Chapter 3
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Emily stripped off her gown and jewelry, then signed the asset transfer list that David handed her.
The list laid it all out in black and white. Every single thing, from the hairpin in her hair to the high heels on her feet, was company property of Starlight Media.
The moment the bodyguards took her gown away, Emily stood there in her slip dress, shivering in the cold backstage hallway.
The cold air brushed against her bare shoulders, sending a shiver through her.
Mark took off his old suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "It's okay," he said, trying to comfort her. "These are only things. Without all that, you're yourself."
Emily didn't say a word.
She stared down the hallway, watching David and the bodyguards disappear from view, as a wave of panic suddenly washed over her.
For six years, she'd had access to Starlight Media's top-tier resources. She'd never imagined that one day, everything would be taken away so quickly and so decisively.
Emily changed into her own old clothes and was escorted out of the VIP dressing room by the staff.
As she walked past the plaza outside the venue, she saw her own giant poster being torn down from the billboard by workers.
That poster was taken last year when she won the Best Actress award at the Blossom Awards. Her face had been plastered all over the city's subway stations and shopping districts.
Now, a few workers were using box cutters to roughly slice the canvas in half, leaving nothing but the empty metal frame behind.
Her phone buzzed. It was a notification from BuzzNet.
Starlight Media Official: [Starting today, Starlight Media has officially ended all collaboration with Emily Harper. All her scheduled performances are suspended, and any legal issues will be pursued through legal channels.]
Then, a second wave of notifications flooded in.
Luxury Goods Official: [Effective immediately, our partnership with Emily Harper is terminated.]
Elite Couture Official: [Effective immediately, our collaboration with Emily Harper is terminated.]
It was like they'd all planned it together. Every breakup statement dropped at the same time, with the same copy-paste formatting. From the first order to the final post, the whole thing took less than two hours.
Emily's hands started shaking uncontrollably.
Mark leaned over to look at her phone screen. His face changed for a moment, but he quickly regained that calm, artsy confidence. "It's fine. These were chains that big money put on you.
"You're an actress, not a walking billboard. It's actually better now that they've dropped you. No more being tied down by all those commercial deals. You can finally focus on shooting your art films."
Emily turned to look at Mark, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something.
She wanted to ask, 'Do you know how much a luxury goods deal pays per year? Do you realize how much visibility those high-end brands give me? Do you have any idea how much my commercial value will tank without them?'
But she kept it to herself.
Because in Mark's eyes, she saw a kind of sincerity so pure it was almost naive.
He truly believed those commercial endorsements were shackles and that without them, Emily would become a truer, freer artist.
"Let's go." Emily finally managed a smile. "Let's go celebrate."
She took Mark to Micheline's Aureole, the Michelin three-star restaurant in the Riverfront District that she used to frequent.
Every time she went before, the manager would personally come out to greet her, set her up in the most private room, and send over a bunch of the chef's special creations.
Tonight, the manager did come out, but his smile wasn't nearly as warm as it used to be. "Miss Harper, I'm sorry, but all the private rooms are booked tonight. There's a corner table in the main dining area. Would that work for you?"
"All booked?" Emily's voice rose. "I made a reservation last week. You're telling me it's booked?"
The manager's smile stayed fixed, but the respect in his eyes had vanished completely.
He'd been in the restaurant business for fifteen years, and with a job like managing a Michelin three-star place in the Riverfront District, his instincts were sharper than a bloodhound's.
He'd already devoured the whole scandal on BuzzNet two hours ago.
She was now someone that Mr. Evans from Starlight Media had personally blacklisted. Did she think she could still act like a big shot here?
"Miss Harper, it's booked," the manager replied, his tone still polite, but underneath was a subtle disrespect Emily hadn't felt in years. "Maybe you could wait, or come back another day?"
Emily's whole body trembled with anger.
Mark tugged at her sleeve. "Forget it. Let's go somewhere else. Places like this aren't worth it anyway."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Emily snapped, jerking her arm free and striding straight into the main dining area.
She ended up at that corner table, with diners all around casting sidelong glances and whispering.
Emily gritted her teeth, ordered enough food to cover the whole table, and almost had two bottles of Lafite brought over.
"Eat," she told Mark. "Tonight's our big night. Let's celebrate!"