Chapter 164

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair's penthouse, illuminating the scattered scripts on her coffee table. She sighed, running a hand through her tousled auburn hair as she reread the same line for the fifth time.

Why can't I focus today?

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. A message from Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant, flashed on the screen:

"Nathan Blackwood just arrived at the studio. He's early."

Evelyn's pulse quickened. She hadn't seen Nathan since their explosive argument last week—the one that had left her questioning everything.

Swallowing hard, she typed back:

"Tell him I'll be there in twenty."

She tossed her phone onto the couch and hurried to her closet, her fingers skimming over designer dresses before settling on a sleek black jumpsuit—powerful, yet understated. If she was going to face him again, she needed every advantage.

The studio lot was buzzing when Evelyn arrived, the air thick with the scent of fresh coffee and anticipation. Crew members darted between sets, their voices blending into a familiar hum.

And then she saw him.

Nathan stood near the craft services table, his broad shoulders accentuated by a tailored navy suit. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his hands through it—a habit she knew well.

He turned, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers.

For a heartbeat, the world stilled.

Then, Victoria Hayes—Nathan’s sharp-tongued secretary—stepped between them, her crimson lips curling into a smirk.

"Evelyn," she purred. "How lovely of you to finally join us."

Evelyn forced a smile, though her nails dug into her palms. "Victoria. Always a pleasure."

Nathan’s jaw tightened, but before he could speak, Preston Whitmore, the director, clapped his hands.

"Places, everyone! We're running behind."

As the crew scrambled into position, Nathan leaned in, his breath warm against Evelyn’s ear.

"We need to talk."

The words sent a shiver down her spine.

But before she could respond, Donovan Sharpe, the producer, called out, "Evelyn, Nathan—we’re starting with your scene. Now."

Evelyn exhaled sharply.

Whatever Nathan wanted to say would have to wait.

For now, they had a performance to deliver.

And she was determined to make it unforgettable.

Sixty million! You're absolutely ruthless, aren't you? Not only were you planning to pay off the fifty-million gambling debt, but you were also trying to squeeze an extra ten million out of her to use as your own stake, weren’t you?

At the time, Evelyn had skimmed through the information quickly, missing this crucial detail. The more she learned about this despicable man, the more disgusted she became.

Nathan was equally revolted, but he couldn’t vent his frustration openly. Instead, he kept ranting in their private group chat, spreading his anger among the others.

Sixty million was no small sum—it was nearly enough to wipe out all of Vivienne’s savings. Yet, Vivienne had no choice but to pay.

At first, Isabelle and the others had assumed it was just explicit photos—something that could be handled discreetly within the country.

But now, they were hearing there might be videos—secretly recorded ones—that had driven Vivienne to the brink of despair, pushing her to take her own life. One could only imagine how vile those videos must have been.

If such footage were leaked, domestic internet authorities might suppress it quickly, but not before it circulated for a short while.

If it had just been that, perhaps Vivienne wouldn’t have completely broken down so suddenly.

But the blackmailer had been vicious in his threats.

He had also threatened to sell the videos to foreign websites, ensuring they would become a scandal that would haunt her forever.

At her core, Vivienne was deeply traditional. The thought of her private moments being distributed as pornography was more than she could bear.

A woman with a stronger will might have dared to call the police and face it head-on, but Vivienne hadn’t had that courage at the time. She hadn’t wanted to confront it—she just wanted it to disappear. Unable to track down Gabriel for answers, she had instinctively turned to her family, only to find herself betrayed.

She was utterly alone, with no one to help her. In that moment, despair had crushed her will to live.

And now, here she was, questioning the very man who had caused her so much pain, completely unaware that it had all been a scheme—a cruel ploy to extort money from her.

Faced with the interrogation, Gabriel looked deeply troubled. "I swear, I never thought it would go this far. I never meant for any of this to happen. Vivienne, I—"

"You worthless scum!" Before he could finish, Claire didn’t hesitate. She lunged forward and struck him twice across the face with such force that he stumbled and fell to the ground.

Blood trickled from the corner of Gabriel’s mouth as he stared up at his mother in shock. Even at her angriest, she had never hit him like this before.

"How could I have raised such a fool? Get on your knees and beg Vivienne for forgiveness!" Claire knew the gravity of the situation—this wasn’t just some petty scandal. It was something that could ruin a life. How could a girl as brilliant and kind as Vivienne endure such humiliation?

The weight of the truth pressed down on them all. The damage had been done, and now, they had to face the consequences.

"Oh God, this is catastrophic! What in the world are we supposed to do now?" Adriana immediately burst into tears, her wails piercing the tense air.

Gabriel’s eyes darted quickly before he spoke. "So... Vivienne, this explains why you’ve been asking us for money. But even so, it’s too late. We can’t possibly gather that much cash now. At this point, wouldn’t it be better to just... let it go? You’re an actress, after all. Actors take on all kinds of roles, right? Think of it as a bold career move. Besides, if this scandal blows up, it might actually boost your fame. Haven’t you heard of celebrities overseas who’ve skyrocketed to stardom because of leaked tapes?"

"You seem awfully knowledgeable about this," Isabelle Laurent sneered. "Why don’t you volunteer to star in one yourself? I’d be happy to make you famous."

"How could I—" Gabriel choked on his words, immediately falling silent under Vivienne’s murderous glare. "It’s not like we have any other choice, do we?"

