The next morning, she called a meeting with the network’s content strategists. “We’re pivoting the Q3 slate,” she announced, sliding a tablet across the table. “No more ‘Jealous’ sequels. Kaelen’s character dies off-screen. Sable’s storyline gets folded into a new franchise—one she’s not the lead in.”
The last one was from a gossip blog she’d never even heard of. Someone on set was leaking. Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “He looks happier without your strings, Helena. Don’t you think?”
That night, Helena didn’t go home. She sat in her glass-walled office overlooking the empty soundstage, scrolling through entertainment news on her tablet. Every headline seemed designed to mock her. MissaX 23 02 17 Helena Locke Jealous Mommy XXX ...
The strategists exchanged glances. “But the analytics show—“
The director called “cut,” and the spell broke. Helena plastered on her professional mask as Kaelen jogged over, still flushed with the scene’s energy. The next morning, she called a meeting with
Helena Locke had built her reputation on composure. As the senior talent manager at MissaX, she was the calm eye in every storm of ego, wardrobe malfunctions, and last-minute script rewrites. But today, her neatly filed nails were digging crescents into her leather-bound notebook as she watched the playback on the studio monitor.
She got into her car and didn’t start the engine. Instead, she pulled out her phone and deleted the draft of a far crueler plan—one that would have buried Sable in a development deal for three years, the industry’s version of exile. Kaelen’s character dies off-screen
Jealousy had made her clever, but not yet cruel. She wanted to keep it that way. For now, she would let Kaelen have his lightness. She would let Sable have her laugh. And she would find out, in the cold quiet of her own ambition, what was left of Helena Locke when she wasn’t the one being watched.
Jealousy, she realized, wasn’t the hot, red thing described in cheap novels. It was cold. It was the click of a lock. It was a quiet, precise calculation.
“That felt good, right?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. His eyes, however, drifted past Helena to where Sable was laughing with a makeup artist. “She’s got this… lightness.”
Helena’s jaw tightened. “Lightness doesn’t sell subscriptions, Kaelen. Edge does. Remember the Dark Vows series? You made that a hit. Not giggles.”