Kristen chose the veteran around Old He's age—broad-shouldered, buzz-cut, skin tanned dark, but with sharp eyes that commanded respect at first glance.
Seeing her decision, Leon let out a quiet breath of relief. "Wade, from now on you're with Miss Liang. Keep her safe."
Wade nodded, his voice cold and clipped. "Tell Mr. Jin he can rest easy. Anyone who wants to hurt her will have to go through my corpse first."
Wade… the name…
Kristen's brow twitched. She almost wanted to laugh, but as a professional actress, she held it in.
Once Leon left to report back, Kristen turned to the man before her and said gently, "Mr. Wu, I'll be in your care from now on."
She couldn't bring herself to say "Wade"—it kept making her think of that meme: *Young people have no Wade*.
"No need to be formal, Miss Liang. You can call me Old Wu or just Wade." His expression was stern and humorless. "Are you going out today?"
"Yes, I need to report to the production for training."
Wade: "I'll go prepare."
After breakfast, Wade drove her to the training venue in a Cayenne.
Director Hong had arranged for specialized fight coordinators and etiquette coaches to work with all the leads. Because Kristen had been hospitalized, she'd missed a few days, and the other actors had already bonded. On her first day back, their attitudes toward her were polite but distant.
None of the leads were big names—most had been in the industry two or three years like her, never quite breaking through, scraping by on supporting roles and trying to stay visible. This time, they'd all earned their parts through auditions based on skill alone, and they trained with serious, almost grim dedication, barely chatting at all.
By the end of the day, Kristen's back and waist ached; she felt like her whole body might fall apart.
After everyone else left, Kristen stayed an extra two hours to catch up. Only when the sky went dark outside did she finally decide to head home.
She didn't want to use the communal shower, so she just changed out of her sweat-soaked clothes into a simple white tee and dark blue jeans, grabbed her bag, and walked out—only to see Finn standing by the curb.
Like a ghost that wouldn't leave.
Kristen moved to ignore him, but Finn stepped right into her path. "Kris…"
"Get lost." She didn't want to waste a single word on him.
Finn caught her hand, trying to explain. "I didn't know the villa would catch fire—"
"Let go!" Kristen yanked her hand free, her cold eyes full of hatred. "Finn, are you disappointed I didn't die?"
Finn knew she'd misunderstood. Desperate, he pressed on. "Kris, when I said I'd starve you, I was just trying to scare you—I never really meant to let you die. How could I bear to hurt you…?"
His expression was tense, his eyes brimming with what looked like deep feeling. It made Kristen want to retch.
"Keep your fake devotion to yourself. It's disgusting." Once upon a time, Kristen had truly loved him—wanted to marry him, spend her life with him, even if it meant giving up acting.
Now, looking at this man, all she felt was revulsion.
"I… fake devotion?" Finn's face went iron-gray. His voice rose in fury. "You're the one who won't let go of Grace's secrets! I only wanted you to delete that stuff, and you say my feelings are *fake*? Kristen, do you even have a conscience?"
"Aren't *you* disgusting?" Kristen raised her arm, exposing the wound that hadn't fully healed. "You send venomous snakes to bite me to death, then stand here saying you couldn't bear to hurt me? Finn, with acting chops like yours, it's a shame you're not gunning for an Oscar."
***
( End of Chapter )
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