I was blacklisted by the entire internet for supposedly being the "other woman" in an A-list movie star’s relationship. The production crew of a dating reality show wanted to watch the world burn, so they invited me to join the show alongside the star and his girlfriend. I didn't want to go, but they simply offered too much money. The whole world expected to watch me fail at seducing him. Instead, a silver Maserati MC20 roared into the frame. The driver, with a wicked smirk and a lazy drawl, said: "Honey, why did you leave for the set without waiting for me?" With that one sentence, the entire live stream crashed. 1 Because I was photographed looking "too close" with my co-star, Austin Hayes, I was labeled as the homewrecker destroying his relationship with his non-celebrity girlfriend. My fans tried to defend me, which only led to more accusations—claiming I was "bullying a commoner." In the heat of the scandal, the producers of the reality show Catch the Spark decided to lean into the chaos. They invited me to be a guest. I wasn’t interested in the drama, but the paycheck they offered had too many zeros to ignore. Austin and his girlfriend, Lila Moore, were the "it" couple of the show. They had a massive following of "shippers." That’s why everyone was so vicious toward me when the rumors broke. But this was a dating show. What was I supposed to do there? Be a mascot? The producers were vague. "Just show up," they said. "We’ll handle the rest." On the first day of filming, the moment I appeared on screen, the comment section exploded. Most of it was pure vitriol. —"WTF? Sienna actually showed up?" —"She has no shame. Dancing right in front of the real girlfriend." —"Cancel the homewrecker!" The few fans brave enough to speak up were instantly buried under a mountain of hate. See? To destroy a female actress, all you have to do is whisper the word "mistress." As I stood there lost in thought, a familiar black SUV pulled up. Austin and Lila stepped out. He carefully shielded her as she climbed down, as if she were a piece of fragile porcelain. The camera crew, clearly looking for a viral moment, cut between the two of them looking deeply in love and me standing alone on the corner like a pathetic loser. The comments peaked: —"The showdown! The showdown!" —"The mistress meets the wife. This is better than the Oscars." —"Austin is so protective! Ugh, Sienna is such trash for trying to ruin this." I couldn't agree more. I also wanted to know what I was doing there. Lila was wearing a simple yellow sundress. She barely had any makeup on—just a bit of tint on her lips. She looked like the "girl next door," pure and innocent. She looked at me as if she had never seen the tabloids. She smiled gently and reached out her hand. "Hi, you’re Sienna, right? I’m Lila." As she reached out, a massive diamond—a total "rock"—flashed under the sun. Every woman loves diamonds. And damn, that thing was blinding. Lila seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly pulled her hand back, looking apologetic. She covered the ring with her other hand, a classic "I’m trying to hide it but I actually want you to see it" move. Message received: He’s mine. The comments caught it too. —"OMG! Was that an engagement ring?!" —"Did Austin propose? Is that a rock or a planet?!" —"LMAO, look at Sienna’s face. She looks so awkward." —"Producers, get her off the screen. She’s an eyesore next to them." Just then, a roar of an engine echoed from the distance. The camera panned away. A silver Maserati MC20 drifted into the shot. The driver rolled down the window just enough to show a hand with well-defined knuckles. His profile was sharp, a pair of dark aviators resting on a high bridge of a nose. Even the staff cleared a path. Lila looked over with curiosity. She had been on the show for several episodes, but she’d never seen a guest arrive with this much swagger. The butterfly doors swung upward. It was effortlessly cool. The driver stepped out, his long legs moving with a lazy grace. The world seemed to go silent. My heart beat in sync with his movements as he took off his sunglasses. The wind caught his dark hair. Even in a tailored suit, he had this air of untamed rebellion. