Chapter 10 Let Them Suffer

"You're finally here, you little lifesaver!" The moment Lila Cross arrived at the film studio, the crew supervisor was already waiting at the gate. He grabbed her hand tightly. "We've got a big job—Sylvia Evans, the second female lead in *Azure City*, specifically requested you as her martial arts stunt double!" "And the pay? Triple your usual rate!" By the time she reached the set, Lila was already made up and hooked onto the wire rig. Everything was ready, but the director still hadn't called "Action." The male stunt double beside her grew impatient. "What are we waiting for?" "For Miss Sylvia Evans." "She said she wants to personally supervise—she's worried this stunt double won't capture the emotion she wants." The assistant director added with admiration, "Miss Evans is truly both beautiful and professional. You people could never measure up in your entire lives!" Lila wanted to laugh. Professional? Sylvia had been in the industry for five years, and every single one of her performances had been shaped by Lila—script analysis, meticulous coaching, everything polished by her. She'd read the *Azure City* script too. In this drama, Sylvia's character suffered multiple defeats later on. Defeat meant taking hits. And that's exactly why Sylvia wanted to supervise in person—she wanted to watch Lila get beaten, live. It was almost laughable. When Lila caught Sylvia and her boyfriend in bed together, she didn't yell or hit them. She just cried and left. Yet Sylvia went to such lengths just to see her suffer. As if *she* were the mistress. Soon, Sylvia arrived. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, fanning herself lazily. "My standards are very high. I'll make this stunt double reshoot until I'm satisfied." The assistant director fawned, "You're truly dedicated!" "Stunt double! Did you hear that? Perform well!" "It's an honor to stand in for Miss Evans!" Lila ignored them. Filming began. She and the male stunt double were old partners. Their choreographed moves flowed smoothly, the footage looking natural and seamless. The assistant director praised, "This stunt double is actually quite good. Miss Evans, your judgment is impeccable!" Sylvia's face darkened. "I'm not satisfied." "Choreography is fake. Make them fight for real." The assistant director froze. For real? That could get someone killed! "I'll cover the medical bills." Sylvia waved her fan idly. "I'm just being responsible for the production." The assistant director quickly relayed the order. "Make them fight for real!" Everyone on set was stunned. This scene was supposed to show the second female lead getting crippled—now they were supposed to actually beat her? The male stunt double felt pity. "Fighting for real is out of the question. Can't you talk some sense into them?" "No need." Lila smiled faintly. "Let her have her way." Sylvia was targeting her. Even if she begged Sylvia now, all she'd get was more humiliation. The contract had already been signed by the supervisor. She had no choice but to perform. Sylvia knew exactly that, which was why she dared to act so recklessly. Besides, she was a professional stunt double. What was a little injury? Lila was knocked down again and again, each time rising back up. By the end, the bruises on her body were so bad that no amount of concealer could hide them. "Miss Evans, if this continues, someone's going to die." The assistant director was drenched in cold sweat. Only when the filming fell dangerously behind schedule and the main director exploded in anger did Sylvia finally stop tormenting her. Expressionless, Lila changed clothes and walked out of the set. Just outside, she spotted Charles Jackson standing by the entrance. He wore sunglasses and a baseball cap, his face completely covered. He must be here to pick up Sylvia, right? She walked past him and strode toward the bus stop. "Lila." Charles called softly. Lila didn't slow down. Charles rushed forward and grabbed her arm. "Lila, why are you avoiding me?" Lila shrugged him off without turning back. "Why avoid something I can't even see?" "Lila!" Charles gritted his teeth and forcibly turned her shoulders toward him. "After all these years between us, is this really how you want it to be?" "Sylvia and I are truly in love. Can't you just let us be together?" Lila clenched her fists tightly at her sides. Let them be together? How could he say that to her face? "As if I could stop you even if I wanted to?" Lila sneered. "You're practically the next Best Actor, with love and career both on the rise." "Don't drag me, a mere stunt double, into your world. It'd ruin your image." With that, she turned and walked away. Charles blocked her again. "Lila, is this really necessary?" "Charles, I told you—Lila wouldn't care about our friendship." Sylvia had appeared behind them at some point, sighing softly. All traces of her earlier arrogance gone, she approached Charles with delicate steps and leaned into his arms. She gazed at Lila with pity. "Lila, I never imagined this would hurt you so much that you'd actually marry that old, ugly man—Mr. Quinn, who's rumored to have driven two fiancées to their deaths." Lila laughed coldly. Sylvia was indeed her creation—her acting skills were top-notch! "Lila." Charles looked at her with disappointment. "The Golden Bull Awards are in a month. Unless something unexpected happens, Sylvia and I will win Best Actress and Best Actor." "Our value will multiply several times. If you reconcile with us and continue coaching us, I might consider rescuing you from that terrible man." Rescue? Lila laughed. "My husband is handsome, my son is obedient, and my family is happy. Why would I need rescuing?" Charles frowned. "Stop lying to yourself. Everyone knows Mr. Quinn was disfigured five years ago—he's a monster." Sylvia sighed. "As long as you keep helping us, even if Mr. Quinn eventually kills you, we'll at least give you a proper burial." Their act, one playing the hero and the other the victim, made Lila want to vomit. In the end, they just couldn't let go of their free labor. She scoffed. "Who said my husband is ugly? He's just low-key." "Some jealous fool must've started that rumor, and you both believed it?" "And you dare call my husband a monster?" She looked Charles up and down, a flicker of contempt in her eyes. "You? You're not even worthy to carry my husband's shoes!" "You—!" Before Charles could finish, Lila cut him off. "My husband is handsome, rich, and utterly devoted to me—nothing like certain people who get lured into bed at the first chance." She lifted her chin proudly. "I suggest you shut up. Otherwise, if my husband hears this, given how obsessed he is with me, he'll make your life a living hell." She said it with a straight face—after all, Adrian Quinn couldn't hear her. Then, without sparing the two of them another glance, she strode away. Sylvia glared at her retreating back, teeth clenched. "Charles made the right choice. You're not just unworthy of him—you're delusional!" Lila paused for a moment. Then, without turning back, she left. Sylvia nestled into Charles's arms, feigning sorrow. "Today, Lila deliberately ruined the stunt, slowing down the entire production..." Charles held her tightly, full of sympathy. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Don't stoop to her level." * Across the street, a luxurious Bentley was parked. "Sir, the kids asked you to come pick up the madam." Locke White glanced at Lila's retreating figure. "The madam has already left. Should we..." "Follow." From the back seat, a cold, composed man turned a page of his document. "And investigate those two who slandered me." Locke nodded. "What are your plans?" Adrian Quinn elegantly picked up his pen and made a note on the file. "Didn't the madam just say? Make their lives a living hell."