Chapter 261

Andrew's ears echoed with Susan's words.

"Mr. Lucas, you're pathetic."

The elevator doors slid shut. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white.

Susan leaned against her apartment door, chest heaving. She pulled out a pill bottle, shook out a black tablet, and swallowed it dry.

Her phone rang sharply.

"Ms. Thompson, Nicole Capra will be at the Imperial Hotel tonight at eight," the private detective said excitedly. "Room 1808. Director Zachary Quinn's suite."

A cold smile curled Susan's lips.

She opened her notebook and quickly jotted down Bianca Quinn's number. The director's wife was notorious—last year, she'd publicly stripped a starlet naked.

The clock struck 7:30.

Susan changed into a black trench coat and pulled on a baseball cap. In the mirror, her eyes gleamed like ice.

Imperial Hotel underground garage.

Nicole stepped out of her van, scanning the area warily. Jenny Keene handed her a keycard. "The director said the script's waiting in his room."

"The press is handled?"

"Relax. This hotel's discreet."

The elevator ascended to the 18th floor. Nicole touched up her lipstick and pushed open the door.

Zachary was already waiting. His greasy hands grabbed her waist. "Darling, this lead role has your name on it."

Meanwhile, Susan dialed Bianca's number.

"Mrs. Quinn, room 1808 at the Imperial. Your husband's entertaining a certain A-list actress right now."

A glass shattered on the other end.

"You'd better not be lying."

Susan hung up, watching from the café across the street. She opened her phone's camera, zooming in on 1808's window.

8:20 PM.

Three black SUVs screeched to a halt at the hotel entrance. Bianca stormed in with a dozen hulking bodyguards—followed by eight paparazzi crews.

When the door burst open, camera flashes lit up the room.

Nicole's scream pierced the hallway.

Susan stopped recording and sipped her coffee. Her phone buzzed—the detective's message: "Video uploaded to all major platforms."

Trending lists exploded instantly.

#NicoleCapraCastingCouch

#ZacharyQuinnAffair

#LucasFianceeScandal

Susan watched the view counts climb, satisfaction flickering in her eyes.

Top floor of Lucas Corporation.

Andrew's phone blew up with notifications. He frowned at the screen—Nicole's disheveled photo filled the display.

"Impossible!" He stood abruptly, papers scattering.

His assistant timidly offered a tablet. "Sir, the livestream is still going..."

On screen, Bianca slammed Nicole's head against the wall. Paparazzi lenses captured every detail.

Andrew grabbed his car keys, face stormy.

Back at her apartment, Susan turned on the TV. Every channel covered the scandal.

Water ran in the bathroom.

She studied her reflection—color finally returning to her pale face.

"This is just the beginning, Nicole."