Behind the Curtain of Stardom

Chapter 1

**Title: After Taking My Brother’s Place, I Became a Heartthrob**
The chill of winter had finally melted away, ushering in a new season of renewal. Although it was already April, a lingering briskness hung in the air, giving Briarwood—a city known for its picturesque springtime—an added layer of sophistication and gravitas.
At the riverfront in the city, a posh private estate stood majestically, its blue and white building surrounded by a fleet of high-end business cars.
“Mr. Brightwood, my heart aches for Lysander, watching him grow up. His current illness troubles me deeply. However, the black-and-white contract remains unchanged, and I hope you understand my predicament,” said Lord Zachary, the chairman of the renowned Golden Crest Entertainment.
He had come to discuss matters regarding Lysander with Sir Arthur Brightwood, the patriarch of the Brightwood family.
Lysander Brightwood was the shining star of Golden Crest Entertainment, a titan in the industry with unmatched charisma and box office successes. He was also a small shareholder in Golden Crest. As part of a high-stakes betting agreement with five other companies, Lysander was required to produce twenty film projects within three years to ensure Golden Crest’s profits reached one billion dollars, or the company would face bankruptcy.
Three-quarters of the wagered billion had already been fulfilled; however, just the day before, Sir Arthur had received distressing news. Lysander’s condition had worsened, and without a suitable heart donor, he was being sent abroad for treatment.
“I will do my utmost to compensate you, but the Brightwood company has recently encountered a cash flow crisis. Please give me a few days,” Sir Arthur implored, his weary face betraying signs of aging that seemed to have accelerated this past week. He adjusted his sharply tailored suit, signaling to the staff to offer tea to the guests.
Lord Zachary nodded, his sharp gaze sweeping across the opulent Brightwood living room. Clearly, this family had not gained its wealth overnight; it was built on generations. A mere vase in this room could have sold for a small fortune.
Yet, he had come to hear about the challenges the Brightwoods faced.
“Mr. Brightwood, the film contracts for Lysander are signed and scheduled to commence next month. Even if you had the funds to cover the losses from the betting agreement, the cancellation fees for these looming productions are not insubstantial,” Zachary articulated, noting the strain in Sir Arthur's eyes, which held a hint of desperation as his hair turned ever so slightly gray.
“I know, but Lysander’s health is unstable. There’s no way he can fulfill the contract,” came Sir Arthur’s defeated reply.
Lord Zachary signed and threw a glance at Lady Clarissa, Lysander's agent, who sat nearby, her expression anxious as beads of sweat formed on her palm around her phone.
She was acutely aware that Lysander could not meet the contract requirements. The media mogul had rushed to the Brightwood estate believing they were facing insurmountable odds, but just hours before boarding the private flight for Lysander’s medical care, she had noticed something shocking—a boy who looked exactly like Lysander.
Having been with Lysander for six years, Lady Clarissa knew he had a younger brother but had never realized they were twins.
“Mr. Brightwood, I believe I have a solution that could save us both from heavy penalties.” Lady Clarissa focused intently on Sir Arthur: “Lysander’s brother can step in for him and fulfill the terms of the agreement.”
“Are you serious?” Sir Arthur replied, both intrigued and skeptical about the idea.
“Yes,” she stated firmly. “Fiona, his younger brother, can pretend to be Lysander for the duration of the contract. If he can channel Lysander’s charisma and appeal, he might just complete this challenge successfully.”
Intrigued, Sir Arthur leaned back in his chair, contemplating the unorthodox proposal. He had no other options left; it was now or never.

