Chapter Three

Andrew

It’s been two days since I started to stalk her. As I have installed cameras throughout her house, I can closely observe her every move; every inch of her personality is revealed in front of me. It didn’t take me long to realize that introverts are not what they seem.

It was an easy task for me. She hardly stays at home, only in college and the library. I sent Nathan, an electrician, to her apartment to install the cameras. She was not home at that time, so he asked for the keys from the guard, who was a woman. And that was the most difficult task.

I have met many girls in the industry, and many girls have expressed their interest in me, but to this day, I haven’t found in any of them what I saw in Natasha. Natasha… She's one of a kind.

After setting up the cameras, it became evident that it was not as quiet as she appeared. The activities she engages in within the house would barely be noticed by anyone. However, I have personally witnessed her actions.

She was sitting in the car. Sharp eyes seemed to be staring at me, or perhaps scanning me. I thought I would never see her again. But a few minutes later, I saw her outside my studio’s building. I asked Director Miller; he told me everything.

I was about to converse with her directly, but because of her actions, I had a change of mind. She kicked my Boogie (bugatti), leading to a minor scratch. And she has to reimburse for it.

Beyond what she can imagine.

I instructed him to leave the bouquet in front of Natasha’s house. He has not arrived yet. I wonder whether he went to deliver the bouquet or did he simply adorn himself with the same flowers.

I open the driving side door. About to sit in it.

“Mr. Andrew Edwardson—I mean, sir, wait for me.” Someone call out my name. I shift my attention towards the voice. A man is making his way towards me, a similar face, panting heavily. It’s my secretary. I appointed him three years ago.

A useless man with zero work proficiency.

“Where were you, Nathan?” I inquire, suppressing my anger. “And how many fucking times have I told you to not call me by my name?” I question dryly.

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” I remark, my eyes squinting in aggression. He consistently shows those puppy eyes, attempting to earn some pity and forgive him for being a little late.

“What eyes, sir?” He comments. He surely knows what I’m talking about.

Two days ago I released some advertisements on television. I wasn’t prepared at first. After being forced by Nathan, I had to do it. I released those advertisements before the date. I had no intention behind this.

I am shown in that ad only for one or two seconds, just to show my dead-ass smile. Those advertisements were made only for the investment of the studio. My whole existence and identity are hidden, but still, I did that for the sake of this industry. However, now it’s one arrow, two targets.

I can see her from my laptop screen. The way her sharp eyes are staring at that bouquet. It is fun to see her uneasiness. She has come to know that I am not an ordinary person. She will experience the result of her actions soon.

I followed her everywhere, even outside of her college campus. Though she didn’t seem to care. She was just ignoring me. So I decided to select her proposal.

Through the camera settled on the bouquet, her lovely face comes into focus, capturing her unique features, including her distinctively shaped nose that smells a fragrant floral scent.

Her expression remains composed, indicating that she has become aware of someone following her. Perhaps now she will take the situation seriously. She picks up the bouquet and—what the fuck?

She casually tosses it into the dustbin, displaying a lack of concern about being stalked. This girl doesn’t care that she’s being stalked. Guess my plans are going to waste. I should plan something else.

𖥸

As soon as I enter the office, I instruct Nathan to summon Director Miller. It is his responsibility to decide what should be done with Natasha’s story.

Miller walks into the room, his bald head shining like the moon. His peculiar nose dangles in the air, a sight that could easily provoke laughter.

"Sir, you missed me?” He questions. Why would I miss you? You are not my wife. But before I can even ask the question, he swiftly responds, “The budget and characters are ready.” It seems answering my questions here is as easy as drawing water from a well.

Well.

“Do you genuinely want to work on this project?” He asks hesitantly, lowering his eyes. His voice filled with curiosity and perhaps a hint of insecurity.

“I know everything,” I interject. “I am well aware of what the story is about,” I fiddle with the pen on the table. He seems to calm down upon hearing my response. I’m not the CEO or creator but the producer of this studio; it depends on me to determine whether this project will cause profit or loss. I am well aware that there will be some significant losses.

I’m well aware of what I’m doing, and I don’t think it would be a huge loss. Yet I am even willing to lose myself to obtain that girl.

At this moment, vivid images of Natasha are flashing in my mind. She hopped here and there, dancing with grace, and then gazed at the bouquet and card with wide-eyed wonder and threw it into the dustbin. Her charm is truly eye-catching.

On the other hand, her story seems different, and truly remarkable. She has a lot of talent. Her story proposal was about a dark murder fiction, where a woman is killed, and a lawyer and a police officer handle the case to find the real culprit behind the murder. Her story has only a few episodes, so it would be easy to finish it early.

It is clear in this generation, writers who have a different story, where they do not have a daily fucked-up serial drama about some family member, are immediately rejected. This is why she was being rejected at every appointment.

“Where is the character list?” I inquire. Miller brings me the character list. I can’t ignore the fact that I’m willing to take such immense risks for a girl. It’s a lesson for others to learn from me.

Throwing an axe at one’s own feet.

My mind feels like it’s on the verge of exploding as soon as I read the first name on the list. There is mention of that name that would make anyone’s head spin.

“This man is playing the lead role?” I ask furiously, hoping that Miller would deny me by saying that he isn’t.

“Yes, sir. He is leading the main cast,” He replies politely.

“I instructed you to organize everything promptly, not to select anyone without careful consideration,” I shout.

“I apologize, sir. But he agreed easily, and he didn’t even discuss the financial aspects much,” Millerresponds. It’s not about money; it’s about the girl. And I am aware of why he agreed.

After so many years, this man will cross paths with me once again. Once more, he will become my rival. But this time, I won’t allow him to steal my girl. Natasha is mine, and I will make sure she remains mine. This time, I won’t let you emerge victorious. Ethan Wilder.