Chapter 2
The air was thick with a suggestive and awkward tension.
"So this is what you call rehearsing?" Dexter's voice was so frosty it could freeze the room.
Rolf, being a top-tier Best Actor, reacted in a flash.
He quickly got up, climbed out of the coffin, straightened his clothes, and put on a righteous, dignified expression.
"Dexter, you misunderstood. Muriel was rehearsing when her claustrophobia suddenly kicked in, and she fainted inside. I was just trying to carry her out, but I lost my footing and ended up tumbling in myself..." he said.
Muriel sat up, clutching her chest and gasping for breath, going along with the act. "Yeah! Dexter, my chest still feels so tight."
As she spoke, she gave me those puppy-dog eyes, looking utterly pitiful. "Nicole, please don't blame Rolf. It's all my fault. My body just let me down..."
The commenters did a complete 180.
[Aww, poor Muriel. Even at a time like this, she's still trying to explain herself.]
[Exactly! How is it wrong for the male lead to save her? That villainess is definitely going to use this as an excuse to stir up trouble again!]
I watched the whole scene unfold and could barely hold back a laugh.
Honestly, with acting like that, they really ought to be winning Oscars.
"Save her? Just happened to fall in? Rolf, that was one hell of a tumble. Your clothes got all messed up, and look—you even flipped her skirt."
I gave Rolf a half-smile, amusement and sarcasm flickering in my eyes.
"But let's be real here..." I stepped forward, looming over Muriel, who was still inside the coffin.
"If Ms. Carter was having a claustrophobia attack, shouldn't you have pulled her out and rushed her to the hospital? Instead, you closed the lid. So what were you two doing in there... giving her mouth-to-mouth?"
Then I pointed at the lipstick stain on the corner of Rolf's lips and at Muriel's smeared lipstick.
Rolf's expression froze, and he instinctively wiped the corner of his mouth.
Muriel went pale as a sheet, dropping her head in a panic.
The crew started gossiping, shooting looks of disdain at them.
Dexter lost it and kicked the coffin hard. "Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous. Do you think this set is some kind of place for you to mess around?"
Rolf, clearly anxious, stepped forward and gently took my hand, lowering his voice.
"Nicole, do me a favor. Don't make a scene. With everyone watching, if this gets out of hand, it'll be bad for all of us. Let me explain everything to you later, when we're alone."
Back then, I used to think those hands were warm and strong. Now, all I can feel is how dirty they are.
The live chat was still going wild: [Rolf's already swallowing his pride for her! What does she want, seriously?]
[She's just a nobody screenwriter. Without Rolf, she'd be nothing.]
[Come on, just forgive him already. Stop acting so stubborn.]
I shook off his hand, grabbed a wet wipe from my bag, and carefully wiped my skin where he'd touched me. Then I tossed the wipe into the coffin. "So dirty."
Rolf's face twisted, and a dangerous look flashed in his eyes. "Nicole, don't push your luck."
"Push my luck?" I let out a cold laugh, sweeping my gaze around the room.
"Since you love this coffin so much, Rolf, I'll just buy it and consider it a gift for you." I paused, my eyes locking onto Muriel.
"A bitch and a dog, may you two rot together forever. This coffin is perfect for your wedding bed."
With those words, I strode out, leaving behind a chorus of shocked gasps and whispers.
This time, there was no turning back.
Back at my apartment, I stared out at the city lights and let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh.
My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
Rolf kept calling, and my messages were blowing up with nonstop texts from him.
[Nicole, you were way too impulsive today! Do you have any idea how much damage this is going to do to me?]
[Muriel is innocent. She's just a rookie. Why are you going after her?]
[Just post something on Twitter and clear things up. Say we were just rehearsing. Don't let those gossip accounts spread nonsense.]
[Pick up the phone. Don't make me lose my temper!]
As I read those messages, all I could think was, what a joke.
Three years, this was the man I wasted my love on.
He cheats on me, and now he has the audacity to expect me to cover for him.
I blocked him on everything—phone, messages, socials. No way for him to reach me now.
Just then, a few more lines of live chat floated across my eyes: [Why isn't that witch gone yet? She actually had the nerve to block the male lead!]
[Relax! She's just playing hard to get. Without Rolf, she wouldn't even be able to afford her rent.]
[Wait till Rolf lands that big-budget hit and becomes the industry's golden boy—she'll be begging for mercy!]
A big-budget hit? They must mean Kingdom. That was the Robertson Group's biggest investment this year, and Rolf only got the male lead because of my connections.
Now...
I picked up my backup phone and called the secretary.
"Hello, Ms. Robertson," the secretary said.
"Let the producer of Kingdom know—the male lead is getting replaced," I replied.
"Alright, who do you want instead?"
"Anyone but Rolf. I don't care if it's a dog. Just make sure he's out!"
"Understood. Also, Mr. Marshall's properties and vehicles are all under the company's name. Should we reclaim them?"
"Reclaim everything. And check Muriel's contract with her agency."
"She's signed with Nebula Entertainment. There are five years left on her contract."
"Buy it out. I want her to experience what real claustrophobia is."
After hanging up, I swirled my wine glass, watching the blood-red liquid slide slowly down the sides.
Since you all call me a bad woman, I'll show you just how ruthless I can be.