Chapter 7

#A_Dictator

_Vicky_

I went to bed swearing I’d kill Michael Kane in his sleep. I woke up and realized murder would be too kind.

I didn’t think much about it when Michael said he wouldn’t be spending the night in the house last night. I went straight to bed when I got back upstairs. Helen had already bathed Gracie and lulled her to sleep, so there wasn’t anything left to do.

I was tired and needed the sleep too. Having verbal fights with Michael is exhausting. Thank goodness he didn’t bring his beast of a fiancée, or I’d die before my time.

The house was empty the next day except for Helen, who was cleaning up the kitchen when I came down. I had my phone in my hand, and I was looking around for signs of Michael, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

My phone rang as I walked toward the kitchen, desperate for some coffee.

I paused and looked at the caller ID. It was my manager.

“What’s happening?” I asked as soon as I picked up the call and placed the phone to my ear.

“There’s a bit of a problem,” she said. “The script we agreed to create for H&M Entertainment… the project rights have been transferred to another company, and they’re requesting to meet with you personally. They want to review the entire script and change some things.”

“Why? What happened? Why were the production rights handed over to another company? Which company is it, and why do we have to make changes when everything has already been settled?” I asked, confused. Things like that happen in the industry, but it’s never happened to me.

“The production rights were transferred to Stonewall Entertainment. They’re kicking the main actress off the film and giving the role to a rookie,” my manager added.

My breath paused for a sharp moment. I thought I’d heard wrong.

“Did you just say Stonewall Entertainment?” I asked.

I can’t forget or mistake that name for anything in the world.

“Yes. I already told the executives you wouldn’t like this change, but they’re insistent on a meeting with you to smooth things over.”

Stonewall belongs to the Kane Group. It’s one of his successful side endeavors. As a conglomerate heir, he’s involved in basically every business sector in the country.

Stonewall was where my sister Jane signed. They manage big artists and sometimes produce movies themselves. I’ve made it clear to my manager that I would never work with that company for anything, and now here we are.

I felt pissed. “Are they trying to fuck with me or something? They know very well that I don’t do business with Stonewall. Why sign a contract with me only to hand it over to Stonewall? I don’t know much about the law, but I sure know they’re breaching our contract somehow. Tell them I won’t be working with them anymore. They either retain the rights to the movie or find another scriptwriter. If they want me to drag them to court, then I will!” I snapped.

“Miss Smith, please calm down. Just come and speak with them once. Your privacy will be well protected if that’s what you’re afraid of. Stonewall is willing to triple your pay,” my manager tried to persuade me. I could feel how desperate she was from her voice, but I wasn’t having it.

“Tell them I’ll see them in court if they don’t make things right,” I ended the call with a loud hiss.

Who does Michael Kane think he is, hijacking something I’m working earnestly on and changing it to suit his own goals?

They made a huge mistake trying to hijack this project from my grasp.

I went straight to the kitchen and fetched myself a cup of coffee Helen had fixed for me. As I sat there thinking earnestly over what my manager had just told me, there was a loud knock on the door.

I paused and raised my brow.

Why is the bastard here so early?

I ignored the door, but the unwanted visitor persisted.

I dropped the unfinished cup of coffee on the table and went to check who was knocking. I figured it wasn’t Michael, because he’d just waltz in and out of the house without anyone’s permission.

And I was right. It wasn’t Michael at the door. Instead, it was a strange-looking elderly man in a nice suit.

“Good morning. May I help you?” I asked with a smile.

The man cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

“I’m the supervisor. The lawyer sent me over for a routine inspection. My name is John Taylor,” he introduced himself.

I gasped softly as fear gripped me.

Just when Michael decided to spend the night in his mansion taking care of his little princess, this man shows up early in the morning for an inspection.

The man offered his hand for a shake, and I nervously took it.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Victoria Smith,” I said and shook his hand.

“Aren’t you a little early?” I asked with a light laugh as I ushered him into the house.

“Well… there’s no set time for me to come around. For the routine check to be effective, I have to come around unannounced,” the old man replied with a chuckle.

