UNDER THE SPOTLIGHT Chapter 42

I swallowed, forcing myself to focus. “Ms. Shaw, who is this person? Is it connected to Stellar Entertainment?”

She smiled, her fingertip gliding over my shoulder, teasing enough to set my blood on fire. “Logan, you’re still green. This industry is deeper than you can imagine. Go to the meeting and see who you’re dealing with. But remember—don’t act rashly. If anything feels off, contact me immediately.”

She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, voice low. “And don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment. The temptations here are deadlier than you think.”

I nodded, but my mind flashed to her open neckline and the shadowed line of her cleavage. My heart hammered like a drum.

Leaving the office, I felt pressure unlike anything before. Christina’s warning struck me like a bell.

For the next three days, I kept up appearances—managing the narrative, calling lawyers, coordinating PR—while quietly preparing for the meeting. I knew it could be a trap, but I had to learn who was pulling the strings.

At 9 p.m. three days later, I pushed open the door to the Orchid Suite at the Grand Regent Hotel.

The private room was opulent. A crystal chandelier washed the space in an amber, suggestive glow. The air was heavy with the sweet, cloying mix of champagne and perfume. A sharp-looking young man sat in the center of the sofa in a perfectly tailored white suit, swagger in his posture, a confident smile tugging at his lips.

On either side of him, four stunning women were dancing provocatively in glittering sequined mini dresses. The hemlines barely covered the tops of their thighs; plunging necklines revealed expanses of pale skin. Under the lights their curves flickered, enough to make anyone’s pulse race.

I’d assumed they were just club dancers—until I looked closer and my stomach dropped. I knew these women. They were small supporting players from a few recent streaming series—sixth- or seventh-billed types who barely got a line on set. Yet here they were, grinding with practiced heat, eyes smoky and trained, like pets taught to please.

Rage surged up. Maya’s despair in the executive office flashed through my mind.

I fixed the young man with a cold stare and cut to the chase. “Were you the one sending those texts?”

He didn’t answer. He lifted his glass, smirked, eyes mocking. “Logan, long time no see. Don’t you recognize me?”

I froze, mind racing back. A scene snapped into focus—Serena and I at Mr. Dalton’s banquet. This man sat beside Dalton, a leering smile on his face, eyes like a starving wolf on prey.

My chest tightened. “Who the hell are you?”

He set down his glass, stood, smoothed his suit with leisurely care, and grinned with brazen arrogance. “Then allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Damian Sloane, chairman of Stellar Entertainment.”

Damian Sloane. The name hit me like a bomb, leaving my head ringing.

Stellar Entertainment—the company aggressively pushing new talent lately. The gossip sites pumping out scandals all seemed to tie back to them.

I snorted. “Mr. Sloane, all those taunting texts—just to set up tonight’s little show?”

He laughed loud and long, flicked his hand to stop the actresses. The room fell quiet, save for the low thrum of background music.

He lounged back on the sofa, crossed one leg over the other, and spoke with cool certainty. “Logan, I pegged you as capable from the start. Those texts were just to test your reactions. You didn’t disappoint. You handled the narrative well—and you fought hard for Serena and Maya.”

I clenched my fists, forcing the anger down. “What do you want, Damian?”

He smiled, eyes sharp. “Simple. I want you to jump ship to Stellar. Bring Serena and Maya with you. The three of you are a goldmine, and I don’t intend to let that go to waste.”

Behind the Spotlight