Chapter 4
The office door opened with a soft click.
Franklin pushed the door open.
The chairman of Orion Pictures looked up first, smiling warmly. "Ah, Mr Franklin. Come in, come in."
Noah Ashford turned at the words.
Brown eyes met hazel, and the room seemed to still.
Up close, Noah was even more striking. His features were sharp, but softened by the calmness he carried, like a man who never needed to raise his voice to be heard. The sunlight behind him outlined the straight lines of his suit, the smooth precision of a man who lived in control.
He wasn't beautiful in the same striking, dangerous way Damien was. Damien's presence consumed everything, dragged all light into his orbit. Noah was the opposite—he radiated it. Calm, steady, impossible to ignore.
He wore a dark suit with a simple black shirt beneath, no tie, the fabric perfectly tailored to his frame. A gold pen rested between his fingers, which he tapped against a stack of scripts on the desk. His expression was composed, serious, yet not cold. When his eyes lifted from the papers, they were deep brown—warm, but sharp enough to cut.
The chairman laughed lightly beside him, but Noah didn't return it. He only nodded politely, his focus already shifting to Franklin.
Noah studied him in silence, his gaze sweeping from head to toe—not with Damien's hungry possession, but with a quiet, measured assessment, the way a sculptor might study a block of marble.
"You're Franklin Eddie," Noah finally said. His voice was low, smooth, carrying a calm authority that filled the room without effort. "I've watched your work."
Franklin's pulse hammered. "Th-thank you, Director Ashford."
A faint smile touched Noah's lips, small but devastating. "We'll see if you deserve this role. My films aren't easy."
"I don't want easy," Franklin said before he could stop himself. His voice was steady, firmer than he felt inside.
For a moment, Noah held his gaze. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Good."
The chairman clapped his hands together, breaking the heavy silence. "Well then, Director, Franklin—shall we discuss the script?"
But Franklin barely heard him. His chest was still tight, his mind echoing with the sound of Noah Ashford's voice, deeper now, sharper than it had been years ago—but still carrying the same weight that had once saved him.
-----
The door shut behind him, and Franklin finally exhaled. Mason hovered at his side, opening his mouth to speak—
"There you are."
The sharp voice cut across the hall.
Franklin turned, startled. His breath caught.
Sophia.
She strode toward them, her heels sharp against the floor, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, a sleek suitcase still rolling behind her like she hadn't even stopped at home.
"You—" Franklin blinked. "You were supposed to be on vacation."
"I was." Sophia's eyes narrowed as she stopped in front of him. "Then I heard you got the male lead in Noah Ashford's new film. Do you think I'd sip cocktails while my client walks into the lion's den?"
Mason shifted awkwardly. "I—I've been keeping things under control…"
"Yes, and thank you for that," Sophia said briskly, before turning back to Franklin. Her gaze softened slightly. "But from here on, I'm back. You're not handling this alone."
She looked at the scarf on his neck, surprised, Franklin was never into such fashion, she looked at Mason and hit her. She adjusted his scarf with quick, precise fingers, lowering her voice. "And for God's sake, keep your neck clean next time. If someone had noticed—"
Franklin flushed, glancing away. "I know."
Sophia sighed. Then, softer: "Good. Because this role? It could change everything. Don't let anyone—anything—ruin it for you."
Franklin's chest tightened at the unspoken name. Damien.
He nodded.
Sophia's heels clicked as she walked ahead, already pulling out her phone. "Now, let's prepare. We have work to do."