I could feel sweat forming on my forehead.

The man looked around.

“Where is Mr. Kane? And the baby?” the supervisor asked.

I swallowed hard, trying to think of a good excuse. I needed to salvage my situation one way or the other, or I’d be dead meat.

Michael Kane, you bastard! I cussed in my head.

“The child is still asleep. But please come inside and have a cup of coffee. I’ll go fetch them,” I replied, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.

I let the man into the sitting room and offered him a seat before dashing to the kitchen in a hurry.

Luckily, Helen had already made another cup of coffee, so I didn’t need to do much.

“When did Michael say he’d be back?” I asked Helen.

Before she could answer, I heard voices coming from outside.

I turned around and left with the glass of coffee. I needed to check who was talking, because the old man couldn’t possibly be speaking to himself.

I paused for about five seconds as soon as I got to the living room.

Michael was seated opposite the old man, and Gracie was on his lap.

They chatted away like old friends, and the little girl beside them was so obedient I felt confused.

What was going on?

My presence didn’t go unnoticed.

Michael turned to look at me.

“Oh, there she is,” he said with a feigned smile.

I rolled my eyes and made my way toward them.

I set the coffee down on the table and sat beside Gracie and Michael.

Gracie hugged me and clung to me like a leech.

“There’ll be no need for coffee now that I’ve confirmed what I came here to do, but I do appreciate your welcoming gesture,” the old man said with a smile and stood up, adjusting his tie.

“I insist you have some. I already made it. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste, sir,” I said with a forced smile.

It seemed the man was more interested in catching us off guard when we were defaulting.

A few minutes ago, he seemed eager to check out the home. Now he was more eager to leave. And Michael—where had he appeared from? I could swear his presence was absent in the house this morning.

“If you insist,” the man smiled and sat back down.

“Please call me John,” he added before picking up his cup of coffee.

“I’ll leave you two to chat. I need to get the baby cleaned up,” I muttered and excused myself, taking little Gracie with me.

I wanted to escape, and Gracie was the perfect excuse.

I left the two men sitting coldly in the living room while I took Gracie so I could give her a bath as planned.

I dropped her on the bed and checked my phone. I had several text messages from my manager begging me to check my mail and reconsider a meeting with the representatives from Stonewall Entertainment. I didn’t want to reply, but I’d been grieving and feeling so down that I hadn’t had enough time to check my mail or work on my drafts. I’d been unproductive.

Now that the supervisor had come, we wouldn’t be expecting him for at least the next twenty-four hours, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go out, would it?

I dropped my phone and proceeded to bathe Gracie. Afterward, I got ready and put on something nice: a black pair of capris, a white tank top, a black blazer, and black pumps.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me I looked good, because I knew I did.

It would be my first time going out of this house in hours, and I needed something that would make me feel good about myself. I styled my hair in a low ponytail and put on some jewelry from my late best friend’s collection, then left the room.

I couldn’t bring any clothes with me. Connie and I are the same body type and size, so we often share clothes. Anytime I’d come over to her place, I didn’t need to bring extra clothes—I could just use hers. Although we had quite different fashion styles, there were still a few things I could steal from her wardrobe.

When I got downstairs, John was gone, and only Michael sat on the couch with a tablet in his hands. He had his cell phone pinned to his ear and seemed to be having a conversation with someone.

“Helen!” I called out loudly, and this caught Michael’s attention.

He stopped talking for about five seconds and stared at me. His gaze was sharp, and his eyes didn’t blink or move away from me, as if he were taking a mental picture of what I looked like. I started to feel nervous.

I avoided his gaze. Helen soon came rushing out of the kitchen.

I handed Gracie over to her and asked her to feed the child well.

Michael was still looking at me. I wasn’t looking back, but I could tell his stone-cold eyes were pinned on me.

I wanted to hurry and disappear from the house before he decided to act like the dictator he is and try to stop me.

I had barely taken five steps toward the door when he called my full name: “Victoria Smith.”

I paused but didn’t turn back.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.