Angela's POV
Ten Years Later
The waves crashing against the Santa Barbara shore filled the quiet of the late afternoon. I sat in a lounge chair by the beach, sunglasses on, a wide-brimmed hat pulled low, a scarf covering part of my face.
I didn’t want anyone recognizing me—not now, not here. The sea breeze brushed my face, but it couldn’t chase away the restlessness gnawing at my mind.
The tablet on my lap lit up, showing the news that had been haunting me. The headline glared back: “Rising Star Angela Jones Lands Lead Role Thanks to Special Relationship with Director Edward Kane.”
My eyes stayed glued to the photos attached to the article. One showed Edward Kane leaning toward me at a restaurant. The angle made it look like we were kissing. “Angela Jones and Edward Kane Spark Speculation: Did She Earn Her Lead Role on Talent or Through a Forbidden Relationship?”
I let out a heavy sigh. My head throbbed. The sunset looked beautiful, but it didn’t soothe the weight pressing down on me.
This wasn’t just gossip. This was slander that could ruin my career before it even began.
I shut off my phone, which I’d been carrying all day. Beth, my manager—and the only person at our small, up-and-coming agency who believed in me—was probably panicking, trying to track me down.
But I didn’t want to respond. Any explanation would be pointless. One photo was all it took for people to form their opinions.
The sea breeze grew colder, pushing my mind back to the past, to when life had felt simpler, perfect even. I closed my eyes, almost hearing Mom’s gentle voice, gone long before I was ready to lose her. “Angela, life is too short. Be happy. Chase your dreams. But never lose yourself.”
After her major surgery, Mom had gotten a little better. But no one knew her time would be so short.
Now, I’d landed the lead role—the dream we’d talked about for years—but it all felt meaningless with this scandal hanging over me. I was terrified of losing everything I’d fought for.
I was nobody in this industry. One big project, and it was already tainted by scandal. Labeled a homewrecker, a mistress, a newcomer who “slept her way to the top.”
Nobody knew how hard I’d worked to pass auditions, how hard Beth had lobbied for my name to be considered. And now, it all came crashing down.
As if that wasn’t enough, Aaron’s face haunted me again. The interview I watched the other day replayed in my mind. He’d been sitting there in a sharp suit, his gaze sharp, radiating confidence.
The reporter asked, “Mr. Carter, you’re now known as one of the most influential young businessmen. What drives you to get where you are?”
I remembered the thin smile that curved his lips. “Revenge,” he said calmly, but the word hit like a bomb in my brain.
He continued, his voice flat yet cutting, “When someone ruins your life, you have two choices. Accept defeat and crumble, or rebuild yourself to destroy them. I chose the second.”
He didn’t say my name, but I knew who he meant. I was the wound that built his empire. I was the reason he became this strong.
I gripped my water bottle tighter, my hands trembling. All the guilt I’d held back came rushing in. I’d been part of his downfall. And now, even when I finally achieved something, it felt like a curse.
Would he really destroy me someday?
I took a sip of water, hoping the cold liquid could calm the chaos inside me. But nothing changed. It wasn’t enough to quiet the storm of emotions in my chest. I needed something to make me forget, at least for a little while.
As the sun disappeared completely, I rose from the lounge chair, my steps heavy. I left the beach, walking back toward the nearby hotel. No one here recognized me, and that was the only good thing today.
Once inside my hotel room, I set my tablet and phone on the table. I exhaled slowly before stepping into the bathroom. Warm water poured over my hair and body. For a moment, it felt like the water was washing away my tangled thoughts.
But after stepping out, my mind was still a mess. I knew what I needed to really forget—something strong, something that would numb me.
I made my way down to the hotel’s small bar. It was dim, filled with chatter, laughter, and clinking glasses. I sat in a corner, my scarf and sunglasses still shielding my face.
The bartender came over. “What can I get you tonight?”
“Something strong,” I said.
He nodded and poured the drink, sliding the glass toward me. “Here you go.”
I stared at the liquid. The first sip burned my throat, but it felt like medicine for my tangled mind.
One drink became two, then three. Each sip burned, but strangely, it made me feel lighter.
Hours passed. I’d lost count of how many glasses I’d downed. My head grew heavy, and the sounds around the bar became a distant hum I couldn’t make sense of. I didn’t remember what I’d said or how I’d laughed alone at the table.
When I finally stood, my steps were unsteady. I grabbed the table for balance and started walking out. Outside, I felt my body crash into someone.
“Sorry…” I mumbled, my words slurred. I didn’t even look at who it was.
Then my stomach twisted, and before I could stop it, I vomited—right onto the stranger.
“Shit!” I heard a man curse faintly, but my legs gave out, and my vision blurred. I collapsed to the ground, and after that, everything went black.
I woke up the next morning, head pounding. Slowly, I opened my eyes, realizing I was in a bed.
I sat up carefully, clutching my head, trying to stave off the relentless dizziness. The thick blankets wrapped me in warmth but did nothing for the sudden anxiety clawing at me. I looked around. It was a hotel room—but not mine.
“What happened?” I whispered.