Chapter 7
Byron reached out with a long arm and wrapped his large hand around the handle of Allyson's cheap suitcase.
He lifted it effortlessly, turning his head to look at Allyson, who was still standing frozen in shock.
"Which room?" he asked. His voice was cold, but the action was undeniably commanding.
Allyson blinked, stammering as she pointed toward the stairs. "Uh, second floor. Far right."
Byron didn't say another word. He carried her suitcase up the stairs, his long legs taking the steps two at a time.
The people in the living room were left picking their jaws up off the floor.
In the live chat, Joanne's fans were having a meltdown, screaming about how unfair it was that Byron helped the villain but ignored their idol.
Joanne stood next to her pink bags, her face cycling through shades of red and white. Her nails were digging into her palms again.
Fernando cleared his throat, stepping forward to grab Joanne's bags, but the gesture felt entirely hollow now. Byron had stolen all the oxygen in the room.
Allyson watched Byron disappear down the hallway. A rush of adrenaline hit her. She turned around and looked at Joanne, deciding to strike while the iron was hot.
She plastered a look of exaggerated surprise on her face. "Oh my god, you look so familiar," Allyson said loudly. "Aren't you... wait, what was your name?"
Joanne forced her sweet smile back into place. "Allyson, we just saw each other last night at the banquet."
Allyson slapped her forehead. "Right! Now I remember! You're the actress who stole my role in City of Stars!"
The words dropped like an anvil.
Joanne's sweet mask shattered into a million pieces. She waved her hands frantically. "You're misunderstanding things. That was the director's choice-"
Allyson took a step closer, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The director's choice? You mean bringing your own investors to kick out the original cast member is a normal choice?"
The other guests stared in absolute shock. Nobody dropped industry secrets like this on live television.
Dexter Finch was screaming in the control room, ordering the cameras to zoom in on Joanne's panicked face.
The live chat instantly flipped. Sane viewers started questioning Joanne's innocent persona.
Tears welled up in Joanne's eyes. She let them spill over her cheeks, looking like a kicked puppy.
Just then, Byron walked back down the stairs.
Joanne looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes pleading for him to save her, to defend her honor.
Byron reached the bottom of the stairs. His dark eyes swept past Joanne's crying face without a single flicker of emotion. He didn't even pause.
He walked straight to Allyson.
"Suitcase is put away," he muttered, low and flat. Then he walked past her, heading toward the kitchen.
The total, brutal dismissal hit Joanne harder than a physical slap. Her pride was annihilated.
She let out a choked sob, covered her face with her hands, and ran up the stairs, leaving Fernando to awkwardly drag her bags behind her.
Allyson watched her run away, a deep, satisfying thrill rushing through her veins.
Melody leaned over and gave Allyson a subtle thumbs-up. "Nice work," she whispered.
Allyson smirked. She turned and walked toward the kitchen, curious to see what her fake husband was doing.
When she walked in, Byron was standing with his back to her, pouring a glass of water. Hearing her footsteps, the corner of his mouth twitched upward, just for a second.
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