Chapter 616
Chapter 615:
He lifted a framed photograph from his desk, wrapped it carefully in bubble wrap, and set it into the suitcase. He didn’t look back at the view.
New York was behind him. The future was ahead.
The penthouse was quiet later that day, the digital storm having moved on to wreak havoc elsewhere. Jocelyn stood by the window, watching the city lights begin to appear in the gathering twilight, a glass of sparkling water in her hand. She felt a strange detachment, as though she had watched a particularly vicious film rather than lived through it.
Gaston came up behind her, his reflection joining hers in the glass. “Thinking about it?” he asked softly.
“Trying not to,” she admitted. “It’s just — the speed of it. The way everything can be built up and torn down in a single day p>
𝗥е𝗮𝗱 t𝗁𝖾 l𝖺𝗍𝘦𝘀t t𝗿е𝘯𝗱𝘴 𝗈n ѕ.𝗰о𝘮
“That’s the world they choose to live in,” he said, his hands settling on her shoulders. “They build their houses on foundations of gossip and lies. It doesn’t take much to bring them down. Our foundation is stronger p>
Jocelyn leaned back against his chest, drawing comfort from his steadiness.
Her phone buzzed on the nearby table. The caller ID read: Penelope — Producer.
Jocelyn glanced at Gaston before answering. “Penelope p>
“Jocelyn, darling — an absolute masterstroke!” The producer’s voice crackled with manic energy. “The network is going wild. The ratings from this morning’s developments are through the roof. We have never seen anything like it p>
“I’m glad we could provide some entertainment,” Jocelyn said dryly.
“Entertainment? Honey, this is art. Anyway, I’m calling with the official word. The network has terminated Chelsea’s contract. Morals clause — you know how it is. She’s out. Done. Finished.” There was no sympathy in Penelope’s voice, only a ruthless, undisguised satisfaction.
“I see,” Jocelyn said quietly.
“But that leaves an opening,” Penelope continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “A power vacuum. The network brass were very impressed with how you handled things. They want to offer you an executive producer credit for the remainder of the season p>
Jocelyn’s breath caught.
It was a power move — a clear signal to everyone in their world about who had won. It was a chance to shape the narrative rather than simply be a part of it.
She looked at Gaston. He watched her steadily, his expression unreadable but unmistakably supportive. She thought of Chelsea’s venom, the cold calculation of the attack. Part of her wanted to step away from this world of snakes and ladders entirely. But another part — colder, fiercer, the part that was already a mother — understood that running was no longer an option. If this was the arena, she would no longer be the gladiator fighting for scraps. She would be the one running the games.
“I accept,” Jocelyn said, her voice clear and firm — surprising even herself with its quiet steel.
“Fantastic! I’ll have the contracts drawn up immediately. You’re a star, Jocelyn. A real star p>
She hung up. Gaston’s mouth curved into a slow, deeply proud smile.