Chapter 3

"Fiona, honey," she began in her usual gentle tone. "Don't let the comments online get to you. Chloe just debuted, so we need to generate some positive buzz for her."

"Understood."

"Also, please don't reveal your relationship with Chloe to the public just yet. We don't want people saying she relies on family connections. It would ruin her image."

I let out a dry laugh. "And it's totally fine if it ruins mine?"

There was a two-second beat of silence on the other end.

"Fiona, we can never truly make up for the hardships Chloe went through. Just be the bigger person this time."

Brenda shot me another text: [The Bennett family bought those trending tags, didn't they? When those smear campaigns called you a cheapskate, your parents let them stay pinned at the top for three whole days without lifting a finger.]

She knew about my situation with the Bennetts and was furious on my behalf.

I typed back: [They're paving the road for Chloe.]

A moment later, the assistant director stuck his head into my tent. "Fiona, we're ready to roll. Oh, by the way, we have another guest star this episode. He just arrived."

"Who?"

"Travis. Surprise! Didn't you two work together on that drama?"

Travis?

He hadn't mentioned a word of this to me.

Our text history was still frozen on my cold "Do whatever you want."

Filming began. The first game was a floating balance beam over a massive pool of water.

I rushed out first, locked my center of gravity, and sprinted straight to the middle platform.

Chloe was still trembling at the starting line, while Travis stood right beside her, holding her arm supportively.

"Don't be afraid, Chloe. Take it slow," he coaxed gently.

Suddenly, Chloe lost her footing and fell into the pool.

Without a second thought, Travis plunged straight into the water after her, scooping her up and holding her tightly against his chest.

The entire crew and cast hooted and cheered.

The cameras swiveled immediately, zooming in for tight, dramatic close-ups.

Dripping wet and clinging to Travis's neck, Chloe's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Travis... thank you so much."

"Are you hurt?" Travis murmured softly, tenderly brushing a wet lock of hair from her cheek.

I stood on the center platform, watching the spectacle. The cold in my chest spread all the way to my fingertips. Without saying a word to anyone, I turned on my heel and crossed the finish line alone.

During the production break, Travis finally sauntered over to my corner.

"Fiona," he kept his voice down, "don't read into it. I just saw how terrified she was and lent a hand."

"Right. Good for you." I turned to walk away.

He grabbed my wrist. "Are you mad at me?"

I wrenched my arm out of his grip. "Why would I be mad? Aren't we 'purely professional colleagues'?"

His face flickered with irritation.

"Fiona, I'm doing this for my career!"

"For your career? So you're staging a PR showmance with Chloe Bennett? Travis, you really know how to play the game. A billionaire's daughter is infinitely more valuable than me. Let's just break up."

His mouth opened, but no words came out to stop me.

Chloe trotted over from the staging area, flashing a bright, radiant smile. "Fiona! Come eat with us! Travis just said he's treating everyone to lunch!"

Travis looked at me, his eyes darting away in guilt.

I smiled thinly. "No thanks. I have craft burgers."

"What's so great about cold burgers?"

"They're free."

Halfway through the next day's shoot, the executive director suddenly sprinted onto the set, his face pale. "Cut! Cut everything! Stop the cameras!"

His eyes were bloodshot. "A chemical plant in the neighboring city just exploded. The fire has engulfed three whole blocks. Casualties are still being counted. The network ordered an immediate three-day entertainment blackout."

I pulled out my phone. The breaking news alert was already screaming in red:

#MetroChemicalPlantExplosion

Tapping into the tag, the live feeds showed a towering inferno, sirens screaming in a chaotic loop.

I closed Instagram and dialed a private number.

"Send me the emergency supply manifest immediately. I want the first shipment delivered within twenty-four hours."

"Anonymous. Keep my name entirely off the paperwork."

The supply list pinged my phone a minute later.

I turned to my assistant, Emma. "Help me contact these wholesale suppliers. We need medical supplies, burn kits, and rations. Run everything through my personal bank account."

Emma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Fiona, this is going to cost over five million dollars!"

"I know."

"B-but you've been saving that money for years!"

"People are dying, Emma."

During the three-day media blackout, every social feed was flooded with tragedy and rescue updates.

On the evening of the third day, celebrities began publicly posting their donation receipts.

Travis's agency was the first to drop a press release: [Travis donates $1,000,000 to the disaster relief efforts. Praying for peace.]

The comments instantly praised him: [Travis has such a golden heart!]

Right after, Chloe posted her own: [Doing my small part. Donating $3,000,000 to stand strong with the families in the disaster zone.]

Attached was a pristine donation certificate signed: Richard, Eleanor & Chloe Bennett.

Eleanor reposted: [So proud of our daughter.]

Richard reposted: [A humble contribution from the Bennett family.]

I refreshed Instagram and scrolled down. Naturally, my name was nowhere on any official list.

The comment sections, however, didn't forget me:

[Where's Fiona? Did she donate anything?]

[The cheapest star in Hollywood strikes again - not a single dime.]

[People are literally burning to death, and these millionaires can't spare a cent. Truly heartless.]

I locked my screen. Donating is an act of conscience, not a public competition. There was no need to justify myself.

Two days later, an embossed gold invitation to an elite charity auction arrived at my apartment.

I opened it and checked the host organization.

Interesting.

Brenda burst into my dressing room just as I was flipping through the auction catalog.

"Fiona! Have you lost your mind?!"