Chapter 1

It was the eighth year of my secret relationship with the genius director, Henry.

He gave the Best Actress award that was supposed to be mine to Mia, the daughter of his driver, who'd only been in the industry for six months.

As Mia passed by with the trophy in her hands, her eyes filled with pride.

She whispered, "All I did was casually mention I'd never won an award, and Henry gave me this as a birthday gift. Face it; you just can't measure up."

I couldn't believe it. I went to confront Henry.

Henry just shrugged it off.

He said, "Mia's still young, you know? Winning that trophy will do wonders for her confidence and help her get her footing around here. Just let her have it.

"Besides, your acting could use a little polish anyway. You'll get your shot eventually, so don't get so worked up over this."

I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over me.

For me, there was no second chance.

I'd promised my dad—if I didn't win this time, I'd head home and let him pick my future husband, no matter who it was.

*****

As soon as the awards ceremony wrapped up, I rushed straight to the lounge, desperate to demand answers from Henry.

Henry didn't even bother to look up, just kept scrolling through his phone, clearly couldn't care less.

He said, "Mia's still young, you know? That trophy'll boost her confidence and help her stand out in the business. Just cut her some slack.

"I promised Jack I'd watch out for Mia. Don't blow this out of proportion."

Mia was the daughter of the Dawson family's driver, Jack, who died saving Henry from a kidnapping years ago.

Ever since then, she became the Dawson family's responsibility—and the living reminder of the debt Henry could never forget.

Half a year ago, Mia graduated from college and suddenly announced she wanted to break into showbiz.

The Dawson family, who practically owned half the entertainment industry, immediately started pushing her career, paving the way for her to shine.

Henry even made an exception and signed her to his own studio, making her the only artist under his company.

And just my luck—every time, Mia would suddenly nab my dresses, eye my jewelry, swipe my endorsements, or even snatch my roles at the very last minute.

Feeling wronged and frustrated, I'd complained to Henry and even argued with him about it.

But he'd always come back with the same old excuse: "Jack did me a huge favor back then. Can't you let Mia have it for my sake? Don't make things hard for me."

So I kept swallowing my resentment, giving in to Mia again and again.

But this time, what Henry wanted me to give up was the Best Actress award—the one thing I wanted more than anything, my biggest dream.

My nails bit into my palm, pain stabbing at my heart. My eyes were wet, but I forced myself not to cry.

I said, "Why the hell should I let this go? This was supposed to be mine—you know damn well how much this means to me."

Henry interrupted, "Anna, it's just an award. Why are you being so stubborn about it?"

His eyes were cool and unconcerned, like none of this mattered to him at all.

He continued, "Honestly, I think your performance still needs some refining. It's no injustice that you didn't win. There'll be other chances, so don't dwell on this."

In that instant, I was so angry. I actually felt like laughing at how ridiculous all this was.

I'd scored a role in an artsy film directed by Thorne—everyone in the biz knew he was ruthless when it came to acting chops.

To really nail the character, I stayed up night after night writing a 50,000-word backstory, thumbed the script to shreds, and even memorized every line my co-star would utter.

In the name of realism, I did all my own stunts—using a double never crossed my mind.

I tumbled downhill and finished a bloody mess with twelve stitches in my scalp, crashed to the ground on wires and nearly snapped a bone, and lay for hours in an icy, stinking river until I was burning with fever.

Thorne, who was notorious for never complimenting anyone, actually broke his own rule just for me.

He said, "Anna, you're not just playing a part anymore—you are the character. I'm genuinely impressed."

A few minutes before the winners were announced, a director from the judging panel who had worked with me before messaged me privately.

He told me my performance was a real breakthrough, and that every judge had cast their vote for me—unanimous across the board.

All those sleepless nights, all that effort—I'd finally earned the respect and recognition of the industry's best.

Just when I was brimming with joy, thinking this would be the crowning achievement of my eight years of hard work in the industry, Henry casually dismissed it all with a single sentence, wiping away everything I'd fought for.

Henry knew exactly how much this award meant to me. He just didn't care.

All at once, a crushing sense of helplessness and feeling wronged washed over me, leaving me empty inside.

Suddenly, I was just so tired. I looked at Henry and said, "Let's break up."

For a split second, surprise flickered in his cold eyes, but he quickly hid it, his brows tightening.

He said, "Don't you ever get bored with these break-up games? Fine by me. Just don't come begging for a second chance when you change your mind."

With that, he didn't spare me a glance and went straight off to celebrate with Mia.

"I won't look back," I murmured, barely above a whisper.

I watched Henry disappear in a rush, my words lingering in the empty air.

Little did he know I'd made a promise to my family: if I didn't win this time, I'd have to go back to Maravista and let them arrange a marriage for me.