Chapter 1
It was the height of summer, July to be precise. The sun blazed overhead, the ground radiated heat, and the air felt thick with restlessness. Crew members of the film set were soaked in sweat, a small fan whirring nearby, blowing out nothing but hot air. The leading actress was in the midst of a scene, while the director, Vincent Wray, along with other staff, focused intently on the action unfolding before them, each face reflecting the annoyance of the stifling heat. In a quieter corner of the set, shaded by trees, there was a lighter, cooler spot. Guinevere Fairchild and Mabel Brightleaf were perched on a couple of chairs, poring over their scripts. Guinevere was fully engrossed, her attention unyielding. With her defined profile and long lashes casting delicate shadows, she was the picture of elegance, sunlight dancing lightly on her features. The scorching summer heat did nothing to distract her. Mabel, on the other hand, was struggling to remain patient. The oppressive weather made her restless, and she flipped through the pages of the script vigorously, the rustling sound cutting through the air. But it seemed her noise only served to reinforce Guinevere's focus. "Is it just me or is it hotter than the surface of the sun?" Mabel complained, her brow glistening. "At this rate, we’ll just melt away before they call for a break." Guinevere chuckled lightly, her mind still on the script as she replied, "You know how it is—if we want the role, we have to endure a little heat." Mabel sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair. "I swear, I could fry an egg on this asphalt. And aren’t you a bit tired of playing the supporting role?" Guinevere shook her head, casting a glance at her friend. "Every role counts, Mabel. But I’m not going to lie; I did hope for a lead this time around." Mabel nudged her playfully. "And when you finally shine, remember who cheered you on!" Just then, a loud cheer erupted from across the set. Both women turned their attention as they witnessed Sebastian Ashford, the rising star, strutting down the red carpet with flair, his charming smile captivating the crowd. Mabel sighed wistfully, "There he goes, another day, another swoon fest. Why can’t you just see him for what he really is?" Guinevere shrugged, unsure. There was a magnetic pull towards Sebastian, one that made her heart race for reasons she couldn’t define. But beneath the glamour and the layers of his composed façade, there were shadows she was starting to feel. A misconception had begun to settle on her heart like mist; she feared she was merely a replacement—the ones that came before had been reflections of something she couldn’t quite grasp, all revolving around Sebastian’s enigmatic charms. Yet on that fateful moonlit night, everything shifted. Guinevere discovered that her striking likeness to another—his past love—was undeniable. That revelation hit her like ice-cold water, clarity sweeping through the fog. "We're all just stand-ins, nothing but shadows of a bigger story," she whispered softly, defiance brewing within. The rush of wind caught her hair, spiraling like autumn leaves caught in a tempestrous dance. "Sebastian Ashford," she called out with newfound resolve, her voice sharper than ever. "You need to hear me—I've stopped loving you." In the days that followed, Sebastian remained unfazed, flicking an offhand laugh, thinking that surely she'd come around in time. Little did he know, it was he who would turn back first. Under the dazzling lights of the gala, he watched her walk into the arms of that dashing newcomer—Lord Sinclair. The sight ignited something deep within him. It was then he felt a landmine buried in emotion explode in his chest, racing him back to her. Arriving just in time, Sebastian rushed across the city to retrieve the jade bracelet he had lovingly repaired, a symbol of his affection. His heart pounded, fueled by the haunting image of Guinevere slipping away. That night, when she entered the Sinclair Residence without looking back, despair gripped him like a vice. A few hours later, he found himself knocking on the door of that same residence, his breath quickened and eyes reddened. The door swung open, revealing a young man with damp hair, hair hastily arranged, and clothes untucked, as if interrupted from a passionate encounter. “She’s asleep—want to take a peek?” the young man asked, stepping aside to reveal the room beyond. There she was, Guinevere Fairchild, radiant even in slumber, her tranquility untainted by the drama unfolding around her. In that moment, Sebastian felt the world tilt on its axis. The realization of what he stood to lose overwhelmed him.
Chapter 2
Mabel Brightleaf couldn't help but remark, "Guinevere, why do you always take everything so seriously? It’s like nothing can distract you once you focus. Don’t you feel hot?" Guinevere Fairchild replied softly, "A calm heart keeps one cool." As she smiled, her eyes sparkled, warm and gentle, making it hard for Mabel to look away. Especially since Guinevere was in her character's outfit—a stunning cheongsam—while they were rehearsing for the show "The Blaze." Guinevere, playing the role of a singer, looked captivating in a delicate shade of pink that accentuated her elegant curves. Her porcelain skin gleamed, presenting her as a seductive beauty, but paired with her lovely features and slightly innocent doe-like eyes, she exuded a sweet charm that was hard to resist. What truly captured attention was Guinevere's grace, a blend of classical beauty and serene elegance, as if she had stepped from a painting. Mabel, filled with admiration, murmured, "Guinevere, you're going to be a star, truly! You look like an ethereal being, I swear there are no actresses in the industry as stunning as you." Guinevere, unused to compliments, simply smiled and returned to her script. Moments later, Guinevere's phone buzzed, interrupting her peacefulness. After just a glance at the screen, her calm demeanor shattered, like a stone thrown into a still pond creating ripples of anxiety. It was a message from Sebastian Ashford: "I'm in Eldergrove." Eldergrove was where their filming crew was currently located—a remote and quiet spot. Typically, Sebastian wouldn’t come to such a place; she was curious about his unexpected arrival. She quickly texted back, "What time do you expect to arrive? Do you need me to pick you up?" After waiting and receiving no response, Guinevere bit her lip, feeling the familiar frustration bubble up. Sebastian often left her hanging—he replied when he felt like it, and when he was in a foul mood, he usually didn’t reply at all. Ignoring her messages had become a routine for him. Trying to immerse herself back into the script, she found herself distracted, glancing repeatedly at her phone, hoping for the screen to light up. Even Mabel noticed, teasing, "Guinevere, I just praised you for being focused, and now you can't concentrate at all? What happened to that calm heart? It's too hot to be unbothered!" Guinevere felt a pang of unease. It wasn't about the heat. It was because her heart was anything but calm. Sebastian had this innate ability to disrupt her every thought with just a single message. As minutes stretched into eternity, Guinevere's phone screen remained dark. She eventually gave up; perhaps Sebastian had no real intention of seeing her. With her scene coming up that night, she needed to redirect her focus. Determined, Guinevere took a deep breath, putting away her tumultuous emotions and diving back into her lines. She lost track of time, the world fading as the script consumed her. Suddenly, a murmur filled the air, drawing her attention. She looked up to find the crew enveloped in a peculiar atmosphere.
Chapter 3
In the Sinclair Residence, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement, the oppressive summer heat no longer dampening spirits. Mabel Brightleaf was gossiping animatedly with another actress when she noticed Guinevere Fairchild looking up from her script. Seizing the moment, Mabel excitedly pulled her into the conversation. “Oh my gosh, Gwen! I couldn’t help but notice you were so into your lines earlier, I almost didn’t want to interrupt! But guess what? A stunning guy just showed up on set. Like, seriously, he’s the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen! Look, he’s still standing over there. The director is totally fawning over him. Do you know who he is? I’ve never heard of him before!” A nearby actress jumped in, “You really don’t know? That’s Sebastian Ashford, the younger son of the Ashford family. Super rich, like 'driving a fleet of luxury cars' rich. He's also known as one of the Northland Four, and I heard he’s been raking in money from a couple of recent investments. Seems like he came by to check in on our director, who’s pals with him.” When Guinevere Fairchild heard “Sebastian Ashford,” her heart raced. She turned to spot his figure amidst the crowd, immediately recognizing him. It really was him. He was here on set. Sebastian Ashford stood tall, casually leaning against a wall, exuding a charmingly rebellious vibe. His tousled hair framed piercing black eyes that sparkled with a playful allure. A smile curled on his lips as he chatted lightly with the director. Surrounded by several people, including the director and producer Vincent Wray, Guinevere could only focus on him. With each heartbeat, a rush of warmth surged through her, making her chest tight. The thought of him stirred up a bittersweet longing within her. Sebastian Ashford was the one she loved, and just his presence could easily awaken those deep emotions. As her best friend would say, if she were a celestial being untouched by worldly concerns, then Sebastian was the one who pulled her back down to earth, making her willingly surrender to the chaos of love. Guinevere instinctively pulled out her phone, checking for messages, but there had been no reply to her last text, nor had he informed her that he’d be on set. From a distance, Sebastian casually glanced in her direction. He locked eyes with Guinevere through the crowd, and she quickly averted her gaze, fearing exposure. She couldn’t forget that their relationship was still a secret. Still caught up in the moment, Mabel seized Guinevere’s hand, her voice brimming with excitement. “Gwen, can you believe how handsome Sebastian Ashford is? He just looked our way and smiled! That smile could melt anyone. He’s totally my type!” Guinevere held her breath for a moment, lowering her gaze and murmuring, “I didn’t really see.” Mabel sighed, “Yeah, he is a bit far, so of course you wouldn’t have gotten a good look. But wait…he’s leaving!” Guinevere did not raise her gaze, intent on focusing on her script and the emotions she needed to convey for her upcoming lines.
