Chapter 300
Chapter 300:
She hadn’t needed a key card. She had spent an hour loitering by the smoking area near the back exit, watching staff come and go. When a harried production assistant stepped out for a cigarette, leaving his lanyard dangling from his back pocket, Crystal bumped into him.
A quick apology, a quicker sleight of hand, and she was in.
She had been banned from the industry. Her life was over.
And she blamed one person.
Skye Sterling.
Crystal had seen the news. She had seen Skye rising while she fell into obscurity. The unfairness of it burned in her brain like a fever. She moved past a rack of costumes, breathing ragged.
She knew the layout of this studio. She had worked here as an intern two years ago.
She knew the blind spots in the security cameras.
Back in the green room, Liam couldn’t sit still. He paced, ignoring the live feed on the monitor where Seraphina awkwardly tried to banter with the host.
“Where are you?” Liam whispered to his phone.
Dominic’s aide returned. “Sir. No hospital admissions for Skye Sterling. But… paparazzi just tweeted a photo. A black SUV dropped her off at the side entrance. It’s registered to a holding company linked to Alistair Thorne p>
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “Thorne? My brother p>
Liam heard it. He froze mid-step.
Alistair.
She was with Alistair. All night.
A wave of jealousy so potent it felt like nausea crashed over him. He gripped the back of a chair, knuckles turning white.
She wasn’t sick.
She was with him.
At that moment, the back entrance doors swung open.
Skye Sterling walked in.
She wasn’t running. She wasn’t apologizing. She walked with a languid, easy grace that commanded attention. She wore a crisp white men’s shirt tucked into high-waisted black trousers, her hair loose and slightly messy in a way that looked intentional and incredibly chic. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes.
The paparazzi waiting by the door erupted, flashes blinding in the dim hallway.
𝘙𝗲𝘴𝗉ес𝗍 th𝖾 o𝗋і𝗀i𝗻аl со𝘯t𝗲ոt 𝗳𝗋оm 𝘣еlnо𝘷𝘦𝗹ѕ.𝖼𝗈𝗺
“Skye! Skye! Why are you late p>
“Is it true you’re ill p>
“Whose shirt is that p>
Skye ignored them all. She breezed past the security checkpoint, flashing a VIP badge.
Liam rushed out of the green room, meeting her in the hallway leading to the stage.
“Skye!” he called, breathless. “Are you okay? I was worried p>
Skye didn’t stop. She didn’t even turn her head. She walked past him as if he were a piece of furniture.
“I’m fine,” she said to the air, her voice cool and detached.
Liam reached out to grab her arm. “Skye, wait. Talk to me p>
Before his fingers could graze her sleeve, a security guard stepped between them. It was one of Alistair’s men, disguised as studio security.
“Miss Sterling is on air in two minutes, sir,” the guard said firmly, blocking Liam’s path.
Dominic stepped out of the shadows, leaning against the wall. “Nice shirt, Skye,” he sneered. He eyed the cuffs. “Turnbull & Asser. Bespoke. The exact same cut my brother has ordered for years. You’re wearing his skin, aren’t you p>
Skye stopped then. She lowered her sunglasses just enough to look Dominic in the eye. Her gaze was clear, sharp, and mocking.