Chapter 587

The folding dagger in his hand snapped back into its sheath as a smile bloomed across his face. “Ms.

Haywood, do you really think my day will come and I’ll become a superstar?”

Brielle stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, her gaze resolute. “I don’t know, but I’m going to try.”

His three–hundredth mission in life had again ended in failure. Ricardo looked down, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Hmm, I believe you, Ms. Haywood.”

Brielle offered him a small smile in return. “You should smile more, you know. When I first noticed you, your demeanor was elegant, yes, but too hollow. It felt like there was no soul. You know Max, the CEO of Dorsey International, right? You remind me of him.”

He’s perfect, so perfect it lacked any warmth of life.

“How could I compare myself to someone of Mr. Dorsey’s stature.”

Unbeknownst to Brielle, she had just been dancing on death’s doorstep. She turned and continued walking forward, her tone lighthearted. “There will be a chance. Everyone will know your name, they will like you, and they will idolize you.”

Despite being cloaked in shadows herself, she still hoped to bring a sliver of light to others. Brielle, what an odd character.

“Ms. Haywood, we’re here.” Ricardo pointed ahead to a modest bungalow that, sure enough, was plastered with ads all around, with garbage even spilling out at the entrance.

A few older ladies were sitting on the side of the alley, rolling their eyes skyward at the sight of Brielle.

“Look at that, such a young girl getting into the game. Are jobs that hard to find out there?”

“Keep it down, will ya? I bet this slut’s here to steal our business.”

“She must be looking for that drunk inside, huh?”

Brielle frowned, momentarily confused by their words.

Ricardo stood behind her, casting a glance at the ladies. Their faces stiffened, turning pale with fear, and they quickly lowered their heads, falling silent. That look he gave them was terrifying as if the Grim Reaper himself had fixed his gaze upon them. They felt like reaching up and checking if their heads were still attached to their necks.

Brielle ignored them and knocked on the door. A hoarse voice came from inside. “It’s open. Come on in. The delivery sure is slow today!”

Brielle pushed the door open, half–expecting to find a mess to match the alley, but the inside was surprisingly tidy.

There was a small bed, a window that framed the sky, and an array of scripts scattered across 12:22 the bedding.

John’s face was buried in a beard, and on the table were several opened bottles of the strongest kind of whiskeya.

When he spotted two strangers enter, his forehead furrowed. “You folks must have the wrong place?”

Ricardo pulled up a chair for Brielle, who nodded her thanks and then settled down slowly. “Mr. John, we’ve come to see you. I hear you’ve been looking for investors?”

John sized up Brielle from head to toe. Her clothes weren’t high–end, but they looked effortlessly comfortable on her. The clarity in her eyes, like glass dipped in water, was oddly persuasive.

“Yes, but no one’s willing to invest.”

Brielle’s gaze caught a wedding photo on the wall, the bride’s face marred by several slashes from a knife, a sight that made one’s heart skip a beat. The hatred John held for the woman was evident.

“Mr. John, I’ve seen the movie you directed before. It was good. But I want to know about the most controversial thing you’ve been criticized for. Did you really commit domestic violence and cheat?”

If John’s character were truly despicable, she would have never chosen to work with such a man. A person devoid of morals could at any time become a backstabbing blade to their partner.

Instantly, John’s face twisted with rage, followed by a deep bitterness, as if he wanted to grab the knife beside him and carve a few more lines into the face of the woman in the photo. “No, I never laid a hand on her.”

“What’s the truth, then?”

John closed his eyes, rubbing his temples as if he had aged years in a moment. “She cheated on me. I caught her in the act. She’s a top director back home and one of the few women in that position. She feared I would expose her infidelity and ruin her.career, so she accused me of domestic violence. She conspired with her lawyer to leave me with nothing. Everything I had worked for over the years…

gone.”

His voice grew hoarse, and his eyes dimmed. “That bitch even carried someone else’s child. If I hadn’t caught them, I might have ended up raising the kid, none the wiser. I’m here because of her! All her doing! Now she’s still a top director, untouchable, while I’m treated like vermin, scorned by everyone!”

The injustice of it all was unbearable. His life had turned out to be more tragic and dramatic than any film.

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