The Billionaire's Regret She Left When He Chose Her

He rubbed his hands, eyes darting around, not daring to look at the mess all over the floor.

"The sale agreement back then did say you couldn't touch the renovations—everything had to stay the same. But this time… Mr. Sanchez personally spoke up and brought the crew."

David Whitney spread his hands helplessly. "With Mr. Sanchez's clout, who in Linford would dare refuse him?"

I froze. Before I could even process that, a familiar shrill laugh came from behind me.

"Oh my, these floor tiles are way too tacky. The color is so dull—it won't look high-end on camera at all. Smash it all and replace it with mahogany. That's classy."

I whipped around.

In the temporary set built in the middle of the living room, Vanessa was wearing a gaudy cheongsam slit all the way up her thigh, a feather fan in her hand.

Ethan sat in the director's chair beside her, head lowered as he watched the monitor. Hearing her, he nodded indulgently.

"Whatever you say. Change it however you want."

Seeing me appear, he froze, his expression clearly uneasy.

"Alex? Why are you here?"

I stared at the floor, smashed beyond recognition, my voice trembling.

"What are you doing? This is my—this is my former home! What right do you have to destroy it?"

Vanessa poked her head out from behind him, smugly raising her eyebrows at me.

"Alex, don't be so stingy. Ethan said this drama is tailor-made for me as the female lead."

She shook that gaudy fan, twisting her waist in an affected pose.

"And the script is about your grandma's story. I'm playing her when she was young. Shooting on location is for authenticity—you should feel honored."

I looked at the scene in disbelief.

My grandma came from a prominent family. She was one of the few in that generation who earned a doctorate overseas, and a famous physicist. All her life she was upright and proper—year-round in a plain white lab coat, moving through laboratories, dedicating her entire life to the country's scientific research.

But the woman in front of me had heavy makeup on, striking flirtatious poses, her eyes full of seductive invitation.

This wasn't a respected scientist. This was a socialite from the old days.

"Shut up! My grandma was a scientist, not someone a nobody actress who climbs up by relying on men could ever play!"

New grudges and old hatred surged up together. I couldn't take this humiliation anymore. I rushed forward, raised my hand—

But my wrist was seized viciously in midair.

Ethan flung me away, frowning as he blocked Vanessa, his eyes full of impatience.

"What the hell are you freaking out about? Vanessa is pregnant—what were you trying to do?"

I pointed at her ridiculous outfit, my eyes rimmed red.

"She's insulting my grandma! You know exactly what kind of person Grandma was! How can you allow this?"

He straightened his cuff, his tone so cold it was like he was discussing something that had nothing to do with him.

"Art comes from life but rises above life. What filming doesn't involve adaptation?"

He swept a glance at the set and let out a snort.

"Stories like your grandma's—cooped up in a lab all day—boring, dull, outdated. Who would want to watch that? What audiences want now is talented men and beautiful women, love and hate, tangled grudges. What's wrong with adding a little romance for Vanessa?"

I looked at the man in front of me and suddenly felt he was unbelievably unfamiliar.

Ethan seemed like he didn't want to get tangled up in this. He turned to David Whitney.