Chapter 139

Aria Bennett’s fingers trembled slightly as she held the script—its weight far heavier than she had anticipated.

Director Alistair Grant at the helm, with the legendary actor Damian Cross joining the cast—this golden combination was nothing short of explosive in the industry. Once the news broke, the entire entertainment world would be shaken.

"Have a seat, Aria." Director Alistair adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, studying her for a moment.

Aria wore a simple cheongsam that accentuated her delicate curves perfectly. The director nodded inwardly—her figure would indeed carry the elaborate costumes required for the role.

"You flatter me." She sat gracefully, her fingertips lightly brushing the script’s title page.

This was a film she had never heard of in her past life. Yet Alistair and Damian had been quietly preparing for it all this time.

"Tell me your thoughts on the female lead," Alistair said, handing her a cup of tea.

Aria took a sip, her gaze deepening.

"She’s a woman living behind masks," she said softly but firmly. "By day, she’s a discarded wife, trampled upon. By night, she’s a queen who dominates the business world."

A spark of excitement flashed in Alistair’s eyes. Exactly what he wanted.

"Come, let’s do the audition." He stood abruptly.

In the courtyard next door, the crew was already waiting. The makeup artist, Nora Finch, stepped forward, her eyes lingering on Aria’s face.

"Your complexion is flawless, Ms. Bennett," she said with a smile, leading the way. "Today, we’ll give you a vintage look."

Two hours later.

Aria emerged in embroidered slippers, her hair pinned low, her brows carrying a hint of sorrow—the perfect image of a forsaken noblewoman.

"Action!"

Before the camera, Aria’s eyes reddened, but she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall. Trembling, she accepted the divorce letter, then turned away with her back straight.

"Cut!" Alistair slammed the table in excitement. "That’s the energy I wanted!"

The second scene was even more breathtaking.

Now in an emerald-green cheongsam, her lips a bold red, Aria reclined lazily on a leather sofa, a slender cigarette holder between her fingers.

"You want this shipment, Young Marshal?" She smirked. "Then pay more."

Damian, playing the young warlord, narrowed his eyes. The tension between them crackled in the air.

When the final shot ended, the room fell silent.

"Perfect!" Alistair was the first to applaud. "Aria, you’re the leading lady I’ve been searching for."

Damian walked over, a gentle smile in his eyes. "I told you she wouldn’t disappoint."

Aria exhaled quietly in relief. She knew—her time had finally come.