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Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.
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Chapter 7

The next morning at Vance Global. The atmosphere in the boardroom was toxic. Julian sat at the head of the table, staring at the divorce papers. He hadn't slept. He looked like a man on the edge. The door opened and Carter Sterling walked in. Carter was Julian's college friend, a hedge fund manager with too much money and too little empathy. "I heard the news!" Carter grinned, pouring himself a scotch from the sidebar. "Free at last! Ding dong, the witch is dead." Julian slowly lifted his eyes. "Shut up, Carter." Carter laughed, sitting down. "Come on, man. You should be celebrating. She walked away with nothing? That's the best prenup enforcement I've ever seen." "She paid me," Julian said. "Twenty million." Carter choked on his drink. "What? Evelyn? The girl who used coupons at the grocery store?" "It came from a blind trust. I don't know where she got it." Julian rubbed his temples. "Maybe she had family money she never told me about. Or maybe..." "Maybe she's got a sugar daddy," Carter suggested, swirling his glass. "Someone richer than you. That would explain the confidence." Julian slammed his fist on the table. "She doesn't have anyone else! She was obsessed with me." "Well, clearly not anymore." Carter shrugged. "So, look at it this way. Now you can be with Serena properly. No more sneaking around." Julian flinched. "I wasn't sneaking around." "Please. Everyone knew. Even Evelyn, apparently." Carter picked up the papers. "So, tonight? Club X? I rented the VIP room. A 'Welcome Back to Bachelorhood' party." "I'm not in the mood." "You need to get laid, Julian. Forget her. She's probably crying in some motel right now, regretting everything once that mystery money runs out." Evelyn wasn't crying. She was acting. She stood in a small, dusty studio in Queens. An acting coach, an older woman named Madame Leota, was circling her. "Again," she commanded. "But this time, I want to see the anger. Don't hide it." Evelyn took a deep breath. She thought of the fire. She thought of the towel. She thought of the look on Julian's face when he tore the papers. She let it out. She screamed the lines of the monologue, her voice cracking, tears hot on her face. It was raw. Ugly. Madame Leota clapped once. "Good. You have pain, Evelyn. Use it. It is your fuel." Evelyn's phone beeped. Sarah. We have a problem. The leasing office rejected your application, and background checks are stalling. Evelyn frowned and called her. "What's going on?" "It's Julian," Sarah said, her voice tight. "He's frozen your secondary accounts and flagged your social security number with the major leasing agencies. He's trying to make it impossible for you to rent a place or get a standard job without his approval." Evelyn leaned against the wall, sliding down until she hit the floor. "He's trying to starve me out. He thinks I'll come crawling back if I can't get a job or a home." "He thinks you're just a wannabe independent woman with a little settlement money." "What do we do?" Evelyn looked at the script in her bag. Silent Echo. "We stop playing by his rules," she said. "He blocked Evelyn Reed's credit. But he can't block The Architect's network." That night, Julian went to Club X. He drank too much whiskey. The music was pounding against his skull. Serena was there, of course. She was dancing on the table, looking at him, waiting for him to join her. She slid into the booth next to him, her hand creeping up his thigh. "Julian," she purred. "Let's go to my place." She leaned in to kiss him. He smelled her perfume. Gardenias. Suddenly, he felt bile rise in his throat. He saw Evelyn's face, soot-stained, eyes dead. He felt the sting of her slap. He shoved Serena away. Hard. "Don't," he snarled. Serena hit the back of the booth. "What is wrong with you?" "I'm going home," Julian said. He stood up, swaying slightly. "To what?" Serena screamed over the music. "An empty house?" Julian didn't answer. He walked out into the rain.
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