Semua Bab Beautiful But Unlucky : Bab 11 - Bab 20

The car ride back home was quieter than I expected. Edward had picked me up after my meeting with Calvin. I was still in my feelings, trying to make sense of everything. The offer, the tension, the nerve he had. But tonight wasn’t about that anymore. The weight had shifted, and the silence between us wasn’t empty - it felt like it carried its own story.Edward, of all people, rarely stayed this quiet. Usually, he was running his mouth about a million things, most of them meant to distract me or make me laugh. But tonight, his eyes kept on the road, hands steady on the wheel, and his mind clearly somewhere else.“You ever think about going back?” I finally broke the silence.He blinked, glanced at me for a second, then returned his eyes to the road. “Back where?”“To music. Jazz.”His jaw twitched, and I caught the way his hands tightened on the wheel. During his usual ramblings he had mentioned his talent in Jazz, plus a hundred other awards he allegedly won during his prime. “I used

Calvin’s POV---The door clicked shut behind her, a whisper of finality in its sound, but her presence lingered like perfume in the air - heady, disarming, impossible to ignore.Silvia Moretti had officially signed with Deva Entertainment.And despite my years of mastering control - over my business, my thoughts, my damn urges - I couldn’t shake the pulse in my veins every time she was near. She was sunlight wrapped in shadows, that woman. A contradiction too alluring to resist. And now she was mine - professionally, of course.I turned away from the door and moved behind my desk, running a hand through my hair to chase the heat that still clung to my neck. Justin’s voice pierced the fog of my thoughts.“Well, that was entertaining,” he said, sauntering in like he owned the place. Well he did a bit but this was my space.“You’re not supposed to eavesdrop.”“I wasn’t,” he smirked, dropping into the chair Silvia had just vacated. “But that glass wall isn’t exactly a privacy curtain. Th

Silvia’s POVAs I walked out of Deva, the fresh wind hit me, a twirl of purpose, coffee and the citylife. I walked along the familiar block near Deva’s studio.I wasn’t heading in for a meeting. Not today. Anymore. I had plans of my own - to breathe, to stretch, to be human again. But New York, with all its unpredictability, always had other ideas.“Silvia?” a familiar voice called.I turned, sunlight catching in my hair as I spotted Anora waving at me from across the street. She wore a cropped leather jacket over a grey turtleneck, her signature cat-eye sunglasses perched on her head like a crown. She crossed over, graceful as ever, lips curved in a wide, knowing smile.“Well, well, if it isn’t Deva’s newest heartbreaker,” she teased.“I could say the same about you,” I returned, surprised at how easy it felt to smile around her. Word must have travel really fast in this place.“When Count saw you come back to the company, we knew you were here to stay.” She said as if reading my tho

The night before the shoot, my nerves were a delicate wire strung tight inside my chest. Every breath pulled it thinner. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, the script in my hand now soft at the edges from how often I’d touched it.“Freedom,” I whispered, pacing slowly, letting the words bleed into the silence. “Not bottled. Not borrowed. Mine.”The line should’ve rolled off my tongue like silk, but it still felt like sand - rough, uncertain.Was I ready for this?A soft knock broke through my thoughts.“Come in,” I called.Elizabeth stepped inside, balancing a tray with a small plate of cookies and two cups of herbal tea. She looked like home - sweatpants, no makeup, hair tied up in a messy bun. But the moment she saw the tension on my face, her smile gentled even more.“I brought sugar therapy,” she said, placing the tray on my dresser and flopping onto the bed like she’d claimed it years ago.I chuckled and sat beside her. The cookies smelled like almond and cinnamon - our child

Three days after the last beach shoot, I found myself lying on my bed in nothing but a towel, my skin still warm from a long, indulgent shower and my muscles humming with exhaustion. The city buzzed beyond the glass windows, but I lay cocooned in silence, my hair damp against the pillow, eyes fixed on the ceiling.My mind refused to settle.It played a highlight reel of the past week on loop - shot after shot, sand in my mouth, wind in my hair, camera clicks, Reynold’s steady touch, Charlotte’s offhanded remarks, Julien’s venom. But mostly… Calvin’s eyes.His presence.Every time I faltered during the campaign, every time my confidence slipped, he was there. Silent. Watchful. Burning.A pause had been called on the Herald shoot after three relentless days, and Justin had declared a week-long break for Reynold and me. I welcomed it with shaky arms and sore thighs. And yet, rest had done little to calm the storm inside me.Today was supposed to be about the Star Ball. Elizabeth had been