Contract on the Table

Ava had no idea when the ground beneath her began to shift. She only realized it when the whispers followed her softly at first, then louder, sharper, crueler.

The set that had once buzzed with life fell into an uneasy silence the moment she stepped out of the dressing room. Conversations halted mid-sentence. Phones were subtly raised, and eyes lingered longer than necessary. A tightening sensation gripped her chest.

Charlotte noticed immediately. “Ava…” she said softly, glancing around. “Something’s wrong.”

Ava forced herself to stay composed, lifting her chin as she walked forward. Years in the entertainment industry had taught her one thing: panic never solved anything.

But then her phone vibrated relentlessly in her bag. One notification. Then another. Then dozens.

Her manager’s name flashed repeatedly.

Manager Dawn (23 missed calls)

Ava’s fingers trembled as she answered.

“Where are you right now?” Dawn’s voice was sharp, strained.

“On set,” Ava replied cautiously. “What’s happening?”

A brief silence hung over the line. Too brief.

“Don’t move,” Dawn said finally. “I’m sending someone to get you. Do not speak to anyone. Do you understand?”

The call ended abruptly. Ava stared at her phone, heartbeat hammering in her ears.

Charlotte leaned closer, fear evident. “Ava… I just checked social media.”

She held the screen toward her. Ava felt the blood drain from her face.

There it was. A photo grainy, but unmistakable. Her silhouette. A hotel corridor. Early morning light.

The caption scorched her vision:

Upcoming actress Ava Miles caught leaving a mysterious man’s room, using her body to climb the industry ladder?

Her fingers tightened around the phone. This wasn’t an accident. This was a trap.

Her knees weakened, and she grabbed the edge of a nearby chair for support.

Charlotte whispered, horrified. “They don’t even know what happened!”

“They don’t care,” Ava murmured, her voice hollow. “They only care about what sells.”

Across the city, Lorenzo Brown’s office was a study in cold precision. Hudson stood stiffly, watching as Lorenzo examined the photo on the assistant’s phone.

The room seemed to grow colder with every passing second.

“Find out who released it,” Lorenzo finally said. His voice was calm, too calm.

The assistant hesitated. “It came through three marketing accounts, but the original seller,”

“Henry,” Lorenzo interrupted flatly.

The assistant froze. “Yes, sir.”

Leaning back, fingers interlocked, Lorenzo’s gaze was unreadable, his fury controlled yet palpable.

Hudson exhaled sharply. “He’s using her to provoke you.”

“I know,” Lorenzo replied without a flicker of emotion.

“Then why play along?” Hudson frowned. “You could destroy him without dragging her further into this.”

Lorenzo’s lips curved subtly, not in amusement, but calculation. “Henry doesn’t fear loss,” he said. “He fears humiliation.”

The assistant hesitated again. “Sir… the media is demanding a response. If this escalates, her endorsements,”

“They won’t be affected,” Lorenzo interrupted firmly. He stood. “Prepare the contract.”

Hudson’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

“Very,” Lorenzo said, picking up his coat.

That night, Ava sat alone in her apartment. The lights were dim, curtains drawn tight. Her phone lay face-down on the table, as though ignoring it might stop the chaos outside.

A knock at the door made her flinch. Every muscle in her body tensed as she approached.

When she opened it, her breath caught.

Lorenzo Brown stood there imposing, uninvited, unavoidable.

“What are you doing here?” Ava’s voice was hoarse.

He stepped inside without waiting for permission. “You’re being destroyed,” he said bluntly.

“I noticed,” she replied bitterly.

Lorenzo turned to face her fully, gaze sharp and assessing. “Henry wants you ruined. This scandal is only the beginning.”

Ava folded her arms, defensive. “Then why are you here? To watch?”

“No,” he replied. “To stop it.”

She scoffed. “And what do you want in return?”

From his coat, he produced a thick document and placed it carefully on the table.

Ava’s eyes fell on it.

Marriage Agreement.

Her breath hitched.

“A contract marriage,” Lorenzo said evenly. “Public. Legal. Immediate.”

“You’re insane,” she whispered, disbelief lacing every word.

“Perhaps,” he agreed calmly. “But it solves everything.”

He stepped closer. “Your scandal disappears overnight. Henry loses leverage. And you gain protection no one in this country dares to challenge.”

Ava’s pulse raced. “And you?”

“I gain a wife,” he said simply. “On paper.”

Silence stretched. Ava laughed shakily. “You think I’ll just hand over my life?”

Lorenzo’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “You lost control the moment Henry discovered your secret. I’m offering you a way out.”

Her eyes dropped to the contract again. Her hands shook. This wasn’t freedom; it was another cage. But this time, the door was locked from the outside.

Slowly, she met his eyes. “And if I refuse?”

His voice dropped. “Then the world will tear you apart.”

Ava swallowed hard, heart pounding. She understood the weight of the choice before her. The trap was set, the stakes higher than ever, and no one, not even the most powerful people, would intervene if she faltered.

For the first time, Ava realized she wasn’t just fighting for her reputation. She was fighting for survival. And the decision she made tonight would determine everything.