Chapter 2

“Clink!” The lid of the teacup touched the rim, creating a clear, crisp sound.
Sir Arthur paused, his grasp on the teacup faltering.
This idea was not only bold but also somewhat absurd.
The parlor suddenly fell into an eerie silence as the employees from Golden Crest Entertainment held their breath, exchanging glances filled with unspoken words.
Unbeknownst to them, up on the second floor, a pair of amber eyes was quietly observing them.
The sunset's golden light streamed through the checkered window, casting an orange glow that illuminated the young man's delicate ankles.
He sat barefoot on the stairs with his knees drawn slightly to his chest, beside him lay a carefully stacked collection of colorful origami cranes.
These were 999 prayer cranes he folded for his brother. Each crane held his hopes and prayers, and he believed with all his heart that his brother would be safe and healthy.
“Isn't 999 a bit few?”
As the conversation below came to an abrupt halt, his focus shifted back to the cranes, anxiously contemplating whether his sincere intentions would sway the divine.
The delicate oil paintings and brass sconces on the walls shimmered in the fading sunlight, making his skin appear even paler. His lips, a soft pink, moved quietly as he held back tears that glinted on his long, thick eyelashes.
Thinking of his brother always caused him pain.
Finally, breaking the long silence in the parlor came Sir Arthur's weary voice. Fiona rested her chin on the railing of the spiral staircase, tilting her head slightly as she continued to eavesdrop.
“Younger Brother indeed has a sibling who looks almost identical to him, but his brother has health issues and has been sheltered at home, rarely interacting with others. I worry he won’t be up to the task,” Lord Zachary replied anxiously.
“We can train him! Everyone will help. He only needs to hold on for a year until Lysander returns from overseas,” chimed in another voice.
“This is the only way to save Golden Crest. If we can’t fulfill the gambling agreement, the company will go under. Mr. Brightwood, please help us and talk to Young Master Felix!” the people around urged fervently.
At that moment, Sir Arthur's assistant calculated the compensation they'd have to pay and shook his head slowly, letting out a sigh. Sir Arthur understood that sigh's weight well; his visibly aged face revealed the toll of exhaustion.
After a long pause, he finally said, “Give us a few days to think it over.”
After the Golden Crest representatives were sent off, Sir Arthur’s assistant cautiously approached him.
“Lord Edmund,” he began, concern etched on his brow.
Sir Arthur looked up and rubbed his temples, “What’s on your mind?”
“Their suggestion just sparked an idea. If we let Young Henry pretend to be Lysander as he enters the entertainment industry, couldn’t we also sort things out with Langley? We should align with Sebastian to navigate this crisis quickly.”
Sir Arthur frowned, “It’s one thing to gamble with careers, but you can’t just toy with marriage.”
“Have you forgotten?” the assistant lowered his voice. “Big Brother holds disdain for Sebastian and is resistant to this union. Besides, Sebastian has no feelings for him either. Didn’t he initially propose a private one-year marriage contract? Then, once Granny Agatha passes all rights to him, they can just divorce.”
The assistant suggested this because Grandma Agatha from the Langley family was a huge fan of Lysander, which allowed them to connect with such a prestigious family.
“But—” Sir Arthur was still apprehensive about letting Fiona take Lysander's place. “We know how Lysander operates; these situations are simple for him. But you know Fiona’s temperament. Sending her to Sebastian—she would be bullied mercilessly.”
“Lord Edmund, if you allow Young Felix to step in for Big Brother, it’s like keeping the star Lysander alive. If we have second thoughts about the marriage, how do we explain that to Grandma Agatha? These are two tangled issues; to resolve one is unlikely without repercussions on the other.”
Sir Arthur understood the logic behind the assistant's words.
The parlor was silent for a full half hour.
At last, Sir Arthur rose slowly, his weary form ready to seek out Fiona. However, as he approached the spiral staircase, he suddenly paused.
On the steps sat Fiona, her small frame propped up on her hand as she pondered. She was slight, with a slender neck, and a history of illness made her appearance slightly frailer compared to Lysander, standing merely an inch shorter. But if you weren’t looking closely, it was nearly impossible to tell them apart.
“Fiona, why are you sitting here?” Sir Arthur frowned slightly, his eyes filled with concern. “You’re barefoot! These steps are too cold.”
Fiona looked up, stray wisps of hair falling into her eyes.
She stood, cradling the origami cranes, her glass-like, beautiful eyes serious, “Dad, I know my brother will be fine. I’ve made my wish, and he will find a way soon.”
“Yes, your brother will be okay,” Sir Arthur assured as he stepped onto the staircase, intending to take her back to their room. But Fiona stared back, as if making a decision, and suddenly said, “Dad, let me take on my brother’s task. I can do it.”
“You— you heard that?”
Sir Arthur's gaze sharpened, a mixture of emotions swelling inside him.
He felt a deep sense of guilt for this little girl. Since the age of five, the frail Fiona had been taken abroad by her knowledgeable grandparents for treatment. She had only returned home two weeks prior.
“The entertainment industry is complex, riddled with backstabbing and hidden rivalries. Besides, your brother has a marriage agreement with Langley.”
Fiona’s delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly as she contemplated, “If my brother doesn’t have feelings for his betrothed and it’s a contractual marriage, then I can replace him. As for becoming a star, I can attempt that too. Once my brother is back safe, we can switch roles again.”
Fiona’s decisive response took Sir Arthur by surprise, leaving him more astounded than anything.
Fiona had always been timid. Even her education had been in exclusive private schools, where her condition only allowed her to attend half the day. In conversation, she had always been shy like a little kitten, and it wasn’t until adulthood that her personality had truly begun to blossom.
Sir Arthur's voice quivered with emotion, “Fiona, are you sure about this?”

Chapter 3

“Absolutely.” While Fiona Brightwood wasn't quite sure what had happened in her family recently, she understood that they were in financial trouble and only the Langley family could help them. “You and my brother have worked so hard for this family; I’m just lending a bit of a hand.”
Sir Arthur Brightwood hugged her tightly, tears glimmering in his eyes. “Good girl.”
The next day, upon receiving the news, Lady Clarissa hurriedly drove over to Brightwood Manor to find Fiona.
As she stepped into Fiona's bedroom, her heart raced as she looked at Fiona.
Fiona was barefoot on the carpet, engrossed in a book, wearing a simple white dress that was spotlessly clean. The afternoon sun illuminated her neatly pedicured toes, revealing a hint of pink polish.
In that moment, Lady Clarissa felt something magical.
Though the two looked almost identical, their auras were worlds apart.
If Lysander Brightwood was a captivating red rose, Fiona Brightwood was undoubtedly a pure white rose.
“Hi there.”
Fiona greeted first and introduced herself earnestly, “I’m Fiona Brightwood, younger than my brother by ten minutes, standing at 5'10" and weighing 121 pounds.”
The seriousness of her introduction left Lady Clarissa feeling a bit awkward. Sitting down on the carpet beside Fiona, she said, “I’m your brother’s agent. You can just call me Clarissa.”
At that moment, a servant brought over two cups of Earl Grey tea and placed them on a glass table on the carpet.
Fiona handed a cup to Lady Clarissa and started showcasing her awards and diplomas from over the years, “Here’s my first place certificate from the math competition, this is my gold medal from dance class, and here’s my first place award in Go. Oh, and this one is for second place in the eating contest…”
With each story she flipped through regarding her achievements, she did so with enthusiasm. Whenever she spoke of something that made her happy, her lips curled into a smile, revealing two shallow dimples.
Lady Clarissa watched that familiar face, becoming increasingly intrigued. She began to understand Sir Arthur Brightwood's concerns; Fiona and Lysander were complete opposites in personality. How would she manage in the treacherous entertainment industry?
“From now on, can I call you Little Fiona?” Lady Clarissa held her hot cup, studying Fiona closely, as if searching for differences from Lysander. With a smirk, she added, “Now that I’ve done my background check, let’s talk about your brother.”
“Sure, I’m all ears.”
Fiona sat up straight, looking directly at Lady Clarissa. “I forgot to share some good news! My brother’s condition has improved, and he won’t be in danger until before his kidney donation.”
“Thank goodness.” Lady Clarissa folded her hands together in relief, “No wonder you’re so happy.”
“Your brother has an event tomorrow night, so I wanted to share some important information with you first.”
“Okay, let me grab a pen.” Fiona ran barefoot to her desk and returned quickly, placing her notebook on her lap and looking up intently at Lady Clarissa.
Clearing her throat, Lady Clarissa felt as if she were about to teach a class.
“Two important points. First, your brother has quite a knack for romance, which means he has a lot of exes, and most of them have become friends.”
After jotting that down, Fiona asked seriously, “How many exes are we talking about?”
“Like four or five dozen.”
“‘Four or five dozen’. So, are they all actors?” Fiona continued.
“Not all. There are some celebrities, directors, screenwriters, wealthy heirs, artists, and pianists…”
Fiona’s sentence faltered when she thought about her brother’s charming reputation, causing Lady Clarissa to assume she disapproved of Lysander's flirty ways.
“He's incredibly charming,” Fiona finally said with admiration. “People from all walks of life are drawn to him.”
Lady Clarissa chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, there are tons trying to win him over, but he handles it smoothly. He gets along well with his rivals.”
“Are there really that many people trying to win him over?” Fiona’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“Absolutely. If you lined them up, they'd reach France,” Lady Clarissa boasted a little. After all, her star was notoriously a heartthrob in the entertainment industry.
“Line up to France?” Fiona calculated the distance, “That must be around 17,000 miles! How many people is that?”
Caught off guard, Lady Clarissa almost choked on her tea, “That’s just a figure of speech.”
Fiona sighed in relief, “So, should I be cordial if I run into them? Be a bit more enthusiastic?”
Lady Clarissa’s tone became complex, “It depends on the situation, but the main thing is you need to have your brother's charming demeanor. You want to give off that enchanting smile but never make the first move.”
Fiona frowned, as if trying to wrap her head around the second point. “What’s the second important thing?”
At the mention of the second point, Lady Clarissa sighed heavily, “The second point is that, in the entertainment industry, your brother has a lot of rivals. Almost all the popular first and second-tier stars don’t have the best relationship with him.”
“Why? Is it because they’re jealous of his looks?”
Looking at Fiona’s face, which was an exact replica of Lysander’s, Lady Clarissa felt a throb of discomfort. If it weren't for Fiona's serious expression, she might have thought she was fishing for compliments.
“Lysander is straightforward, a pampered rich kid, and can be a bit spoiled. He’s not one to back down or speak sweetly, which can be detrimental in the industry; he’s made too many enemies.”
That had always been Lysander’s Achilles' heel. If he were just a little more diplomatic, he wouldn’t have a flood of haters, and his career would flourish even more.
As the two talked, the night wore on.
After seeing Lady Clarissa off, Fiona lay in bed, repeatedly reminding herself of her brother's persona in the entertainment world.
“Charming.”
“Temper… a bit direct.”
In truth, to use Lady Clarissa’s words, Lysander was somewhat spoiled. But in Fiona's mind, Lysander had always been gentle and affectionate towards her, never the type to be regarded as spoiled.
To her, her brother was the best in the world.
Lying awake, Fiona flipped over in bed, reaching out to switch on the nightlight, her slender wrist slowly becoming visible in her oversized cotton pajamas.

Chapter 4

Fiona Brightwood found it hard to sleep, so he decided to look up information about Lysander Brightwood online until midnight. He recognized a few headlines and saw some pictures of Lysander’s ex-boyfriends.
The next morning, Lady Clarissa arrived promptly to pick him up.
Before boarding the SUV, Sir Arthur Brightwood fussed over Fiona, genuinely worried that he wouldn’t handle a day full of engagements and wouldn’t get enough to eat.
Lady Clarissa repeatedly reassured Sir Arthur before they could finally leave on time.
As they settled into the spacious SUV, Fiona felt a wave of contentment wash over him as he gazed out the window at the scenery.
The hospital had sent word that Lysander's condition was stable, which eased Fiona's worries just a bit.
He had only been back in the country for less than two weeks and had been shuttling between Brightwood Manor and the hospital, hardly having had time to explore Briarwood.
Today, alongside Lady Clarissa, his studio assistants had come along for the ride. Lady Clarissa had kept the details about him representing Lysander in the entertainment industry under wraps, making it a closely guarded secret at Golden Crest.
Lysander's personal assistant, known as Little Summer, sat in the front seat, handing over a cold brew coffee and a sandwich carefully to Fiona. “Breakfast from your favorite spot, Lysander.”
Fiona was lost in thought, admiring the spring scenery, and it took him a moment to process what Little Summer had called him.
Lady Clarissa cleared her throat, “Little Lysander.”
Fiona snapped back to reality, staring at everyone for a couple of seconds before he accepted the food, smiling sweetly. “Thank you.”
Not only was Little Summer taken aback, but the others in the car exchanged curious glances at Fiona’s unusually good mood.
Today’s little prince seemed different in some way.
Despite having breakfast at home, the tantalizing smell of the sandwich was unlike anything he was used to. For years, his meals had been bland and strictly portioned, leaving little room for culinary excitement.
The cold brew’s cup fogged up with condensation.
Fiona touched it hesitantly, raising his delicate eyebrows in uncertainty. “It’s cold.”
Little Summer immediately grew anxious, softly responding, “Of course it’s cold. If you’d prefer hot coffee, I can get that for you right away.”
“No need, I can drink this,” Fiona said, recalling how his Granny Beatrice had always forbidden him from consuming cold items as a child. Getting caught sneaking some would typically earn him a lecture. But with Granny Beatrice not around today, he felt bold enough to try it.
The cold, slightly bitter brew sent a delightful chill down his throat, and Fiona chuckled at the experience. “Thank you for the breakfast.”
The others in the vehicle were left wide-eyed.
This version of Lysander Brightwood was certainly a surprise.
Seeing through the confusion, Lady Clarissa casually mentioned, “Lysander has not been feeling well lately. The doctor has advised him to keep his cool, so let’s all be considerate.”
Everyone knew about Lysander’s heart condition. Little Summer and the others nodded in agreement, “Got it.”
When they arrived at the styling studio, Fiona, not entirely familiar with the process, sat patiently, cooperating surprisingly well. The stylists were on edge; usually, they faced resistance from their clients, but today, the young prince was uncharacteristically compliant.
During a break, Lady Clarissa observed Fiona's every move, sighing softly. “You’re too easygoing; you’re very different from Lysander, and people will notice.”
Fiona sat upright, determined. “I’ll try to improve.”
Noticing the anxious look on Fiona's kitten-like face, Lady Clarissa gently patted his head. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t complain. It’s you who saved us; let’s take it slow.”
Feeling a twinge of melancholy, Fiona nodded lightly.
Soon enough, the SUV arrived at the back entrance of The VOU Alliance Charity Gala. As they entered, they nearly collided with another group of artists.
At the forefront was a tall man in a well-tailored black tuxedo, standing at about six feet three with a gentle demeanor and strikingly beautiful, almond-shaped eyes.
Lady Clarissa leaned in to whisper to Fiona, “This is your brother’s ex-boyfriend.”
Fiona recognized him—Evelyn St. Claire. He had just won Best Actor at the international film festival the week before and was in the news just yesterday.
In the empty parking lot, the two groups stood out. Evelyn’s manager cast a wary glance toward Lady Clarissa, showing clear discomfort. She instinctively wanted to usher Evelyn inside, but he had already spotted Fiona.
“Little Lysander,” he called.
Fiona tensed, curling his fingers nervously.
“Lysander, why haven’t you replied to my texts?” Evelyn asked, striding toward him.
It instantly created an awkward atmosphere, especially for Evelyn's manager, whose eyes darted around nervously, worried that reporters would capture the moment and turn it into tomorrow's headlines: "Golden Boy Evelyn Reunites with Ex."
“What a scoop that would be,” the manager thought.
“Just a friendly greeting; you two are on good terms,” Lady Clarissa whispered, trying to ease the tension.
Keeping his composure, Fiona looked up and smiled gently. “I’ve switched to a new number; my old one had some issues.”
Evelyn seemed to buy the excuse and naturally fell into step beside him.
“Lysander, you’ve lost so much weight.”
Fiona instinctively lowered his gaze. “I’ve been ill lately.”
“Ill?” Evelyn stepped closer, nearly blocking Fiona from sight with his towering frame. “What’s wrong?”
Fiona had rarely interacted with unfamiliar men, let alone have someone this close. He fought to remain steady under Evelyn's gaze. “My heart hasn’t been feeling right, but it’s nothing serious.”
Just then, the elevator dinged.
Both teams prepared to board.
Evelyn's manager, ever watchful, scanned their surroundings, fearful of nosy photographers lurking about.
As the elevator doors opened slowly, Evelyn held them back slightly, signaling for Fiona to go ahead.
As Fiona stepped inside, he glanced back at Evelyn and said, “Thank you.”
Inside the elevator stood five people. Fiona didn’t pay much attention, positioning himself in front of a gentleman and facing him directly.

Chapter 5

In the quiet elevator, the low tone resonated clearly.
Fiona Brightwood thought, Evelyn St. Claire must have a good relationship with her brother; that tone of care only exists among family.
She lifted her head, feeling less anxious, and replied to Evelyn St. Claire, "I've been trying to lose some weight."
As soon as she said it, she chuckled at herself.
"You're this thin, and you want to lose weight?" Although Evelyn St. Claire’s words held a playful reproach, it was evident that their relationship was very close.
Fiona Brightwood flashed a smile at him before turning her gaze towards the man standing in front of her.
His hands were striking—cold white skin, long and proportional fingers, strong joints—a perfect pair of hands she had ever seen.
As she looked down, she noticed his shoes seemed to be from a luxury Italian brand, beautifully crafted, making her think of the few pairs she owned.
"Lysander, add my new WeChat ID, would you?"
That statement confirmed their closeness again.
Fiona Brightwood exclaimed "Oh" as she slowly pulled out her phone to open WeChat. "Was there something important you needed to tell me the other day?"
Evelyn St. Claire responded, "Not really, that day I won Best Actor, and I wanted to share it with you first."
In Fiona's mind, such joyous news typically warranted a hearty congratulations among friends. Therefore, she smiled brightly and clapped her hands together. "Congrats on the award!"
Evelyn St. Claire smiled warmly back, "Thank you."
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open across from them.
Fiona Brightwood prepared to step out, politely addressing the unfamiliar man before her, "Excuse me, sir, could you please step aside just a bit? We need to get off."
All this time, she hadn't caught a glimpse of the man's face, but she assumed that with such beautiful hands, he couldn’t be too hard on the eyes.
The man remained silent, unmoving.
The imposing black coat he wore radiated a certain pressure.
His resistance to cooperate was becoming blatant.
Fiona Brightwood, not wanting to offend, reluctantly squeezed through the narrow gap.
As she raised her head, her gaze traveled along his torso to his shoulders.
He had a great physique—almost perfectly proportioned, slightly taller than Evelyn St. Claire.
Finally managing to slip past, she breathed a sigh of relief. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, she turned back to look for Lady Clarissa, and serendipitously caught a glimpse of the man's eyes.
His features were striking yet cool, his sharp phoenix eyes slanted slightly, both languid and rebellious.
As the elevator continued to ascend, this time towards the VIP lounge of the charity gala, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. The small group surrounding the man exchanged glances, the tension thickening.
In that moment, Alexander Storm tentatively asked the man, "Sebastian, aren’t you and Lysander Brightwood engaged? Why didn’t you even greet him?"
He didn’t finish his sentence, aware of the dark cloud forming on Sebastian's face.
Although Sebastian had a nominal engagement with the Brightwood heir, their relationship was anything but amicable, a fact well-known among their friends.
Concerning appearances, they had to find a way to coexist.
After a long silence, Sebastian sneered, "Why should I greet him? What’s the point of that when he’s busy with his sweetheart?"
In the lavish VIP lounge, Sebastian and his party settled into their seats. They were friends of the gala's behind-the-scenes hosts who had come to check out the scene.
Sitting confidently in the center on a black leather sofa, Sebastian casually sipped champagne with his long legs crossed, the low pressure of his presence casting a shadow over the entire room, stifling chatter and laughter.
Finally, Marcus Wren, sitting to Sebastian's left, broke the silence. "What’s the deal with you and Lysander Brightwood? Are you really getting married?"
Marcus Wren, the younger heir of the Shaw Realty Empire, had grown up with Sebastian, their friendship steady through the years.
"Don’t even mention him," Sebastian said, casually popping a cherry into his mouth. "Bad luck."
Marcus Wren spoke candidly. "If you dislike him so much, why put yourself through the hassle of marrying him? Your grandma is your real grandmother; she wouldn’t favor her grandson over her adopted grandson, right?"
Sebastian's family dynamics were known in high society circles. The complications surrounding their vast wealth were stark, with Grandma Agatha Langley at the helm. Although Sebastian's family held significant control over Langley Enterprises, the pivotal port trade was set to favor the youngest grandson, Isabella Langley.
Had Isabella demonstrated any potential to advance the dynasty, it would have been one thing, but her misdeeds behind the scenes were numerous; she was a master in manipulation, winning Grandma Agatha's affection while receiving preferential treatment.
The crucial point was that Isabella was adopted and had no blood relation to the Langley family.
"My grandma dotes on Isabella like she’s her own flesh and blood. It’s more than just favoritism—sometimes it feels like she might hand over the entire family to her," Sebastian said coldly, his mood darkening with the thought, slamming his champagne glass onto the glass table.
Besides doting on Isabella, Grandma Agatha cherished Lysander Brightwood as her "white moonlight"—a term with deep sentimental value, indicating how much he meant to her. For six years, she had been his die-hard fan.
Initially, when Grandma Agatha proposed a union with the Brightwoods, Sebastian had firmly rejected it, leaving no room for negotiation. But as Isabella continued to gain favor and Sebastian's situation grew precarious, he found himself wavering.
Although the Brightwoods weren't complete strangers—Lysander's grandmother was a close friend of Grandma Agatha—Sebastian's memories of attending birthday parties at the Brightwood estate as a child plagued him. He recalled how his feisty nature led him into awkward situations, almost drowning in one of their fountains until Lysander’s quick thinking brought a family steward to his rescue.
So, to some degree, he owed Lysander a debt of gratitude.
Otherwise, given his fierce temperament, he would have confronted Lysander long ago, especially for being entangled with someone else when he was already aware of their arrangement.

There are limited chapters to put here, click the button below to continue reading "Behind the Curtain of Stardom"

(It will automatically jump to the book when you open the app).

❤️Click to read more exciting content❤️