a new baby shot to the top of the trending topics. Even Lilia, who notoriously shied away from the public eye, went live to celebrate. A fan asked her to compare the feeling of winning her first award with becoming a mother for the first time. She smiled, reaching for the gleaming trophy on the shelf behind her. Her hand slipped. The award tumbled from the shelf, shattering on the floor. And from the broken base, a small, platinum ring—hidden for three years—rolled out across the polished hardwood. She froze. Then, holding her breath, she knelt and carefully pulled a small, folded piece of paper from the wreckage of the trophy’s base. She unfolded it. The camera zoomed in, and my handwriting filled the screen. “I’ve taken care of everything. Marry me.” I never thought the joy I’d failed to even speak aloud would be revealed to the world in such a ridiculous, public spectacle three years later. The live chat exploded. [OMG, that is the most romantic thing I have EVER seen! Are Marcus and Lilia just living in a rom-com 24/7?] [Uh, you’re missing the point. That’s not what this is. If I remember right, she was still with Leo Vance when she won that award…] [Wait, so you’re telling me LEO was about to propose right before they broke up?! He never said a word, even when their split got so nasty… my heart can’t take this.] … On screen, Lilia remained frozen for a long, silent moment. It wasn't until her husband, Marcus Ewing, called from the other room— “Honey, the baby won’t stop crying, can you come help?”—that she seemed to wake from her trance. She scrambled to her feet, stumbled toward the camera, and abruptly ended the live stream. The internet, however, was far from finished. A flood of comments washed over my social media, demanding to know if it was true. My old fan pages, dedicated to the tragic romance of Leo and Lilia, roared back to life. Clips of our sweetest moments from old reality shows were edited together and pushed to the top of the trending hashtags. But whether it was true or not… what did it matter anymore? There’s nothing more painful than the bitter taste of expired sugar. When I first started dating Lilia, I was already an Emmy-winning actor at the top of my game. She was a nobody, a bit player hustling for auditions. I saw her talent, and I was willing to pull every string I had in the industry to help her. The day she was nominated for her first Phoenix Award, I finalized the last details for our wedding. I begged the award show organizers to let me have her trophy for just an hour before the ceremony. I carefully pried open its base and, with a heart hammering against my ribs, tucked the ring and the note inside. I could already picture the look of pure shock and joy on her face when she discovered it. But that night, I waited until the early hours of the morning, only for her to come home drunk, leaning on Marcus Ewing’s arm. It was the first time she had ever brought another man to our home. My world swung violently between euphoric anticipation and crushing disappointment. Rage and betrayal clawed at my chest, and my voice trembled when I asked her what the hell was going on. She just rubbed her temples, her voice thick with exhaustion. “Whatever you say, Leo.” A pause. “Let’s just end this.” … I didn’t reply to any of the comments, just kept my focus on the script for my upcoming shoot. Later, as I turned off the light to sleep, my phone chimed. A message from her. My heart gave that same, stupid little tremor. My fingertip trembled as I opened the notification. [Are you awake?] [Were you… trying to propose to me?] It was the first message she’d sent me in three years. The last one, still sitting right above it, read: [Can you please just stop bothering me?] Funny. Who was bothering whom now? The buzz around me and Lilia grew louder, forcing Marcus to go live himself. On camera, he flashed a sunny, confident smile. 2 “So, about that note,” he began. “That was me. Sorry to keep you all guessing for so long. It’s just a little inside joke between my wife and me.” He beamed. “Lilia loves me, and I love her. We’re very happy.” The comments poured in. [I knew it! No wonder she paid millions to break her old contracts just to be with him!] [That wedding was legendary! My OTP forever!] [Wait… am I the only one who thinks that doesn’t look like his handwriting at all?] … The flood of supportive comments quickly buried the dissenting one. Marcus smoothed his hair. “And I have some more good news for you all. My paternity leave is officially over. I’m back! My new movie starts shooting tomorrow.” I paused. