Chapter 16

Sienna's POV

I sat on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest, scrolling aimlessly through the endless stream of hateful comments online. The words blurred together—"gold digger," "fraud," "washed-up actress." Each one felt like a dagger, sharp and precise, aimed straight at the fragile parts of me I’d been trying so hard to keep together.

The tears came without warning, hot and relentless. I wiped at my face angrily, frustrated with myself for letting them get to me. I wasn’t supposed to care, but how could I not?

As I sobbed, my phone buzzed again. I almost ignored it, expecting more misery, but something about the notification caught my eye. It was a link to Max’s interview.

For a moment, I hesitated. I didn’t know if I had the energy to hear more lies about myself, even if they were coming from Max. But curiosity won, and I clicked on it.

“… Sienna and I are in love,” Max was saying, his voice calm and measured. “Everything else is just noise.”

I snorted bitterly.

Love. Yeah, right.

But then he said something that stopped me cold.

“We met years ago, actually. Back when she was still in acting school.”

Acting school? My brow furrowed. What was he talking about?

He went on, spinning a story about a chance meeting at a charity event and how he’d been drawn to my passion and drive. It was convincing, almost too convincing, but the mention of acting school tugged at something buried deep in my memory.

I closed the video, my mind racing. Could we have met before?

The memories came slowly at first, like fragments of an old film reel. I was younger then, maybe seventeen or eighteen, working as a cleaner in the acting school where I’d desperately wanted to study.

I could see the hallways in my mind—dimly lit and always smelling faintly of floor polish. I worked long hours, scrubbing, cleaning, and dreaming of a day when I wouldn’t have to wear that awful gray uniform.

One day, I’d been polishing the wooden staircase when a group of wealthy visitors walked in. They barely noticed me as they passed, except for one man—a tall, arrogant type with too much cologne.

“You missed a spot,” he sneered, pointing to a perfectly clean patch on the banister.

I ignored him and kept working, but he wasn’t done.

“Do they hire anyone off the streets now?” he added, loud enough for everyone to hear.

My face burned with embarrassment, but I said nothing. I couldn’t afford to lose the job. But when he nudged me with his foot, spilling the bucket of soapy water all over the floor, I snapped.

“Hey!” I shouted, standing up.

“What’s your problem?” he said, smirking.

Before I could respond, another voice cut in.

“Her problem is you.”

I turned and saw him—taller than the arrogant visitor, with piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.

“Who the hell are you?” the visitor asked, stepping back.

“Someone who doesn’t have time for idiots,” the man replied coolly. “Now get out of here before I throw you out myself.”

The visitor huffed but didn’t argue, walking off with the rest of his group.

“You okay?” the man asked, turning to me.

I nodded, too stunned to speak.

“Here,” he said, offering me a handkerchief. “You’re shaking.”

I took it hesitantly, mumbling a quiet, “Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” he asked, crouching slightly so we were at eye level.

“S-Sienna,” I stammered.

“Sienna,” he repeated, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nice to meet you.”

Before I could say anything else, a woman appeared, calling his name sharply. He turned, his expression shifting into something unreadable, and followed her out the door.

And just like that, he was gone.

***

I blinked, the memory fading as I returned to the present. My heart raced as I pieced it together.

Could that man have been Max?

That night, when I heard him come back from his office, I waited until he was in the hallway before stepping out of my room.

“Max,” I said, my voice tentative.

He stopped, glancing at me briefly. “What?”

“I saw your interview,” I said, wringing my hands.

“Whatever, you’re welcome.” He replied dryly.

“The part where you said we met at an acting school...” I cut in immediately, catching his attention again. “Did we?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“In acting school,” I repeated, stepping closer. “You said we met there. I think I remember... there was this guy—”

“Stop,” he said, holding up a hand. “What are you getting at, Sienna?”

“I think it was you,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “Years ago, I was working as a maid, and you... you stood up for me.”

He stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he laughed—a low, humorless sound.

“You’ve really convinced yourself of that, haven’t you?” he said, shaking his head.

I frowned. “I’m serious, Max. Was it you?”

“What does it matter?” he said, brushing past me. “It was just a story for the interview, Sienna. Nothing more.”

I grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “So you’re saying we never met before? Not even once?”

He turned to face me fully, his eyes cold. “You think I’d remember some random maid from years ago?”

The words stung, and I let go of his arm, stepping back.

“Don’t make this more ridiculous than it already is,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I said what I needed to say to fix your mess. That’s all.”

I stared at him, feeling the tears welling up again. “Why do you have to be so cruel?”

“Cruel?” he repeated, smirking. “If being honest is cruel, then sure. I’m the villain.”

Without another word, he walked into his room and shut the door, leaving me standing in the hallway, feeling small and stupid.

Perhaps, I had overthought just too much.