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. A faint, wicked smirk touched his lips as his eyes locked onto me. The camera zoomed in on his face. The chat went dead for three seconds before a nuclear explosion of comments occurred. —"HOLY CRAP! Who is this guy?!" —"Does anyone know him? Is he a new model?" —"I’ve never seen him in Hollywood. Who is he?!" While the internet was losing its mind, the mystery man spoke. He looked straight at me, his voice low and honey-thick. "Honey, why did you leave for the set without waiting for me? You left me all alone in bed." The internet broke. —"Did he... did he just say... HONEY?" —"Am I hallucinating?" —"Is he talking to... Sienna? No way. No freaking way." He didn't wait for the comments to catch up. He walked over, his long strides reaching me in seconds. Lila stood there with her mouth open, looking between the producers and this newcomer. She clearly hadn't been briefed on this. Ignoring the cameras, the man buried his face in the crook of my neck. "I missed you, baby." Me: ??? Internet: ??? —"My eyes are failing or my ears are lying!" —"Is this Sienna’s boyfriend?!" —"I need a background check! Now! Who is this man?!" 2 And just like that, Rowan became the new guest on the show. Watching us standing there with our fingers interlocked, the other guests had... complicated expressions. Rowan’s background was a fortress. If he didn't want you to know, you could dig six feet under and still find nothing. He didn't seem to want to reveal his full identity yet. When the director asked for an introduction, he just smirked. "Just your average trust-fund kid." He held my hand so naturally, like we had been together for a lifetime. I looked down at our joined hands. Faded memories started to clear. I remembered many years ago... Rowan had said to me: "Sienna, I’m coming back for you. Even if you don't wait for me, it doesn't matter. I’ll find you." He actually did it. After the intros, we headed to the rooms to unpack. In the stairwell, Rowan glanced at the cameraman. The poor guy was so intimidated he immediately turned his back to "film the wall." Rowan wrapped an arm around my waist from behind, his chin resting on my head. "Baby, I was gone for a while. Did anyone bully you?" The cameraman turned the lens away, but he forgot to turn off the mic. That one husky, protective sentence sent the live stream into another meltdown. —"CAMERAMAN! I order you to turn around right now!" —"His voice is so hot! The protectiveness!" —"Is this what it feels like to be a VIP member? I want more!" Tears pricked my eyes. I wanted to turn around and tell him how much I missed him, and how much the internet had hurt me. But I held it in. I’d tell him after the cameras were off. I wasn't giving the haters the satisfaction of seeing my private heart. Rowan carried my luggage up. Before we could even settle, the producers sent an envelope with our first task. "Guests, please settle your luggage. Gentlemen, please assemble in the lobby. Ladies, please wait in your rooms." Rowan kissed my forehead. "Be right back." —"Help, why do I think they’re the perfect match?" —"They have so much chemistry. This can't be scripted." —"Don't be naive. Sienna probably hired an actor to wash off the mistress labels." 3 The lobby was filled with racks of women’s clothing. The host explained: "Tonight, we are hosting a gala. The men must choose a complete outfit for their partners. The ladies will wear whatever you pick." The comments were already laughing. —"LMAO, I’m so curious about Austin’s taste." —"I’ve been married for ten years and I still don't let my husband buy me socks." The racks were overwhelming. Arthur, an older actor, went straight for a classic, modest emerald gown for his wife. It was safe and dignified. Austin and a younger idol named Jax were struggling. Austin walked around with a frown, especially when he saw the more "daring" designer dresses. —"Hahaha, Austin looks like a grumpy dad at a mall." —"He looks offended by every sequin!" Finally, Austin went to the casual section. He picked a thick, white cable-knit sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. He paired them with... sneakers. The chat lost it: —"The logic is there, but why did he pick the one with a cartoon sheep on it? It’s so ugly!" —"Lila is an adult woman. Why the sheep sweater?!" —"It’s a gala! Why did he pick casual clothes?" In the interview booth, Austin looked into the camera. "It’s fall now. It’ll be cold tonight. I want Lila to be warm and modest. Those other dresses are too revealing. Lila looks best when she’s covered up." —"Ugh, typical controlling boyfriend vibes." —"He’s literally that guy who gets mad if you show an inch of skin." —"Is Lila actually going to wear a sheep sweater to a gala?" —"Look! Rowan is picking. I wonder what the 'average trust-fund kid' chooses." Rowan walked past the racks everyone else was ignoring—the high-fashion, bold silhouettes. He pulled three dresses and studied them seriously, as if he were analyzing a stock market crash. Finally, he chose a white strapless piece. It was architectural and sharp, with a thigh-high slit and a trail of star-like