Hollywood: From Shadows To The Spotlight

[Chapter 22: Consequences (V)]

Alternative Title - [Chapter 22: For the Sake of Alex]

Last Time on Chapter 021 of [From Shadows To The Spotlight] —

Veronica shielded her eyes from the blinding flashes of cameras as she stepped out of her car, the low hum of the engine drowned out by the chaotic cacophony of reporters and paparazzi shouting her name.

"Veronica! Do you have a comment about the scandal?"

"Was it your idea to fabricate the allegations against Alex Masters?"

"Are you going to issue a public apology, or are you sticking to your story?"

Now Continuing —

The barrage of questions came at her like bullets; they were even more jarring and overwhelming than the blinding flashes of the cameras that were taking pictures of her fall from grace. She tugged her sunglasses down over her eyes; it was more to create a barrier and to not show her unshed tears than to shield herself from the light.

Her heart raced, pounding in her chest, though her breathing was shallow, as she clutched her handbag tightly against her chest as if to protect herself and forced her way towards the entrance of her apartment building. She really cursed her deplorable financial state, as she wouldn't have been hounded by the paps like this if she was living in a gated community.

"Please, I have no comment," she said, her voice strained and exhausted yet firm as she attempted to navigate through the growing crowd.

The paparazzi pressed closer, their lenses inches from her face, their shouts growing louder and more insistent.

"Did John Langston and Linda Carver use you to push their agenda?"

"Are you planning legal action against the Hollywood Tribune?"

"Was there any truth to your claims about Alex Masters?"

Her foot caught on the edge of the curb, causing her to stumble and nearly fall down before luckily catching herself on a lamppost. A few reporters backed away for a moment, but most continued snapping pictures, recording her humiliation.

"Back off!" she shouted as she turned her head. Finally snapping from their lack of respect for her personal space, she glared at the gathered crowd through her sunglasses. "I said no comment!"

A few murmurs of amusement rippled through the group, but the questions still shameless persisted.

She breathed a little easier when she reached the security door of her building; sadly, her fingers fumbled, failing to find the key card in her bag. The crowd sensing the opportunity surged closer like sharks that had smelled blood; their microphones extended towards her.

A reporter even managed to step in front of her, cutting off her path to the door.

"Veronica," he said in an obnoxious high tone. "The public deserves to know the truth. Was this part of your personal vendetta against Alex Masters, or were you just a pawn in someone else's game?"

Her hand clenched into a fist around the key card that she had finally found, and she glared at him with the rage in her heart; if looks could kill, the man would've died twice over. She gritted her teeth as her neck spasmed, tightening in fury.

"What part of 'no comment' don't you understand?!" she hissed angrily, going around him and quickly swiping the card to unlock the entrance and pushing the door open with a sharp shove.

The hungry vultures saw an opportunity again to continue the current trend, but before the reporters could follow, the building's security guard stepped forward, blocking their path.

"That's enough," the guard said, his voice a low growl. "You're trespassing on private property. Move back now."

Thankfully for her that put an end to her harassment at the hands of the paps and journalists, there was a point in time where she would've been giddy with joy over receiving this attention from the media.

But now... now it just felt like a curse; her friend had told her to lie low and not go out in the public till the heat died down, and she agreed.

But she was running low on groceries and supplies, so she had to leave, hoping to hide herself using a good old cap and sunglasses to go under the radar. Oh! How sadly mistaken she was.

They identified her right as she went out the door of her apartment building; motherf**kers had been camping right across the street in their cars.

Veronica slipped inside the building while handing over the keys to her car to the guard and requested him to bring up the groceries. She didn't forget to slip him a tenner for his troubles and let the door slam shut behind her.

For a moment, the shouts, and camera flashes were muffled, replaced by the muted hum of the building's lobby.

She leaned against the wall for a second, catching her breath as she took shallow gasps, and removed her sunglasses to rub her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. Her face was pale, and a sheen of sweat had formed on her forehead.

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath, taking a look at her appearance, while clutching her bag like a lifeline.

The building's receptionist, a kind old woman with wide, concerned eyes, approached cautiously. "Ms. Carson, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?"

Veronica shook her head and replied dismissively. "No. Just... make sure no one comes in after me. I can't deal with this right now."

