The new Darla.

Darla’s POV

“…But the moment he turned his back,” I said, stepping forward on stage, my voice steady, my heart loud. “I realized I’d been loving a stranger.”

I let my hand drop to my side as I turned to stare at the casting panel. The emotion still sat raw in my chest, but from the look in their eyes, I knew that I had touched a part of them. I had ignited a fire within.

Then one of them nodded slowly, another one scribbled something down. The third one just stared at me like he couldn’t figure out who I was, like I’d pulled something real out of nowhere.

But it wasn’t nowhere.

It was real. It was every ounce of pain Richard and Melanie had caused me… boiled into truth.

“Thank you, Miss Morrison,” the woman in the middle said. “We’ll be in touch.”

I gave a small nod, turned, and walked off the stage. My hands were still trembling a little, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t even pause to second-guess. This time, I knew what I gave them.

And it was enough.

By the time I got home, the house felt bigger than usual, or quieter. Almost empty now that Maria and Sandra were gone.

Good riddance.

I kicked off my heels, walked straight to the fridge, and poured myself a glass of water. Just as I turned to head upstairs, I heard the doorbell ring.

I frowned because I wasn’t expecting anyone. I wanted to be alone. I got to the door and when I opened the door, there she was.

Melanie.

Wearing a light pink top that made her look like innocence itself, a smile that’s stretched too wide, and a tote bag swinging gently on her shoulder. In my past life, I would have thought this smile was real, but now I could see past the mask.

“Heyyy, cousin!” she said, stepping in without waiting for an invite. “I just thought I’d check in since you fired the maids this morning… thought maybe you could use a little help around here.”

I shut the door slowly and leaned against it.

“Help? From you?”

She laughed lightly. “Don’t be silly, Darla. I mean… family helps each other, right?”

I crossed my arms. “Like how you helped me into the arms of your boyfriend?”

Her smile didn’t drop, but her eyes flinched.

“Look,” she said softly, walking toward the kitchen like she owned the place, “I know we’ve had a weird few days, but I wanted to make sure you’re okay. How did your audition go earlier?”

“Went well,” I said, following her. “And no, I don’t need help. I’ve got it all under control.”

She turned and parted her lips like she wanted to say more, but just then my phone buzzed on the counter.

I reached for it, glanced at it, and froze.

CONGRATULATIONS!

You’ve been cast as the lead: Eva Sinclair in “Second Dawn.” Rehearsals start next week. Attached is your invitation to the cast announcement party.

I gasped.

“Holy shit…”

“What?” Melanie asked quickly, walking over.

I stared at the message like if I looked away for a second it might disappear. My hand shook a little as I tapped on the full cast list. My name was bold at the top. Eva Sinclair the main character.

“I got it…” I whispered. Then I said it again, louder, laughing, “I got the lead! Melanie I got the part!”

Her face went stiff for a second and she immediately masked it. But I saw it. That flicker of disbelief. Of disgust.

Then she smiled like she’d rehearsed it. “Oh my God, Darla, that’s amazing!”

Then another buzz came, but this time, it was her phone. She picked it up and checked it. I watched her face. Her smile faltered, just enough to make me certain.

“What did you get?” I asked.

She tilted her phone toward me. “Ensemble role. I mean, it’s still something.”

I bit my lip to hide the grin. “Well… you know what they say—no role is small.”

She didn’t reply.

A digital invitation was attached to both our messages. The cast announcement and celebration party. Red carpet, press, drinks, elite sponsors. The works.

“I guess I’ll see you there,” Melanie said with a short smile.

“You will,” I replied, “but it’ll be hard. I’ll be busy signing autographs.”

She gave a dry laugh and let herself out without another word.

The second the door clicked shut, I let out a breath and flopped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.

I had done it.

I was finally back in control.

Later that night…

The party was everything a girl could want. Cameras flashing, champagne pouring, the hum of people saying my name even when they thought I couldn’t hear them.

“Is that Darla Morrison? The new Eva Sinclair?”

“She’s gorgeous in person.”

“Wasn’t she out of the scene for a while?”

“Well… she’s definitely back now.”

And damn, did it feel good.

Yes… it definitely did.

I wore a fitted black silk backless dress, hugging my every curve, with a slit high enough to demand attention. My heels clicked against the marble floor like I owned it. Melanie came in sometime after me, wearing pale blue and fake confidence.

She stuck close to the director, but I didn’t care. People were talking to me and about me. Other actors asking who my makeup artist was. I was halfway through a glass of champagne when I felt it.

His stare.

He stood near the bar. He was tall, had a sharp jawline and eyes, with eyes like he knew exactly the kind of trouble he was. I had seen him before, he was a rising actor with a reputation of flirting and leaving.

I walked over to where he was slowly, giving him permission to look over me with his lust-filled eyes.

“You’ve been staring,” I said, stopping beside him.

He smirked. “It’s hard to not stare at you.”

“Good,” I said, taking a sip from my glass. “That means I’m doing it right.”

“You’re Darla,” he said. “Eva Sinclair. You were electric on that audition tape.”

“And you…” I let my eyes drag over him slowly. “Make it way too easy to want you.”

He chuckled. “Are you always this direct?”

“No,” I said, setting my glass down. “But I’m not wasting any more time pretending to be soft.”

He raised a brow. “So what are you doing now?”

“Taking what I want.”

I barely gave him time to think. I leaned in close, my voice low. “Take the stairs down to the ground floor,” I said, my eyes never leaving his. “Two doors down the hallway. It’ll be slightly open.”

Then I turned and walked off, knowing he’d follow me.

And he did.

I used my heels to push the door open. The room was dark with red lighting, plush velvet chairs, a piano in the corner, and a couch that was too perfect not to use. I had discovered it when I was looking for the bathroom.

The moment he stepped in, I slammed the door shut behind us.

I pushed him against the wall and kissed him first. Hard. Deep. Like I was in charge… because I was.

He groaned into my mouth as my hand slid under his shirt.

“Shit,” he breathed. “You’re—”

“I know.”

He tried to take control, to grab my waist and flip me, but I pushed him down onto the couch and climbed on top of him.

“I’m not that girl anymore,” I whispered, sliding my fingers into his hair. “Tonight, you follow my lead.”

His eyes went wide, caught between surprise and desire.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I moved on him hard and fast. Every time I rolled my hips, it proved I was in control. Every sound he made felt like a win. And I didn’t stop. I kept going until we were both breathless and ruined.

Afterwards, I arranged my dress properly and stood by the mirror, fixing my hair like nothing happened.

He lay there, looking confused, his lips slightly open.

“You good?” I asked, arching a brow.

“I… yeah,” he said, voice hoarse.

“Good,” I said, grabbing my purse. “Then enjoy your night.”

I walked to the door, but before I could open it, a knock came at the door. Then a soft familiar female voice.

“Darla… are you in there?”