diamonds at the hem. He even picked out the perfect stilettos. The chat went silent, then roared: —"Taste. Absolute taste." —"I saw that dress on a runway last month. It’s gorgeous but so hard to pull off." The director asked him: "Why this dress? The other men went for 'safe' designs." Rowan looked at the camera, his eyes brightening. "Because Sienna will look like a goddess in this." "She loves to be beautiful, so I want to give her the best. It’s a party. I want her to shine. My job is just to protect her while she burns the room down." The chat shifted. While the other men chose based on their comfort—making sure their women weren't "too exposed"—Rowan chose based on what I would love. He smirked at the lens. "I have to pick the best. If she doesn't look stunning, she won’t be happy. And I hate it when she’s not happy." —"I officially ship them! To hell with the haters!" 4 I was thrilled with the dress. Rowan knew me too well. But when I stepped out of the dressing room, Rowan didn't look happy. He was sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. "Sienna, doesn't your agency handle this crap?" He was looking at the leaked "intimate" photos of me and Austin. I walked over and flipped his phone face down. "Don't look at that. Look at me. Do I look good?" Rowan looked up and his expression softened instantly. "I knew you’d be breathtaking." He pulled me into his lap, burying his face in my waist. His voice was muffled. "I just hate that they talk about you like that." "Sienna, you’re the best person I know." 5 I expected the other men’s choices to be bad, but I didn't realize they’d be this bad. Lila was wearing the sheep sweater—which was at least two sizes too big—and jeans that swallowed her legs. She looked like a middle-schooler at a pajama party. Jax’s girlfriend, Chloe, a high-fashion model, was forced into a strawberry-print sundress. It looked ridiculous. I stood at the door, almost afraid to walk in. Lila looked like she was on the verge of tears. I felt bad for her—Austin really had zero sense of style. When I walked in, the chat went from "LMAO" to "HOLY SH—." —"Goddess. Absolute goddess." —"Rowan is a visionary. This outfit is legendary." —"My eyes are being blessed." The host announced: "Gentlemen, please invite your partners to the dance floor." The lights dimmed. Rowan bowed slightly, extending his hand. "Sienna, may I have this dance?" The Rowan in front of me overlapped with the teenage boy in my memory who had asked for my first dance with that same fiery gaze. I nodded and slid into his arms. The other couples looked miserable in their outfits, and Lila eventually excused herself, claiming she didn't feel well. The world narrowed down to just Rowan and me. He spun me around, our noses almost touching. —"KISS HER! KISS HER! I’M BEGGING YOU!" As if hearing the internet’s prayer, he tilted his head and kissed me deeply. —"AHAHHAHAA! MY SHIP IS SAILING!" —"Kill me now, this is too sweet." Suddenly, a new hashtag exploded on Twitter: #SiennaSugarDaddy A tabloid leaked photos of me from a few years ago. I was leaning affectionately against a middle-aged man in a suit. Internet sleuths quickly identified him: The Chairman of the Sterling Group, one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country. —"God, are these real?" —"So she does have a benefactor." —"No wonder she got that lead role last year. She’s been a kept woman this whole time." —"Mistress habits die hard. First a billionaire, now a movie star." The staff signaled for me to go backstage. The comments were turning toxic again. Rowan was called away too. He looked furious. When I saw the photo, I... blanked out for a second. Rowan walked in, saw the photo, and his brow instantly relaxed. I had thought it was a deepfake or a clever angle. But the photo was real. I even had the original on my phone. The man in the photo was the Chairman of Sterling Group. His name is Robert Sterling. Rowan’s father. My uncle-in-law. The photo was cropped. In the original, Rowan was sitting right on the other side of me. We were at Robert’s birthday party. Rowan looked at the screen, his face cold. He grabbed his phone and called his PR department. "Give me the login for the official Sterling Group Instagram." He logged in and posted the full, uncropped photo with a caption: "Family dinner." The reversal was the fastest in the history of internet scandals. —"Wait, what? That’s Rowan’s DAD?!" —"I’m dying. Tabloids tried to frame a girl for dating her own father-in-law." —"Wait... Rowan’s dad is the Chairman? So Rowan is..." Rowan’s true identity was out. —"ROWAN IS THE STERLING HEIR?!" —"He said he was an 'average trust-fund kid.' Dude is literally