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. The next day, when I arrived on set, that dread was confirmed. Marcus was there, laughing and shaking hands with the crew. Lilia stood silently behind him. Good for them. The handsome star and his beautiful wife. A perfect match. I found an empty corner to sit in. A friend texted, asking how the first day back was going. It hit me then. I’d been out of the game for three years. After Lilia left, I was shattered. Work was impossible. I became a man possessed, haunting the cafes and bars she used to frequent, praying for a glimpse of her. I tortured myself with excuses—maybe he was just giving her a ride home, maybe I’d misunderstood. The bridal shop called to say my custom tuxedo was ready. The hotel we’d booked six months in advance notified me our date was approaching. The wedding planner sent message after message, asking if the event was still on. I was frantic. Then, one night, as I stood shivering in the biting wind, I saw her. She was walking hand-in-hand with Marcus. She looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw me. Ignoring the flash of annoyance on her face, I rushed forward. The weeks of pain and confusion overflowed, and my eyes were already red before I could speak. “Izzy, don’t do this. Please. Everything is ready, all that’s left…” The impatience in her eyes was a physical blow. “Leo, just stop.” She tightened her grip on Marcus’s hand. “I’m… in love with Marcus now.” I stared at her, disbelief choking me. A phantom hand clenched around my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. The last words of my proposal—is you—died in my throat. After that, we began a long, ugly war of words. I leaked the story of her affair to the tabloids, but seeing the public turn on her brought me no joy. I punished myself, scrolling through their social media night after night, the poison of betrayal and jealousy eating me alive. Soon, Marcus joined the fight. While I was busy venting my rage online, convinced I was the righteous, wronged party, I didn't see what they were doing behind the scenes. They were getting their revenge, too. An avalanche of cancelled contracts, recast roles, and vicious online rumors buried me. The financial penalties were astronomical. I fell into a deep depression. And after three long, gray years of therapy, I emerged as someone new. Someone covered in scars. My friend, Alex, always told me things would get better. He encouraged me to try again, to fight my way back. But after three years away, I discovered with a fresh wave of despair that Hollywood had no memory of me. There was no place left. This new role was a favor Alex had called in. It was a lifeline. Even if it was just a supporting part. I raised my phone and texted him back. 3 “It’s going fine. I’m going to do my best.” He replied instantly. “If you’re not happy, just tell me. You can walk away from this. We don’t need it.” A weak smile touched my lips. Three years had ground all my pride to dust. I wasn’t the untouchable Leo Vance anymore. I had no cards left to play. I put my phone down just as the director called my name. “Leo! You’re up. Get ready.” I scrambled to my feet and met Lilia’s gaze from across the set. For a split second, as our eyes locked, my heart rippled. The air grew thick with a sudden, heavy silence. Marcus was the first to speak, his voice dripping with condescension. “Well, well, if it isn’t the great Leo Vance! And what are you playing, the third male lead?” He smirked at the director. “Casting a former Emmy winner as a supporting character? Bold move, Mark.” The director, Mark, suddenly looked terrified, as if he’d just remembered something crucial. He rushed to apologize. “He’s just… a friend of a friend called in a favor. Mr. Ewing, if his presence makes you uncomfortable, I’ll have him thrown out right now!” I watched the director’s pathetic fawning and lowered my eyes. Marcus snorted with laughter. “What’s he going to do? He’s just some has-been. I could crush him with my little finger.” He turned to Lilia. “What do you think, honey?” Lilia just raised an eyebrow. “He’s a nobody. It doesn’t matter.” Marcus wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand roaming freely as he whispered something in her ear. A blush crept up her neck, and she playfully tapped his shoulder. “Stop it, you. Wait until we get home…” I watched their intimate display, and felt… nothing. I didn’t care anymore. Marcus shot me a dismissive glance and waved me over like a dog. “I brought artisanal gift baskets for the whole crew. Go on, Leo, grab one. I doubt you see stuff like this much anymore.” I didn’t move. I didn’t let him get to me. In the sterile, quiet rooms of the hospital, I had learned to control my emotions. I had taken my medication before coming to set. I ignored him and walked straight to my mark. After a brief chat with the cinematographer, I slipped into character. I started acting when I was fifteen. By twenty, I was a household name. Acting was etched into my bones. With just a little prompting, the muscle memory took over, and the performance flowed out of me, smooth and natural. When I finished my monologue, it was a long moment before the director finally yelled, “Cut.” He mumbled to his assistant, just loud enough for me to hear, “He nailed that entire speech in one take? The kid’s still got it.” During the break, I hid in a stairwell and lit a cigarette, my hand trembling. How could I even describe this feeling?
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "393642", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel