LIGURIA DISTRICT,CLARE IN IRELAND. HATHAWAY PRODUCTION SET...10 AM.
The Hathaway set pulsed with its usual glamorous chaos.
Makeup brushes danced like sparrows over skin, script pages snapped and fluttered in nervous hands, and assistants weaved through the crowd with steaming coffees like soldiers dodging invisible bullets. The energy was electric...exhausted but glittering, a rhythm everyone had learned to match like second nature.
But today, that rhythm faltered.
Not because of any delay, not because of any scandal… but because of something...or rather someone...not listed on the call sheet. A new presence had breached the fold. One not born of camera flashes or PR spin.
A chill moved across the lot...it didn't scream...it whispered.
And everyone, even the seasoned and the jaded, paused for just half a breath.
Iren Jeshen.
Not a household name...not yet. But infamous in circles that mattered. The kind of actor who arrived five years late to the game and still managed to make Hollywood turn its head. People didn't quite know what to make of him. Not because of a lack of talent.
No.
It was something else, something harder to name.
He was tall...naturally...and carried himself with that predator's elegance no stagecoach could teach. His obsidian suit clung to him like it had been sewn with a secret. Clean. Precise. Sinful. His hair slicked back in perfect, careless defiance, skin like carved stone. And his eyes?
Black. Cold. Watching.
Tyra sat in her usual chair, a flowing cream wrap-dress draped around her like it had been poured from heaven. Bione, perched beside her with a smoothie and a thousand opinions, leaned in sharply.
"Who's that?" she whispered, eyes trailing the magnetic stranger now stealing oxygen as he strolled across the lot.
Tyra blinked..once...then again...then pretended not to look.
"Probably a model," she said, voice low. "Or Lucifer on his day off."
Bione laughed until Tyra turned her head slightly toward the mirror...and saw his face again.
Her spine straightened,breath caught.
She whispered like someone invoking a curse.
"That's Iren. Fucking. Jeshen."
Bione's mouth fell open. "The new lead?"
Tyra nodded.
"They dropped the announcement this morning," Bione confirmed, nearly breathless. "He's replacing Derek. After that… thing in Croatia."
Tyra froze mid-eyeliner stroke. "What thing in Croatia?"
Bione shrugged, eyes wide. "Exactly. No one knows. Derek just… vanished."
Tyra's stomach twisted. Derek had been a damn good partner. Reliable. Professional. Kind.
But now, with Rebekah back on set...and with her claws sharpened...he was gone.
Yet even her suspicion couldn't overpower the thrill. Because while Derek had been comfortable…
Iren was a wildfire.
She grinned, lip curling in anticipation. Her reflection stared back at her with a wicked glint.
And then…he passed.
Not just near them...through them. His scent lingered in the air;dark, cold, expensive. Like secrets dipped in silver. He didn't look at her, not directly...but...she felt it.
That ancient, chilling recognition.
Like he could read the parts of her she hadn't even auditioned.
What the fuck is going on? she screamed silently.
From across the lot, lounging in the director's chair like it owed her rent, Rebekah watched it all unfold.
Her lips curved lazily as her manicured fingers tapped the armrest. Daize stood at her side like a hand grenade with the pin half-pulled. Hailey stood a few feet off, already arranging the next scene.
"He's ice..." Daize murmured.
"He's mine." Rebekah replied, baring her signature venom-sweet smile.
She didn't look away. "Tell Hailey to get his schedule. I want to know where he breathes."
---
TABLE READ... 12:00 P.M.
The first read with Iren wasn't just electric. It was a storm trapped in glass.
Tyra sat two seats away from Ryan. The air between them usually buzzed with their banter, their strange flirtation, their awkward post-party past.
But today...
Ryan was quiet. Unusually so.
He looked… unsettled.
No jokes,no charming smirks,just eyes on Iren...calculating.
And Iren?
He read the script like it had been forged for his voice. Each line smooth, exact, and devastating. He didn't perform. He delivered. Like a sentence. Like a warning.
Tyra tried not to look at him.
She failed.
Ryan noticed.
He leaned over as the room shifted for a quick break. His voice low and bitter.
"New guy's got you hypnotized already?"
Tyra rolled her eyes at the ceiling but smirked at him. "Jealous?"
"Of a marble statue? Not quite. But thanks for checking."
Before she could clap back, Iren turned slowly toward them.
"You're both very loud in your silence," he said, voice lined with velvet...and a blade hidden underneath.
Tyra blinked...and Ryan? He straightened.
"Excuse me?" Ryan asked, brow raised.
Iren offered a faint smile. "Nothing. Just observing."
Tyra blinked again,her throat suddenly felt dry.
Why does she suddenly feel like prey?
---
HALLWAY...3:15 P.M.
Tyra was alone...or so she thought.
The hallway outside the editing suite was dim, quiet. She leaned against the wall, trying to recalibrate her thoughts, when a voice slipped out of the shadows like a slow ripple.
"You're not used to being watched, are you?"
She turned,sharply,very sharply.
Iren stood there, calm, unreadable.
"You scared me." she breathed.
"I tend to do that."
"You're… different." she whispered.
"Is that a compliment or a diagnosis?"
She laughed nervously. "Both?...maybe."
Why was she nervous? Why the hell was she nervous? If she was going to act opposite these two men, how was she supposed to survive the entire set?
He stepped closer...not threatening...but inevitable.
"You're better when you don't hide," he said softly, brushing past her like a breeze carrying thunder.
She was left rattled..and seen.
What the hell did that even mean?
---
PARKING LOT...TWILIGHT
The sun dipped behind the hills, casting gold over the blacked-out SUV waiting for the cast. Ryan leaned against it, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at nothing.
Rebekah appeared, hips swaying, perfume sharp and sweet.
"You like her." she said flatly.
Ryan chuckled without humor. "You always assume too much."
"And you always deflect too poorly."
She moved closer, brushing his cheek with her lips, feigning affection like a ritual.
"Why would you suddenly be interested in an actress?" she asked. "Celebrity relationships don't last. You know that."
He turned, his expression dark. "Who said I want anything to do with any of you?"
"Gross." he added, pushing away from the car.
But she wasn't finished,she probably just started.
"That night..." Rebekah started calmly, "...was my plan."
Ryan froze.
"I wanted it to be you, I planned it that way. The drugs. The setup. Everything. But she took the fall instead." Her lips twisted. "Poor little thing. No wonder she flinches around you."
His face turned cold,so fucking cold, like a frozen stone.
"You're disgusting," he hissed, stepping closer. "You have no idea how close you are to jail."
Rebekah only laughed, amused. "And what will she think when she finds out you weren't drugged?"
Silence. A dangerous one.
"Will she still flutter when you walk by?" she added. "Or will she finally run?"
Ryan's fists clenched. "Stay out of my way. And stop the flirtatious bullshit. It's not going to work."
He stalked past her, fury written in every line of his body.
She remained rooted to the spot.
Her eyes glinted with hate. Her teeth gnashed in barely contained rage.
She hates Tyra.
She fucking hates that bitch.
---
And from a shadowed corner, Iren watched it all.
Still.
Silent.
And for the first time since his arrival…
He smiled.
He suddenly felt entertained.