royalty." —"Who could 'hire' a Sterling to play a boyfriend? This is real love." —"I’m eating my words. They taste like crow, but they’re delicious." Rowan didn't care about the show anymore. He sat in the staff area and registered his own personal account. His first post: "Hi everyone, I’m Rowan Sterling. Sienna and I have been together for years. I joined this show to surprise her, not realizing she was being bullied by fake rumors. Whether it was the photos with Austin or my father, it’s all absurd. We will be taking legal action against every account that defamed her." The internet crashed. Again. #RowanSterlingHeir #SiennaAndRowan #TheSterlingProtector The other guests looked at us with entirely different eyes now. 6 Back in the bedroom that night, I looked at Rowan. "Rowan, now that everyone knows... should I quit acting?" I knew he didn't care, but the "Old Money" world usually looked down on Hollywood. My own father had threatened to disown me when I started. (I didn't care, I was already the black sheep.) "Sienna," Rowan said, his voice serious. "I have enough power now to make sure you never have to worry about what 'they' think. You shine on screen. I watch every one of your movies on repeat. I’ll back your career until the day you decide you’re done. I love you, and I love the version of you that follows her dreams." My eyes watered. No one had ever chosen me this firmly. I grew up in a wealthy family, too, but compared to the Sterlings, we were new money. My parents were obsessed with the "right" image. After my mom passed away, my dad remarried and had a new "perfect" family. I was the leftover child. Then I met Rowan. He was the high school rebel. The guy who treated the school rules like a suggestion. Everyone was terrified of him, or obsessed with him. I thought he was just another bored rich kid. But he chased me for a year and a half. He took me to movies, watched me play volleyball, taught me how to ride a horse, and made me laugh until I forgot I was the "unwanted" daughter. The day of his father’s birthday, he took me to meet his whole family. He announced to the room: "This is my girlfriend, Sienna. Isn't she beautiful? You guys are all jealous, I know." His family was actually lovely. Later, I found out the "deal" he made with his dad to let us be together was that he had to go abroad to study business and prove he could run the company. "Sienna, wait for me," he had said. "And if you don't, it’s okay. I’ll still find you." I waited. Shortly after he left, an Oscar-winning director found me. He said my mom had helped him years ago, and he wanted to pay it back. He offered me a lead role. I became a star overnight. I never went back to my father’s house. For years, we were a world apart. Sometimes I’d be filming until 3 AM, just as he was waking up. We lived in the gaps of our time zones. I missed him so much it hurt. 7 Now he was right here. Rowan pulled me into his arms. "Go to sleep, baby." "We’re never being apart again," I whispered. "Never." 8 The next morning, the director—ever the opportunist—changed the rules of the show to capitalize on our fame. We were sent to a remote countryside village to live in "farmhouses." Rowan and I were the first to arrive. We picked a small cottage by a stream. The owners were an elderly couple who treated us with amazing warmth. The comments were peaceful for once: —"I’m just here to watch the nepo-heir experience a farm." —"He looks so confused by the chickens." We were tasked with feeding the chickens. Rowan looked at the birds like they were a new species of alien. He crouched down, staring at a particularly scruffy chicken with a bald tail. He pulled out his phone and opened a "Pet Translator" app. He spoke into the phone: "Hey, scruffy. What happened to your tail?" The phone translated: "Cluck cluck cluck!" (Translation: None of your business!) I stared at him. "Why do you have that app? Does it actually work?" The chicken tilted its head and let out a sharp cry. Translator app: "Eat my dust, human." The chat exploded: —"LMAO! Rowan is a comedy genius!" —"The chicken really said 'None of your business!'" The old couple asked me if Rowan liked the chicken. I hesitated. "I think so..." The chat: —"I have a bad feeling about this. Look at the grandma’s face." —"They’re gonna cook the chicken, aren't they?" Sure enough, for lunch, the scruffy chicken was served on a platter. Rowan looked like he was about to cry. He took a photo of the dish and whispered, "Rest in peace, buddy." Then he took a bite. "Damn... he’s delicious." The chat: —"RIP Scruffy. You were tasty." —"Rowan is so chaotic, I love it."
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