You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 5

Ashton pinched her chin again, tilting her face toward the neon lights. Realizing she looked exhausted, he frowned. "Don't you have a shoot today? Who pissed you off? You look terrible."

Sylvia slapped his hand away. With all the strobe lights flashing, she had no idea how he could even read her expression.

"I'm leaving." The overwhelming noise was making her physically ill.

"I'll take you home." He hovered over her, his imposing frame commanding attention even in the chaotic crowd.

Just as they turned to leave, a voice called out, "Ash!"

The name was drawn out in a cloying, dramatic whine.

Sylvia looked up and saw Reina Winslet. She was just as breathtaking as her photos, her flawless skin glowing, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Pretending Sylvia didn't even exist, Reina marched up and hooked her fingers onto Ashton's sleeve.

"Ash, I've been looking everywhere for you! It's my birthday, you're not trying to sneak out, are you?"

Ashton's entire demeanor softened. The ruthless edge in his gaze melted away completely. "Of course not. We still have to cut the cake. Go on ahead, I'll be right there."

Sylvia's heart shattered. It was the first time she had ever seen him look at another woman with such profound adoration. Every word he spoke prioritized Reina's happiness.

Ashton didn't bother to offer Sylvia an explanation. Instead, he snapped his fingers for his assistant, Finley Harris. "It's too chaotic in here. Take her home."

He didn't ask what Sylvia wanted. His order was absolute.

A bone-deep chill crept through Sylvia's veins. Ignoring Finley trailing behind her, she stormed out of the club and stood on the curb to flag a cab.

The biting night wind whipped her hair. Massive promotional standees lined the street, and a towering digital billboard flashed the glamorous faces of A-list celebrities.

She had bled for the entertainment industry for years, giving it everything she had. Yet, she was still stuck as a D-list actress without a single major breakthrough. Ashton had always hated her career choice, which guaranteed he would never lift a finger to help her.

Showbiz was a vicious, superficial food chain. Stepping on the weak to appease the powerful was standard practice. Without fame, status, or billionaire backers, an actress had zero respect and zero dignity.

Sylvia got straight to the point. "I'm only a month pregnant. I can still do wirework stunts, right? What precautions do I need to take?"

Dr. Sterling's brow furrowed in severe disapproval. "Didn't I explicitly warn you how dangerous that is?"

Sylvia held his gaze, her lips pressed into a stubborn line. "I know. But I need this role."

Clawing your way to the top was never easy. When a person had nothing but their own sheer willpower, they had to bleed ten times, a hundred times more than everyone else. Why else would anyone give them a chance?

Dr. Sterling stared at her for a long moment, completely speechless. His gaze drifted downward, landing on her leg. His frown deepened. "Your stitches ripped. Let me clean that up for you."

When Sylvia had plummeted from the harness, she had sliced her leg open on a set piece.

All the walking had clearly torn the wound back open. Bright red blood had soaked through her white bandages, leaving a dark, damp stain on her black jeans.