Meanwhile, Gabriel, forced to kneel on the floor, desperately pleaded, "Vivienne, you can’t let those videos get out. You know I don’t have that kind of money. Otherwise, I’d help you solve this problem myself. Please, think of another way—maybe borrow from someone?"

As he spoke, his gaze flickered toward Julian and Evelyn.

In that moment, both of them felt like prey marked by a predator.

Are you out of your mind? Do I look like I have that kind of money? You dare target me? You must have a death wish!

Hearing Evelyn’s furious thoughts, Julian scoffed internally, amused by Gabriel’s sheer audacity.

Before either of them could respond, Claire Harrison spoke up. "So, it turns out my son is the one responsible for this mess. If you’re serious about handling it, I’ll cover the expenses."

Yet, Claire didn’t suggest calling the police. No one knew what would happen if they involved the authorities. The culprit might be caught, but what if the videos were leaked before then?

As outsiders, they couldn’t gamble with the futures of those involved. Still, since this was her son’s doing, she was determined to take responsibility.

Everyone turned to Claire in surprise.

Gabriel froze for a long moment before finally lowering his head, as if resigned to this solution.

What a stellar son you are! First, you swindle your ex-girlfriend, and now you’re swindling your own mother. As long as someone pays your debts, it doesn’t matter who gets hurt, does it?

Julian smirked inwardly after catching Evelyn’s scathing thoughts. They said gamblers had no conscience—willing to betray even their own flesh and blood. Now, he was witnessing it firsthand.

If there had been another way, Gabriel would’ve happily drained his mother dry, squeezing every last penny from her. Julian suspected the so-called "sixty million" was just the maximum amount Vivienne could afford—a number Gabriel had pulled out of thin air.

But now that the truth was out, they couldn’t let this spiral further. The question was—how?

Finisher

Julian was at a complete loss, his mind racing as he turned to the group chat for possible solutions. The moment he opened it, chaos greeted him—a storm of curses and insults that revealed the darkest sides of human nature.

Among the torrent of messages, only Nathan responded with clarity: If this is all a setup, then the evidence must still exist. The videos and photos are likely still in his possession. Vivienne will probably call the police. To stop Gabriel from doing anything reckless, we need to secure those files first.

Julian froze for a second before scrambling to search for Gabriel’s phone. But then a chilling thought struck him—what if Gabriel had backups stored elsewhere?

At that moment, Evelyn’s voice echoed in his mind.

Call it luck or misfortune, but at least those compromising videos Vivienne feared haven’t been leaked yet. They’re all still on Gabriel’s phone. He just manipulated the footage to frame someone else and sent snippets to those haters to intimidate Vivienne. If we arrest Gabriel now, everything can be contained. But if we don’t… that’s the real problem. Should we follow Claire’s advice? Should we build an airtight blackmail case before making a move? We can’t risk him getting desperate and selling those videos—he’s absolutely capable of it. Or… should we just destroy the phone? But then we’d lose all evidence to prosecute him.

Nathan’s words, paired with Evelyn’s reasoning, suddenly clicked in Julian’s mind. He realized with certainty that all the incriminating material was still on Gabriel’s device.

Nathan wasn’t suggesting they destroy the evidence—he meant they had to secure it. Because without it, they’d have no way to bring this scoundrel to justice.

To prevent Gabriel from acting out of desperation, they needed to take control of his phone first, then let the authorities handle the rest. But how could they do that without making it obvious they already knew the truth?

Evelyn was still deep in thought when Vivienne’s voice cut through the tension.

"No need to overthink it. I’ve made my decision—I’m calling the police."

Julian’s stomach dropped. Nathan had predicted this. Wouldn’t this just push Gabriel into a corner?

Isabelle Laurent nodded slowly. "Honestly, reporting this is the right move. If he’s blackmailing you once, he’ll do it again. But… Vivienne, are you really prepared for the consequences? This could ruin your career."

Vivienne’s eyes shimmered with quiet resolve, though a shadow of sorrow lingered in them. "I’m sorry, Isabelle. I can’t sign the contract with you right now."

Who knew what the future held? But one thing was certain—she refused to surrender to fear. She wouldn’t let vile men like Gabriel dictate her life. She was ready to face whatever storm came next.

"No!" Gabriel suddenly lurched to his feet, panic twisting his features. "My mother is offering to help you! Why won’t you just accept it? If those videos get out—"

"Relax," Vivienne cut in coolly. "The angles in those clips don’t even show me clearly." The moment the words left her lips, she frowned slightly, as if realizing something didn’t add up.

"That’s not what I care about!" Gabriel snapped, desperation sharpening his voice. "I care about you. After everything we’ve been through, how can you just—"

The tension in the room was palpable as Gabriel Ramirez's grip on his phone tightened. His usually composed features were now strained with barely concealed frustration. "Vivienne, think about this rationally," he urged, his voice low but edged with desperation. "If they realize you're willing to go this far—even to the point of risking your life—they'll back down. This will be the last time. Consider it buying your peace."

Vivienne Monroe, however, stood her ground, her dark eyes burning with a resolve that sent a chill down his spine. "I've already stared death in the face once," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I'm not afraid of them. I want justice, Gabriel. I want them to pay for what they did to me."

Gabriel's patience finally snapped. A dangerous glint flickered in his gaze, one that Vivienne had never seen before. "Then we wait," he countered sharply. "There might still be a way to turn this around without destroying everything."

But Vivienne had made up her mind. With a slow, deliberate motion, she reached for her own phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. "No more waiting," she said softly. "I'm calling the police."

Gabriel's breath hitched. The game had just changed.