Zack had already glimpsed the ruthless calculation behind her sweet facade from that recording. He didn’t dare refuse and signed the contract.
Instantly, a smile spread across Yolanda’s face. “I’ll be counting on you to look out for Ian from now on,” she said smoothly.
This TV series was a huge project this year. While it was partly designed to push some stars, tens of millions had been sunk into the production.
At this point, the die was cast. No matter how uncomfortable Zack felt, with his weakness exposed, he wasn’t about to rock the boat.
Yolanda and Ian got into her car–a $600,000 Porsche, a wedding gift from Samuel two years
ago.
“Where do you live?” asked Yolanda.
Ian replied, “Willow Lane.”
Yolanda frowned. Willow Lane had no nice parts–just run–down houses, once called a slum. It was close to downtown, but the area was a mess.
Yolanda fell silent. She realized she didn’t know much about her studio’s only talent—or much about Megan’s marriage.
After what felt like forever, she said, “I’ll drive you home. You start filming in three days. I’ll help you get settled at first–find you roles, line up ads. Once your career takes off, Megan will
take over.”
Ian nodded. “Okay.”
The car pulled into Willow Lane and stopped where he lived. She looked at the alley–gloomy even in daylight–and felt a weird, uneasy twist in her gut.
Ian pulled on a mask and a hat and then got out
Yolanda followed him out. “I’m coming with you,” she said tersely,
Ian stood still, his back ramrod straight.
Yolanda pressed, “I need to know you better. You’re my only client right now–I’m pouring all my time into you. If we sign more people later, we’ll probably barely see each other.” She was dead set on building up the studio.
11:33 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 18
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Ian looked down, tugged his mask a little higher, and started walking.
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Yolanda followed behind. Unlike downtown’s busy bustle, the streets here were potholed, with trash heaped in corners.
They stopped at his place. The door decorations were faded, but the area was clean. The lock was old. He pulled out his key and unlocked it.
Inside, there was a tiny yard with a punching bag–covered in dents, like he used it a lot to blow off steam. The house itself was maybe 600 square feet, simple but neat.
Ian took off his hat and mask and headed to the narrow kitchen. He washed the only cup had over and over–even running boiling water over it before finally pouring some water inside.
he
Yolanda stood in the living room, eyeing his tall, good–looking frame, and let out a soft sigh.
She felt like that the second he took off that mask, the entire room came to life. In this rundown space, he stood out like a vibrant bloom–sharp, proud, and cool.
Ian walked out of the kitchen and set the cup of water down in front of Yolanda, who was perched on the narrow couch. “Here,” he said, his eyes casting down.
Yolanda glanced around, fighting a small smile. “No girlfriend right now, Ian?”
Ian shook his head. “Nope.”
“Good. If you do get one, tell me first. Your face will draw fans easy, but more fans mean more rules,” Yolanda said.
Her slender fingers curled around the glass, but she didn’t take a sip. She was here with a purpose. “You live by yourself?” she asked.
“My mom’s in the hospital. She’s sick.”
“Megan says you’ve been keeping the studio afloat these past two years. You must’ve made some good money–so why haven’t you moved to a better place?”
“Hospital bills aren’t cheap,” Ian said, his eyelashes flickering. For once, his obedience had a hint of stubborn defiance.
“What about your dad?” Yolanda pressed.
She didn’t want to be noisy, but as his agent, she had to ask–better to prep him now than let the gossip sites tear him apart later. After all, a talent’s entire life was exposed under the spotlight.
11:33 Wed, Sep 10
Chapter 18
Ian glanced past her at the punching bag outside and whispered, “Dunno.”
“School records? Any skeletons I should know about?” she kept asking.
Ian stayed quiet, his lips pressing into a thin line.
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Yolanda picked up the cup and took a small sip. “When you hit it big, the tabloids will dig up every little thing. I need to plan ahead so we aren’t blindsided.”
Ian swallowed hard, and after a long pause, his voice came out rough. “I was at Beloris University, but something went down. It wasn’t my fault, I swear. I don’t even get it…”
“If it’s not on you, I’ll fix it. Rest up today, and be on set in three days. I’ll rush to line up endorsements for you,” Yolanda smiled. “Call me if anything personal comes up. Ian, I need you to step up a little, okay?”
She then stood, grabbing her bag off the nearby table. A subtle fragrance clung to her—not from perfume–softly filling the cramped room.
She clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We gotta trust each other. If you’re hiding something, tell me later. But do it before you’re famous.”
“Got it.”
Yolanda pulled her hand back, catching a glimpse of a pink flush at the tips of his ears. She frowned, “If you’re not feeling good, tell me too.”
Ian remained silent, simply standing to see her out.
Yolanda drove off, but as she turned out of the alley, she spotted a luxury car pulling in.
The license plate looked familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen it. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw it stop right at Ian’s front door.
A middle–aged guy got out. From a distance, his build looked familiar–like Dylan, the one who rarely came home.
Yolanda had married into the Sinclair family for two years and had barely seen him. But he had constantly showed up at charity events–she’d seen him in the papers plenty of times.
Word was he sponsored hundreds of students, was a shrewd businessman, and even had connections in government circles. That was why Charles steered clear of divorce drama.
But Charles was all smooth surface with a wild streak underneath. He might torch his entire reputation for the right woman. The problem was, the one he’d risk everything for hadn’t come back yet.
