Chapter 80

Chapter 80
Sebastian's POV

The set was bustling, a constant hum of movement and noise that seemed to energize everyone but me. I leaned against a corner of the production area, sipping from a paper cup that claimed to be coffee but tasted like burnt regret. I wasn’t here for the caffeine, though. I was here for Ezra.

My brother thrived in chaos. He moved across the set like a conductor in a symphony of drama, charm oozing from every word and smile. To anyone else, he was the epitome of a confident showrunner, keeping his ship steady. To me, though, there was something beneath the surface, a tension I couldn’t ignore.

I’d been keeping an eye on him for weeks now, ever since the rumours about Olivia and Zoya had spiralled out of control. Ezra’s response had been too measured, too calm. And the way he casually mentioned how much the buzz had helped the show’s ratings? It didn’t sit right with me.

“Sebastian, you’re practically a fixture here these days,” Ezra’s voice broke through my thoughts as he strolled over, a clipboard in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Can’t help it,” I said with a shrug, keeping my tone light. “This place is fascinating.”

Ezra smirked, gesturing toward the chaos behind him. “Fascinating isn’t the word I’d use, but sure. So, what’s your excuse for hanging around today?”

“Just wanted to see how things were going. And, you know, keep an eye on my famous brother.”

Ezra laughed, but there was an edge to it. “I’m hardly famous, Seb. And things are going fine, thanks for asking.”

“Fine,” I echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Despite all the... extra attention lately?”

Ezra’s expression didn’t falter, but his grip on the clipboard tightened ever so slightly. “Rumours are a part of the business, Seb. You know that. It’s unfortunate, but we’re managing.”

“Managing,” I repeated, watching him carefully. “That’s one way to put it.”

Ezra’s smile thinned, and for a moment, I thought he was going to call me out. Instead, he waved toward the monitors. “Anyway, I’ve got a dozen things to oversee. Let’s catch up later, yeah?”

“Sure,” I said, but my gaze lingered on him as he walked away, his shoulders just a little too stiff.

I found Ava in the break area later, nursing a tea and scrolling through her phone. She looked up as I approached, her usual sharp expression softening just slightly.

“Sebastian,” she greeted, setting her phone down. “Surprised to see you here again.”

“You and Ezra keep saying that like it’s weird for me to visit,” I said with a smirk, sliding into the seat across from her.

“It is weird,” she shot back, though there was no real bite in her tone.

I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “So... how’s Olivia holding up?”

Ava’s lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s managing. Elijah being out of the ICU has helped, but... she’s tired. This whole mess has been draining her.”

I nodded slowly, hesitating before asking, “And Ezra? Has he said anything to you about the rumours?”

Ava’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Just curious,” I said casually, though my heart was pounding. “He seems... awfully calm about everything. Like he’s not as concerned as he should be.”

Ava didn’t respond right away, her gaze searching mine. Finally, she sighed. “Ezra’s always been good at compartmentalizing. He doesn’t let things rattle him. But...”

“But what?” I pressed.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s been spending a lot of time managing this situation behind the scenes, talking to PR, making sure things don’t blow up more than they already have. It’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely helping or...”

“Or making sure the chaos stays just controlled enough to benefit him?” I finished.

Her silence was answer enough.

As I walked away, my mind raced. Ava’s hesitation only fueled the doubts swirling in my head. If even she wasn’t sure about Ezra’s motives, what did that mean for the rest of us?

I lingered near the production area, intending to grab my things and leave, when I caught sight of something unusual. Across the room, Ezra stood with Anthony, their postures tense, their voices low but animated.

From where I stood, I couldn’t make out their words, but their body language said everything. Anthony gestured sharply, his face flushed with frustration, while Ezra remained still, his arms crossed and jaw tight.

It was the first time I’d seen Ezra drop the calm, easygoing persona he so carefully maintained. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t charming his way out of the situation. If anything, he looked angry.

Anthony turned abruptly, throwing his hands up in exasperation before storming off. Ezra stayed where he was, running a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath.

I stayed rooted to the spot, my mind spinning.

Maybe Ezra wasn’t as composed as he wanted everyone to believe.

Olivia's POV

The bathroom mirror reflected a face I barely recognized. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes red and swollen from crying, and no amount of retouching could hide the dark circles beneath them.

"Get it together, Olivia," I whispered, gripping the sink as if it could steady me. "You've handled worse than this."

But the words felt hollow.

The tears threatened to spill over again, and I bit my lip, trying to push back the flood. It wasn't just the exhaustion from Elijah's recovery or the suffocating hospital air—it was the emptiness that Zoya's absence left behind.

She hadn't called. She hadn't come back.

She gave up, the thought whispered cruelly.

I'd pushed her away so many times—out of fear, out of duty—and now she was gone. Maybe she'd finally decided I wasn't worth the trouble. And maybe she was right.

A shuddering breath escaped me, and I wiped at my eyes again, furious at my own weakness. "You've got this," I told myself. "You always do."

Forcing my tears back, I reached into my bag for my makeup kit and touched up my face, smoothing away the streaks of mascara and the rawness around my nose. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, my mask was back in place—flawless, polished, untouchable.