CHAPTER 5

Vivian’s POV

“You ruined this robe,” I said, holding it up so the damage was clear. The fabric was torn at the sleeve, and dark stains of dried blood spread across the front. “This belongs to the hotel. It’s not just damaged—it’s completely unusable.”

The blonde woman in front of me barely reacted. Her badge read CASEY – WARDROBE. She looked tired, like this wasn’t the first complaint she had heard today.

Casey let out a small sigh. “We’re filming. Things get rough sometimes,” she said casually. “Just file a report. The production team will cover the cost.”

I was the one responsible for every robe, every towel, every item they borrowed from the hotel.

I didn’t even want to be here but Maria, my supervisor, had insisted I take charge of the production’s laundry and wardrobe requests. I had tried to refuse but she didn’t listen.

“Wait, isn’t that Vivian Stark?”

The sound of that voice made my stomach tighten instantly. I turned slowly, Jessica had been sitting on one of the beds, but now she was walking toward me, her expression filled with amusement.

She looked me up and down, taking in my uniform, the simple clothes, the name tag. “You?” she said, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You went from being a billionaire’s wife to working as a hotel cleaner?”

Jessica had just landed her first debut role in one of the biggest movie productions. Lyon had literally paid off the original lead actress just to give Jessica that role. And now they were here—filming in this same hotel Of all places.

She laughed, and I stayed silent. This was exactly what I had wanted to avoid. This was why I had begged Maria not to assign me here. But fate had a way of dragging me back into the same circles I was trying to escape.

Jessica pulled out her phone and raised it toward me. Before I could react, the camera flashed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice tight.

“I’m taking a picture,” she said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m going to send this to Lyon and Ashley too.”

At the mention of Ashley, something twisted inside my chest. “I’m sure she’ll be very interested,” Jessica continued, smiling wider. “Maybe disappointed or maybe relieved you’re finally out of her life.”

“You left everything behind,” she went on. “And this is what you became? You couldn’t find anything better to do?”

It had been six months since I walked out of the Stark estate with nothing. Not even the wedding ring I once wore with pride, they had taken it back like I was never meant to have it.

I had nowhere else to go, so I returned to my aunt. Aunty Martha didn’t welcome me warmly. She was very angry, she said I should never have agreed to change Stormy's details to mine. That I should have dropped out instead

She was right, I had tried to justify it at the time, told myself I was doing it for Stormy but deep down, I knew I had wanted the opportunity and that choice cost me everything.

When I came back, Stormy didn’t even need what I had taken anymore. She had already moved on, already built something for herself. She had graduated from another college, strong and independent, as if nothing had ever held her back.

Seeing that broke something in me. While she moved forward, I was starting over from nothing.

I took whatever jobs I could find, anything that paid enough to survive. I told myself that one day, I would save enough money to go back to school and finally study Performing Arts, the dream I had buried for so long.

For a moment, it seemed like things might change. A colleague helped me get a slot at a modeling audition. It felt like a second chance, something I could finally call mine.

But it didn’t last, Stormy took that opportunity too. She left for Paris, chasing her own future. When I confronted Aunty Martha, she called it karma, said it was the consequence of what I had done before. Then she asked me to leave.

This job at the hotel was the only thing I had left after that. It wasn’t glamorous, but it kept me going. It gave me something steady, something real.

Jessica’s voice pulled me back to the present. “So without the Starks, you’re nothing,” she said, before I could respond, her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen, then turned away from me to answer the call, as if I was no longer worth her attention.

Jessica ended the call and turned sharply to the crew. “I have to leave,” she announced, already reaching for her bag.

The room went quiet for a second before the director stood up quickly. “Leave? This is your scene we are about to shoot,” he said, confusion clear in his voice.

“I said I have an emergency,” Jessica replied, brushing past a makeup artist. “I need to leave right now.”

The director frowned, his patience thinning. “We can’t halt production because of you. Do you understand how much this costs?”

Jessica didn’t even slow down. “Then call someone else,” she said dismissively. “I’m going to Italy, I have a fashion show.”

Gasps and murmurs spread across the room. Before anyone could stop her, she walked straight toward the door—and shoved me out of the way like I wasn’t even there. I stumbled back, barely catching my balance as she left without another word.

The door slammed behind her. For a moment, no one moved. Then everything fell into chaos.

“Get casting on the phone,” the director snapped. “Call the original actress now!”

One of the assistants rushed to make the call. Everyone else began talking at once, panic rising in the room.

“She picked up?” the director asked impatiently.

The assistant shook her head. “She said she is not available, not after the stunt we pulled.”

“Tell him to try someone else. Anyone!” More calls were made, one after another, but no one was available. The tension in the room grew heavier with each passing second.

Maybe this is an opportunity, I said to myself. I knew I could act, from when I was a kid, standing in front of my aunt’s cracked mirror, repeating lines from movies.

And now it was right in front of me, I will take this as one of the debts the Starks owe me.

I stepped forward before I could think myself out of it. “I can do it,” I said.

The words cut through the noise, and the director paused mid-step and turned to look at me. I held his gaze. “I can do the scene,” I said again, steadier this time. “I can act and won’t waste your time.”