Chapter 19
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Chapter 19

Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Part 1: The Discovery of BetrayalYolanda Grant’s marriage was built on patience, sacrifice, and quiet endurance — but that illusion shattered in one night. It was late when she arrived at a dark, empty alley after receiving a mysterious message with an address. At first, she thought it was a misunderstanding. After all, her husband Charles Sinclair — a man of wealth, power, and refined taste — would never lower himself to something so vulgar. But when she saw him holding a young woman in his arms, kissing and touching her like a man possessed, every ounce of denial drained from her. Charles, the proud and disciplined businessman, was cheating — and in a filthy alleyway, no less.Part 2: The Scene of HumiliationFrom the safety of her car, Yolanda watched as the scene unfolded. The woman clinging to Charles was frail, trembling, and emotional, like a flower blooming in the mud. The surroundings — the stained floor, damp walls, and suffocating darkness — mocked everything Charles had always claimed to be. This wasn’t just infidelity; it was degradation. Yolanda’s mind swirled with disbelief. Her husband, who obsessed over class and perfection, had become a man of impulse and dirt. She didn’t confront him or make a scene; she didn’t even cry. Instead, she leaned back in her seat, numb, realizing that her marriage was already over in spirit.Part 3: Two Years of DevotionAs she sat there, flashes of the past flooded her mind. Two years of marriage — two years of her trying to please him in every way. She had known from the start that Charles didn’t love her. On their wedding day, he had made it painfully clear that his heart already belonged to another woman. Still, Yolanda married him out of hope, out of love, out of the foolish belief that devotion could melt even the coldest heart. She gave up her career, her ambitions, and her independence, just to prove she was worthy of him. She cared for him like a nurse for her patient — cooking his meals, planning his wardrobe, and tending to every detail of his life. And in return, she got nothing but distance and silence.Part 4: The Breaking PointNow, watching him entwined with another woman, everything she had built inside her — the patience, the sacrifice, the illusion — collapsed. The man she had once called her husband had become unrecognizable. He had torn off his noble mask and revealed himself as nothing more than a beast driven by desire. Yolanda felt like she’d been slapped, her dignity shattered into pieces. But instead of screaming or crying, she felt an eerie calm. Her pain was too deep to express. All she could think was: This marriage must end.Part 5: Charles’s UneaseWhile Yolanda drove home, Charles suddenly sensed that something was wrong. The headlights of a passing car illuminated his face, and a chill ran down his spine. He didn’t know whose car it was, but unease stirred in his chest. The girl in his arms whimpered for his attention, but his mind was already elsewhere. Straightening his clothes, he pulled away coldly. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said flatly. “The company’s got big projects. I can’t afford divorce rumors right now.” His words revealed not love, but calculation — every move guided by image and control. The girl, blinded by her feelings, agreed softly, claiming she would wait. But to Charles, it was just another temporary indulgence.Part 6: The Return HomeWhen Yolanda returned home, the villa felt colder than ever. She had just come out of the shower when Charles entered the bedroom, carrying his jacket. He looked as immaculate as always — tall, handsome, commanding — but tonight, his arrogance seemed cruel. On his pristine white shirt, Yolanda noticed a faint smear of pink lip gloss. She had never worn lip gloss; she hated its stickiness. That small, shiny mark told her everything she needed to know. As she dried her hair, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain.Part 7: The Cold ConversationCharles glanced at her and asked casually, “When did you get back?”“This afternoon,” she replied.He loosened his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as if nothing had happened. “I was out playing golf tonight,” he added. The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly. Through the reflection in the window, Yolanda saw the dirt on his back — proof that golf wasn’t the only game he’d been playing. With quiet fury, she shot back, “Then I guess you scored plenty of holes. Congrats.”Her sarcasm caught him off guard. For the first time, he frowned, slightly unsettled. He wasn’t used to this tone from her — the woman who once worshiped him now sounded indifferent, almost mocking.Part 8: His Cruel ArroganceInstead of apologizing, Charles smirked and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Are you mad? I told you when we got married that I didn’t love you. If you’re that unhappy, find someone else to cheat with.” His words cut through her like a blade. It wasn’t just betrayal anymore — it was humiliation. He treated her heartbreak as an inconvenience, as if her pain were irrelevant. Inside, Yolanda’s chest felt like it was being strangled with wire, every breath searing. Yet she stayed silent. Her quietness, once a sign of love, now turned into armor.Part 9: The Memory of InnocenceIn that moment, Yolanda’s mind drifted back to when she first met Charles. She was young, freshly adopted into the Grant family, and he was already the picture of perfection — disciplined, confident, untouchable. Back then, she looked at him with admiration and love. To her, he was everything she aspired to be. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that this same man would someday make her feel worthless. All those years of love, of marriage, of giving — they now felt like a cruel joke.Part 10: A New Beginning Hidden in the Word “Fine”Charles chuckled when she finally said, “Fine.” To him, it was just another empty threat, another outburst that would fade with time. He kissed her cheek, confident that her love would keep her shackled to him forever. What he didn’t realize was that this time, “Fine” wasn’t surrender — it was goodbye. Behind her calm eyes, Yolanda had already made her decision. The love that once bound her had turned to ash, and from that ash, something new was forming — strength.Chapter 1 ends with Yolanda’s quiet determination to take back her life. She won’t cry or beg anymore. This time, she’ll walk away — not as a broken wife, but as a woman reborn through betrayal.