Kristen's performance was so compelling that Director Hong forgot he'd been leaning toward casting Grace as Leng Yue.
"Sorry, but Miss Liang is the better fit for Leng Yue," he decided almost without hesitation. "Let's work together another time."
He patted Kristen's shoulder. "Keep it up. I'm really looking forward to your Leng Yue."
Kristen smiled and nodded. "You can count on it, Director."
Director Hong had to leave for another engagement and told her to see a doctor for her hand before heading out.
Grace's eyes misted with grievance. "Kristen, why do you have to fight me for everything…"
Smack!
Before she could finish, Kristen raised her hand and slapped her hard.
Grace clutched the side of her face, turning with a stunned look.
"You thought locking me in the restroom would stop my audition, and Leng Yue would fall into your lap?" Kristen's voice was cool, disgust simmering in her eyes. "Grace, you don't deserve it."
Grace sobbed in protest. "Kristen, you've misunderstood. It wasn't me—ah…"
Kristen had no intention of listening. She snatched Grace's bag, pulled out her own phone, and let her gaze cut across with open mockery.
Seeing the evidence in Kristen's hand, Grace bit her lip and kept silent.
Kristen tossed the bag at Grace's feet, expression like ice. "This is the last warning. Don't provoke me again. Otherwise, everyone will see exactly how you've been purring and preening."
Before, the Gu family had to be feared. Now… not necessary.
Parking garage.
Old He had been waiting a while. As soon as Kristen stepped out of the elevator, he hurried to open the back door—only to notice the blood on her hand. "Miss Liang, you're hurt."
Kristen glanced down. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."
She must have nicked herself smashing the lock. In her rush for the audition she hadn't felt it, and while immersed in the scene she'd noticed nothing. Now that Old He mentioned it, a sharp ache bloomed.
"I'll take you to the hospital," Old He said, solemn.
"No need. It's not that serious."
She meant to go home, medicate, and rest a couple of days, but Old He insisted.
Private hospital.
Kristen sat on the bed while Dr. Yan studied the images. "Nothing serious. Don't lift heavy things. Keep the wound dry. Apply the medication daily and rest for two weeks."
"Thank you, doctor." The words eased the knot in her chest.
The door swung open. Jason strode in, expression taut and grim, urgency crackling off him.
Leon followed but stopped at the threshold.
Jason's gaze locked instantly on Kristen's hand—pale fingers wrapped in layer after layer of gauze, the extent of the injury unreadable.
Catching his concern, Dr. Yan cleared his throat and said slowly, "No bone damage. No need to be… so tense."
Kristen glanced at Dr. Yan, a thought stuttering through: Is he misunderstanding something?
As if Jason would be nervous because of her.
Jason shot Dr. Yan a cold, sidelong look, as though reproaching him for talking too much.
Dr. Yan curled his lip. "Alright. Have Leon pick up the meds and you can be discharged."
Fetching medicine hardly required a senior specialist; it was just an excuse to leave the two alone.
Jason stepped to the bedside, his eyes never leaving her injured hand.
His gaze was dark, unreadable.
Kristen felt unsettled under his stare and instinctively tried to tuck her hand away, but Jason caught her wrist first—high-handed, yet threaded with a hint of gentleness. "How did this happen?"
Four simple words, laced with a chill.
( End of Chapter )