Lights Camera Action

His Trophy Wife, The Apex Predator

Eydie Pfefferle

My husband of three years, Arthur Vanderbilt, came home smelling of his mistress's perfume and threw divorce papers on our marble kitchen island. He demanded I sign away all rights to our assets for a five-million-dollar "severance," calling me a leech his family picked up from the suburbs to solve a temporary PR crisis. When I refused and demanded my four percent equity in the Vanderbilt Group, he and his mistress, Serena, launched a vicious smear campaign. They planted false stories on Wall Street forums, accusing me of laundering money for an Eastern European crime syndicate. They tried to force my hand with a check for five hundred million, which I tore up and threw in his face. To them, I was just a trophy wife they could easily discard. They had no idea that the "leech" they so despised was the anonymous investor who had secretly bailed out their entire company three years ago, saving them from bankruptcy. Their final move was to hire an actress to publicly accuse me of fraud in the lobby of the most powerful law firm in Manhattan. They didn't realize I was there to retain the firm's most ruthless lawyer. After security threw them out, I looked my replacement in the eye and made her a promise. "Prepare for an FBI probe into perjury and corporate defamation."

Modern Revenge

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Lena Carter had dreamed of this moment her whole life.

The warm glow of the audition room lights, the script in her hands, the silent expectation from a panel of directors-this was her shot. After years of struggling through small roles and commercial gigs, she had finally landed a final callback for the lead role in Ever After, a major Hollywood romance set to take over the box office.

And then, he walked in.

Noah Sinclair.

Hollywood's golden boy. A-list actor. Serial heartbreaker. Walking ego in a perfectly tailored jacket.

Lena barely had time to react before he strolled past her, oozing the effortless charm that made casting directors fall at his feet. He glanced at her-no, through her-and then smirked.

"New?" His voice was smooth, arrogant.

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

He tilted his head, as if trying to place her. "Haven't seen you around before. You must be new."

"I'm not new." She folded her arms, her heart pounding, though she refused to let it show. "And even if I was, does it matter?"

Noah chuckled, sliding into the chair across from her with the confidence of a man who already had the role. "Relax, rookie. I was just making conversation."

Rookie?

Lena clenched her jaw. She'd worked her ass off for this audition, clawed her way up from coffee-fetching assistant to standing in this very room. And this guy-this actor-thought he could dismiss her with a single word?

"Save your charm for the cameras," she shot back, flipping open her script.

A slow, amused grin spread across his face. "Feisty. This should be fun."

Before Lena could fire back, the casting director, a stern woman with sharp glasses, walked in. "Alright, let's get started. We'll be testing chemistry today. Noah, Lena-you're up first."

Lena froze.

Wait. She was reading with him?

Noah stood, stretching lazily before flashing her a wink. "Try to keep up, rookie."

Lena's blood boiled.

Oh, she'd keep up. She'd outshine him.

She followed him to the center of the room, where the casting director handed them both a scene. Lena scanned it quickly-it was the moment the two lead characters, former lovers, reunited after years apart. It was raw, emotional. A gut punch of a scene. And she had to deliver it with him.

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