Chapter 142

Derek Langley lounged in his oversized leather chair at Lowell Entertainment's general manager office. Tiffany Merouin nestled against him, allowing his rough hands to roam freely over her body.

"Mr. Langley, that Melanie keeps strutting around the office like she owns the place. It's driving me crazy..."

She dragged out the last syllable with saccharine sweetness.

Derek closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of having a beautiful woman in his arms.

He'd once been a mere slaughterhouse assistant. His current position came solely through his cousin's influence as a top executive at headquarters.

With his average looks and short stature, women wouldn't have glanced at him twice before.

Since gaining power, many had thrown themselves at him, but none matched Tiffany's cunning charm.

"Patience, darling." He pinched her chin. "Keeping her around means you get to watch her suffer daily."

Though uneducated, he wasn't stupid.

Melanie controlled several crucial company projects. Losing her now would tank their performance metrics.

That would jeopardize not just him, but his cousin who'd secured his promotion.

Playtime aside, he understood these stakes perfectly.

Tiffany's eyes gleamed with sudden comprehension.

"Then..." She whispered in his ear, "I heard she's negotiating a major period drama IP. Once it's secured..."

"Your people get it." Derek answered absently, his hand already slipping beneath her collar.

The office door burst open.

Melanie Vance and Scarlett Ashcroft stood frozen in the doorway, faces draining of color.

"You..." Melanie's voice shook with fury. "This is a workplace, not a hotel!"

Derek slowly withdrew his hand, his gaze lingering on Scarlett's exquisite features.

"Agent Vance," he said coldly, "Is this how you teach your artists to barge into executives' offices unannounced?"

Melanie scoffed. "My apologies. I didn't expect to witness such a spectacle in broad daylight."

Derek slammed the desk as he stood. "Watch your tone! Do you want to keep your job or not?"

"Actually, no."

Melanie's contemptuous glance swept over Tiffany's disheveled state.

"Those who climb the casting couch always fall eventually. As for you, Derek—nepotism and embezzlement will ruin this company."

For three years, artists' complaints had snowballed toward headquarters, only to be suppressed.

She knew—once contracts expired, Lowell Entertainment would become an empty shell.

Derek's face darkened dangerously.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Melanie? You dare judge me?"

"I'm here to notify you," Melanie straightened her spine, "I'm resigning. Heading to HR now."

Derek's lips twisted into a vicious smile. "Resign? I'll make sure you never work in this industry again."