Chapter 332

Vivian's parting words, meant only to unsettle her, had struck deeper than intended.

As the car disappeared down the road, the woman's gaze remained fixed on the empty street. Her mind whirled with sudden clarity as Damien's earlier words replayed in her memory.

He had mentioned someone named Adrian. That name rang a bell.

A sharp realization pierced through her. Adrian—wasn't he Serena's mysterious patron? So Adrian was Vivian's powerful backer?

A slow, calculating smile spread across her lips. The earlier panic dissolved into something far more dangerous. Vivian had unknowingly handed her a weapon—one that required no direct action from her. Others would handle Vivian for her.

The woman's thoughts raced back to when she'd worked with Serena on that period drama, when they'd exchanged contact information.

Her phone was already in her hand. Fingers flew across the screen as she typed: "Serena, just met someone named Vivian. She got Mr. Blackwood to secure her a spot on Spotlight Night."

Meanwhile, Vivian sat quietly in the backseat of the car, trying to shake off the unpleasant encounter. Compared to the storm of drama she'd recently survived, this felt like a minor irritation—hardly worth her attention.

To distract herself, she scrolled through social media. A post from Ivory Phoenix Productions caught her eye—a call for new script submissions.

It reminded her sharply of her own stalled writing project. While Lydia's latest venture was already in pre-production, her screenplay seemed indefinitely postponed.

She couldn't afford to lose momentum, not for some fleeting commercial project.

Her fingers hovered over the messaging app before typing: "Any updates on when we can resume the script? The longer we wait, the more continuity issues might arise."

The reply came after an agonizing pause: "Still waiting for client confirmation."

Vivian bit her lip, resisting the urge to press further. This deal had been arranged through Lydia's connections, and she wouldn't jeopardize her friend's position.

Closing the app, she told herself to focus on acting and creative work. Financial stability would solve everything—or so she desperately hoped.

If only she hadn't wasted those years as a housewife, setting aside all her ambitions.

Across town at Ivory Phoenix Productions, tension hung thick in the air. Serena's sudden withdrawal had left the entire project in limbo. Without her final payment, production couldn't proceed.

The studio head ran a hand through his thinning hair and typed a message mirroring Vivian's concern: "Ms. Whitmore, when can we expect to continue the scriptwriting?"

The message sat unanswered, the blinking cursor a silent accusation.

Minutes stretched into hours.

Still no reply.