As she stepped into the lift, the doors slid shut behind her with a soft ding. She was thankful to be the only one in the lift, as she didn't think she could take on the snarky comments or the gawking a minute longer.

Though, the questions from the reporters continued to echo in her mind. They were relentless and hurtful, each one cutting deeper than the last.

She pressed the button for her floor and leaned against the lift wall, staring at her reflection in the mirrored surface. Her makeup was flawless, but her expression at the moment was anything but composed.

She could already see the headlines in her mind. "Veronica Carson Cornered: The Scandal Deepens." "Mastermind or Scapegoat?"

Her phone buzzed in her bag, and she reluctantly pulled it out, expecting another call from her publicist. Instead, it was a notification: another article about the fallout from the Hollywood Tribune scandal.

She hesitated before opening it, her finger hovering over the button that would take her to the site. But curiosity got the better of her, and she tapped the link.

The article was brutal, dissecting her involvement and speculating on whether she had fabricated her claims or had been manipulated by someone else.

It included photos of her leaving Linda Carver's office months earlier, a detail that had apparently gone unnoticed until now.

It was surely the work of that slimy snake, Langston, seeing that the truth was already out. He most likely had stopped the measures he had put in place to keep such information from leaking.

Her grip on the phone tightened as anger and frustration boiled within her. 'Damn Linda and fu* that beady-eyed motherfu***. They got me into this mess, and now they've left me to die in this ditch.'

Before this incident, she was a random small-time actress who barely got any role with dialogues, but after what had come to pass, she knew that if she had been excommunicated from the Hollywood industry.

It seems like she had truly underestimated the kind of power Alex had come to possess in just a few years since Michael's passing.

From what her friend told her, the order hadn't even come from Alex himself, it was the long list of friends he had made over the years—directors, actors, screenwriters, media agencies, etc. they made it very clear that they wanted nothing to do with her on acting projects they will be working on.

She knew that something of this sort could happen to her, but she was in a jam and really needed the money, it had been this desperation that bastard Langston had taken advantage of.

And the worst thing about the situation wasn't her ban but rather the failure of her task, she had only gotten half the payment.

She had been told that she would get the other half a month after the attack, if everything went according to plan. But now, as things were, she wouldn't be able to raise enough money even if she were to sell all her possessions.

The lift dinged, and the doors opened onto her floor. She stepped out with a dejected look on her face, the echo of her heels against the hardwood floors the only sound.

She dreaded as she waited for the other shoe to drop. Alex, for some odd reason, hadn't sued her yet for defamation, she knew he must hate her guts for turning his friend against him and manipulating him.

As she reached the door to her flat, she was surprised to see an old matronly cleaning lady. She was surprised because the floor her flat was on was only cleaned every Thursday, 6 am, and it is 6 pm on a Sunday currently.

She felt goosebumps on her skin when she made eye contact with the lady.

"Ah, Ms. Veronica, came back from your grocery run?" Her heart thudded in her chest as she felt something was wrong. 'Was this lady here to kill her?' She asked herself, feeling scared for her life.

"Please, take a breath; I mean you no harm; you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I am just here to deliver a package." She said as she reached into the trolley of cleaning supplies and took out a package wrapped in brown paper.

"Take it; this is the last act of kindness from my boss." Hearing her say that, made her finally connect the dots that she was one of Alex's. When she reached over to take the thing being offered, the lady did not let go and only stared at her coldly as she stepped closer and whispered in her ear.

But this time with a voice that was unmistakable, that of a man's.

"Do not take this act of kindness as a sign of his weakness that you can exploit, because if you ever dare to come after him again, then I promise you won't be able to bear the consequences of your actions."

She felt like a deer with its neck being grabbed onto by a vicious jackal that was giving her an ultimatum instead of killing her because Alex decided to spare her life.

Her heart was beating faster than it had ever before; she couldn't even open her mouth to call out for help, let alone answer the 𝚠̶𝚘̶𝚖̶𝚊̶𝚗̶ man in front of her.

All she could manage was a hesitant nod of her head, and the man finally let go of the package and stepped back.

An act that made her sigh in relief as he smiled kindly and spoke again, but his voice changed back to that of an old woman, the kind that would feel natural on the disguise he was wearing.