Chapter 4
The voices around Guinevere Fairchild gradually faded, and the atmosphere on set returned to its previous state of tranquility. Sebastian Ashford had likely left. After a struggle, Guinevere managed to immerse herself back into the script when suddenly, her phone buzzed with a notification. She unlocked the screen to find a message waiting for her: 【Sebastian: Golden Oak Inn, Room 3456. Don’t keep me waiting.】 The meaning was clear. Guinevere couldn't help but reflect on the authoritative tone it carried. Sebastian had a commanding presence, and in his world, "no" was not a valid answer. She wasn’t sure how he would react if she chose to ignore him. In the play, she held a minor role—third female lead with sparse lines. According to the schedule, her scenes were supposed to be filmed at 4 PM. However, due to the first lead's struggle with her lines, the crew had spent an entire day on just two scenes, and it appeared they were still far behind schedule. She could probably make it to the hotel and back in time. Plus, having been on set for nearly a month without seeing Sebastian left her with a curious yearning to meet him again. With that thought in mind, Guinevere steeled herself and resolved to go to this meeting. “I need to step out for a bit. I’ll be back soon,” she announced, surprising her co-worker Mabel Brightleaf. Mabel's eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait, are you serious? It’s not even our turn yet! What if they can’t find you when it’s time for your scene? You know how temperamental the director gets, especially with the lead struggling like this!” Guinevere hesitated. “It won’t take long.” Without waiting for a reply, Guinevere stood and quickly left, leaving Mabel staring at her with a mix of confusion and concern. What could be so urgent that it prompted the usually obedient Guinevere Fairchild to abandon the crew? --- The Golden Oak Inn was the most lavish hotel nearby, adorned with rich oil paintings and a grand lobby shimmering with ornate chandeliers—everything exuded sophistication. In the industry, The Sinclair Residence was known for its exceptional security measures, making it difficult for paparazzi to infiltrate. As Guinevere rode up in the golden elevator, her reflection caught the glint of the polished surfaces, revealing her delicate features. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, as if touched by a faint dusting of color. It was hard to pinpoint her emotions. She had felt upset by his silence, but now that he wanted to see her, she could hardly dwell on it. Instead, anxiety wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Guinevere had always been the quintessential good student, rarely stepping outside the lines. Directors frowned upon actors leaving the set, but here she was, sneaking out for a rendezvous—a thrill that both excited and scared her.
Chapter 5
It felt like sneaking out of school to go on a first date, only it was far beyond that. Knowing Sebastian Ashford’s nature, Guinevere Fairchild anticipated what kind of enchanting events might unfold in the hotel room. As the thought crossed her mind, the blush on her cheeks deepened. “Ding—” The elevator doors slid open, snapping her back to reality. It was her stop on the 34th floor. Straightening her demeanor as she exited the elevator, Guinevere searched for room 3456, following the numbers until she found it at the end of the hallway. Standing before the door, she took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. The chime had barely sounded twice when the door swung open. Before Guinevere could register what was happening, a firm grip caught her wrist, pulling her inside. The door slammed shut behind her with a loud thud, and she found herself pinned against the wall by Sebastian Ashford, his faint scent of tobacco enveloping her like a warm blanket. Guinevere looked up into his charming, almond-shaped eyes, which sparkled like a tranquil lake in spring. His defined jawline and those uniquely thin, sexy lips were curled into a teasing smile that knocked the wind out of her. “Miss me?” Sebastian drawled, his voice languid and sultry. “Um…” she stammered. “Mmm’s nice, but you saying you miss me is much better,” he teased, leaning in closer so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. His hand glided along Guinevere's elegantly sculpted shoulder blades, kneading gently, carrying a hint of mischief. Unable to resist his charming advances, Guinevere barely whispered, “I miss you.” That admission marked her surrender. Still, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he hadn’t replied to her earlier message. “I texted you a while ago; didn’t you see it?” “I did, but I just forgot to reply,” he shrugged casually before planting a kiss on her earlobe. “What’s wrong? I come to see you, and you’re not happy?” “Happy,” Guinevere echoed shyly, her heart fluttering. She recognized how easy it was to please him, but somehow, when faced with Sebastian, her standards lowered. Sebastian didn't notice her conflicting emotions; his gaze was fixated on her beautiful legs revealed by the high slit in her qipao. He had seen her beauty from afar earlier that day at the studio, and even in traditional attire, there was an undeniable allure about her. Now that he was so close, he remembered overhearing some crew members whispering about her at the filming grounds—someone had mentioned, “Didn’t get a good look.” Didn’t see him? Sebastian smirked, lifting her chin so their eyes locked. Her doe-like gaze was gentle and compliant, filled with nothing but him. “Do you see me clearly now?” Guinevere paused, processing his question before fighting back a smile at his stubbornness. “It’s funny,” she began to say. Sebastian playfully tugged at her soft earlobe. “You find it amusing?” His fingers danced on her skin, a teasing game that made him want more. Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms, ignoring her startled squeal as he carried her toward the bed. When he finally set her down, she settled into his embrace like a cozy little kitten. Once on the bed, Sebastian’s urgency seemed to fade. He leaned back casually, one arm wrapped around Guinevere's waist. His lips brushed against her neck while his other hand busily began to undo the traditional buttons on her qipao. “Saw you in the qipao. A role in a Chinese historical drama with the male lead, right?” “Yes,” she replied, caught off guard. “Come on, give me a line or two from the script,” he challenged with a grin, momentarily pulling back as if he were a director wanting to critique her work.
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