He gave one last parting nod and quietly left while gently pushing the trolley towards the elevator; his posture, and gait while walking felt so natural that if she hadn't heard him speak to her in his real voice, she wouldn't have ever known that he was actually a man in disguise. 

As for the thought of reporting him to the security of the building, it did come to her, but she quickly waved it off as she didn't want to offend Alex any further than she already had.

She felt stupid and naive, because she had always thought of him as a kind fool who was just a sheep who would eventually be slaughtered by the wolves when the time came.

But this encounter had revealed to her that the one she had mistaken for a sheep was a tiger, an apex predator whom she should've never crossed paths with.

-------

The man in disguise was Lucian Gray, or the Jackal. He was making his way to his nondescript sedan; after he got in, he drove to an underground parking lot and checked his surroundings.

After making sure the area was clear, he took off his disguise and stored it in a hidden compartment under his seat.

Done with changing into his usual attire, he left a message for Alex about the successful completion of the mission.

-------

After she stepped inside, Veronica felt the weight of the world pressing down on her. The paparazzi, the public scrutiny, the endless speculation—it was suffocating. But even more than that was Alex's last gift; after tearing open the package, she found that it was cash—a lot of it.

It was more than enough to cover the expenses for the operation that drove her to her earlier desperation.

For the first time, she felt a flicker of regret. And not for what she'd done, but against whom she had done it, she felt ashamed of being dragged into something so reckless and destructive.

She tossed her bag onto the couch and sank down beside it, staring at the ceiling. The question that haunted her now wasn't whether she could fix her reputation—it was whether she would ever escape the shadow of Alex Masters.

She owed him too much, the weight of kindness in the face of her deplorable act weight on her soul.

---------

The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room as Alex lay on his back, one arm draped across Catherine's bare shoulders. Her head rested against his chest, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns across his skin.

The quiet hum of the night surrounded them, broken only by the sound of their steady breathing.

Catherine tilted her head up, her gaze meeting Alex's. "Alex, I don't get it," she began softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and disbelief; to this he only hummed questioningly in response.

"You could've easily sued Veronica. After everything she did—the lies, the scandal, dragging your name through the mud—you had every right."

Alex let out a deep sigh, his fingers brushing gently through her hair as he stared at the ceiling. "I thought about it," he admitted, his voice steady but tinged with weariness.

"Hell, my lawyers were practically foaming at the mouth for a chance to tear her apart in court."

"Then why didn't you?" Catherine asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

Her eyes searched his face, her expression caught between incredulity and doubt. "She caused you so much trouble, Alex. Most people would've taken her to court without a second thought."

Alex's lips curled into a faint, wistful smile. "Because she wasn't alone in this, Cat. She has a kid—a little boy. It was for his sake that I let her go with just a stern warning."

Catherine's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "A kid? I didn't know that."

"Not just any kid," Alex said, his voice softening. "He's Michael's. His name is Alex; he's named.. after me."

Catherine blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. "Michael... your Michael?" she asked cautiously.

Alex nodded. "Before Michael passed, he made her promise not to change the boy's name, no matter what happened. And despite everything—her venom, her fangs—she kept that promise."

"She takes care of him, Cat. Loves him in a way I didn't expect a woman of her nature ever could, but maybe the kid brings out what little humanity she had left in that little black heart of hers."

Catherine frowned, leaning closer. "How can you be so sure?"

A small, almost rueful laugh escaped Alex's lips. "I had her watched," he admitted without hesitation. "Surveilled, actually. I wanted to know how she treated him. If she was abusing him or neglecting him... I needed to know if I had to get CPS or Michael's parents involved."

Catherine's eyes widened, a mix of shock and understanding crossing her face. "And what did you find?"

Alex exhaled slowly, his gaze distant. "Despite being a selfish bitch who thrives on chaos, she truly loves that boy. She's careful with him, protective even."

"I've seen her cancel meetings to pick him up from school, spend hours helping him with homework, and shield him from the worst of this circus. For all her flaws, she's a good mother."

Catherine studied him for a moment, her hand resting gently on his chest. "So you let it go—for the sake of that little Alex."

— To be Continued...

{2,663 words}

{TRL: This is the new Hollywood story that has been bouncing around in my head. I really need to get this out, so here's another chapter.

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